ABSTRACT

While the worthy young gentleman Finn Böðvarsson was still living in Copenhagen, he and I were once bidden out by a painter called Morten. His wife’s name was Ellen. It was St Martin’s Eve, which is the evening before St Martin’s Day 1 . This couple dealt well and honourably by us and invited us in love and friendship to stay there also through the night, rather than to stagger home very late 2 through the streets, and they added that we were like to meet drunken folk on that night. I was desirous of accepting their invitation, but nothing would suit my worthy comrade but to go home; and so it had to be. They gave us a small lantern to carry, with a tiny light.