Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/134

 [To herself.] Now I understand why they said that Nils Lykke was unlike all others.

There is one thing in the world that might drive a man to madness, but to think of it; and that is the thought of what might have been, had things but fallen out in this way or that. Had I met you on my path while the tree of my life was yet green and budding, at this hour, mayhap, you had been

But forgive me, noble lady! Our speech of these past few moments has made me forget how we stand one to another. 'Twas as though a secret voice had told me from the first that to you I could speak openly, without flattery or dissimulation.

That can you.

'Tis well;—and it may be that this openness has already in part reconciled us. Ay—my hope is yet bolder. The time may yet come when you will think of the stranger knight without hate or bitterness in your soul. Nay,—mistake me not! I mean not —but some time, in the days to come. And that this may be the less hard for you—and as I have begun once for all to speak to you plainly and openly —let me tell you

Sir Knight!