"Surely she raves again?" he said.
Ulrika was silent.
"Rave? Tell him I do not rave!" cried Lovisa rising in her bed to utter
her words with more strength and emphasis. "May be I have raved, but
that is past! The Lord, who will judge and condemn my soul, bear witness
that I speak the truth! Olaf Gueldmar, rememberest thou the days when we
were young?"
"'Tis long ago, Lovisa!" replied the _bonde_ with brief gentleness.
"Long ago? It seems but yesterday! But yesterday I saw the world all
radiant with hope and joy and love--love that to you was a mere
pastime--but with _me_--" She shuddered and seemed to lose herself in a
maze of dreary recollections. "Love!" she presently muttered--"'love is
strong as death,--jealousy is cruel as the grave--the coals thereof are
coals of fire which hath a most vehement flame!' Even so! You, Olaf
Gueldmar, have forgotten what I remember,--that once in that yesterday of
youth, you called me fair,--once your lips branded mine! Could I forget
that kiss? Think you a Norse woman, bred in a shadow of the constant
mountains, forgets the first thrill of passion waked in her soul? Light
women of those lands where the sun ever shines on fresh follies, may
count their loves by the score,--but with us of the North, _one_ love
suffices to fill a lifetime.
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