ULFHEIM.

And he, no doubt, was a brilliant and beautiful personage?

MAIA.

Oh, no, he wasn’t so superlatively beautiful either.  But he pretended that he would take her with him to the top of the highest of mountains, where there were light and sunshine without end.

ULFHEIM.

So he was a mountaineer, was he, that man?

MAIA.

Yes, he was—­in his way.

ULFHEIM.

And then he took the girl up with him—–?

MAIA.

[With a toss of the head.] Took her up with him finely, you may be sure!  Oh no! he beguiled her into a cold, clammy cage, where—­as it seemed to her—­there was neither sunlight nor fresh air, but only gilding and great petrified ghosts of people all around the walls.

ULFHEIM.

Devil take me, but it served her right!

MAIA.

Yes, but don’t you think it’s quite a comical story, all the same?

ULFHEIM.

[Looks at her moment.] Now listen to me, my good companion of the chase—–­

MAIA.

Well, what it is now?

ULFHEIM.

Should not we two tack our poor shreds of life together?

MAIA.

Is his worship inclined to set up as a patching-tailor?

ULFHEIM.

Yes, indeed he is.  Might not we two try to draw the rags together here and there—­so as to make some sort of a human life out of them?

MAIA.

And when the poor tatters were quite worn out—­what then?

ULFHEIM.

[With a large gesture.] Then there we shall stand, free and serene—­ as the man and woman we really are!

MAIA.

[Laughing.] You with your goat-legs yes!

ULFHEIM.

And you with your—.  Well, let that pass.

MAIA.

Yes, come—­let us pass—­on.

ULFHEIM.

Stop!  Whither away, comrade?

MAIA.

Down to the hotel, of course.