e in the town?

Sannaes. I--I--I--

Valborg. And what about me? Don't you think I deserve a little
consideration? You will be turned out of the house before long, if you
do not take care--! Now be quick and get away before the others come in.
(SANNAES turns away, holding his hands in front of him, and goes out by
the verandah to the right. At the same moment TJAELDE is seen coming at
the other end of the verandah, followed by HAMAR and SIGNE.)

Tjaelde. Yes, it is a fine horse.

Hamar. Fine? I don't believe there is its equal in the country.

Tjaelde. I dare say. Did you notice that he hadn't turned a hair?

Hamar. What glorious lungs! And such a beauty, too--his head, his legs,
his neck--! I never saw such a beauty!

Tjaelde. Yes, he is a handsome beast. (Looks out of the verandah at the
yacht.) Have you been out for a sail?

Hamar. I was sailing among the islands last night, and came back this
morning with the fishing-boats--a delightful sail!

Tjaelde. I wish I had time to do that.

Hamar. But surely it is only imagination on your part, to think that you
never have time?

Tjaelde. Oh, well, perhaps I have time but not inclination.

Signe. And how do things stand where you have been?

Tjaelde. Badly.

Valborg (coming forward). Welcome home, father!

Tjaelde. Thank you, dear!

Hamar. Is it not possible to save anything?

Tjaelde. Not at present; that is why I took the horse.

Hamar. Then the bay horse is the only thing you get out of the smash?

Tjaelde. Do you know that I might say that horse has cost me three or
four thousand pounds?

Hamar. Well, that is its only defect, anyway! Still, if the worst comes
to the worst, and you can afford it--the horse is priceless! (TJAELDE
turns away, puts down his hat and coat and takes off his gloves.)

Signe. It is beautiful to see your enthusiasm when you talk about
horses. I rather think it is the only enthusiasm you have.

Hamar. Yes, if I were not a cavalry officer I should like to be a horse!

Signe. Thank you! And what should I be?

Valborg. "Oh, were I but the saddle on thy back! Oh, were I but the whip
about thy loins!"

Hamar. "Oh, were I but the flowers in thy--." No, "hand" doesn't rhyme!

Tjaelde. (coming forward, meets MRS. TJAELDE, who has come in from the
right.) Well, my dear, how are you?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Oh, I find it more and more difficult to get about.

Tjaelde. There is always something the matter with you, my dear! Can I
hav