ÖRNULF.
None.
GUNNAR.
[_Appalled._] None! [_Softly._] And Thorolf, Thorolf!
[_Deep emotion among the bystanders._ HIÖRDIS _shows signs
of a violent mental struggle;_ DAGNY _weeps silently by
the high-seat on the right._ SIGURD _stands beside her,
painfully agitated._
ÖRNULF.
[_After a short pause._] It is hard for a many-branching pine to be
stripped in a single storm. But men die and men live;—hand me a
horn; I will drink to my sons’ memory. [_One of_ SIGURD’S _men gives
him a horn._] Hail to you where now ye ride, my bold sons! Close
upon your heels shall the bronze-gates not clang, for ye come to the
hall with a great following. [_Drinks, and hands back the horn._]
And now home to Iceland! Örnulf has fought his last fight; the old
tree has but one green branch left, and it must be shielded warily.
Where is Thorolf?
EGIL.
[_To his father._] Ay, let me see Thorolf! Örnulf says he will carve
me a ship with many, many warriors aboard.
ÖRNULF.
I praise all good wights that Thorolf came not with us; for if he
too—nay, strong though I be, _that_ had been too heavy for me to
bear. But why comes he not? He was ever the first to meet his
father; for to both of us it seemed we could not live apart a single
day.
GUNNAR.
Örnulf, Örnulf!
ÖRNULF.
[_With growing uneasiness._] Ye stand all silent, I mark it now.
What ails you? Where is Thorolf?
DAGNY.
Sigurd, Sigurd—this will be the sorest blow to him!
GUNNAR.
[_Struggling with himself._] Old man!—No——and yet, it cannot be
hid——
ÖRNULF.
[_Vehemently._] My son! Where is he?
GUNNAR.
Thorolf is slain!
ÖRNULF.
Slain! Thorolf? Thorolf? Ha, thou liest!
GUNNAR.
I would give my warmest heart-blood to know him alive!
HIÖRDIS.
[_To_ ÖRNULF.] Thorolf was himself to blame for what befell; with
dark sayings he gave us to wit that thou hadst fallen upon Egil and
slain him;—we had parted half in wrath, and thou hast ere now
brought death among my kindred. And moreover—Thorolf bore himself at
the feast like a wanton boy; he brooked not our jesting, and spoke
many evil things. Not till then did Gunnar wax wroth; not till then
did he raise his hand upon thy son; and well I wot that he had good
and lawful ground for that deed.
ÖRNULF.
[_Calmly._] Well may we see that thou art a woman, for thou usest
many words. To what end? If Thorolf is slain, then is his saga over.
EGIL.
If Thorolf is slain, I shall have no warriors.
ÖRNULF.
Nay, Egil—we have lost our warriors now, both thou and I. [_To_
HIÖRDIS.] Thy father sang:
Jökul’s kin for Jökul’s slayer
many a woe shall still be weaving.
Well hast thou wrought that his words should come true. [_Pauses a
moment, then turns to one of the men._] Where got he his
death-wound?
THE MAN.
Right across his brow.
ÖRNULF.
[_Pleased._] Ha; that is an honourable wound; he did not turn his
back. But fell he sideways, or in toward Gunnar’s feet?
THE MAN.
Half sideways and half toward Gunnar.
ÖRNULF.
That bodes but half vengeance; well well,—we shall see!
GUNNAR.
[_Approaching._] Örnulf, I know well that all my goods were naught
against thy loss; but crave of me what thou wilt——
ÖRNULF.
[_Sternly interrupting him._] Give me Thorolf’s body, and let me go!
Where lies he?
[GUNNAR _points silently to the back._
ÖRNULF.
[_Takes a step or two, but turns and says in a voice of thunder to_
SIGURD, DAGNY, _and others who are making as though to follow him,
sorrowing._] Stay! Think ye Örnulf will be followed by a train of
mourners, like a whimpering woman? Stay, I say!—I can bear my
Thorolf alone. [_With calm strength._] Sonless I go; but none shall
say that he saw me bowed.
[_He goes slowly out._
HIÖRDIS.
[_With forced laughter._] Ay, let him go as he will; we shall scarce
need many men to face him should he come with strife again! Now,
Dagny—I wot it is the last time thy father shall sail from Iceland
on such a quest!
SIGURD.
[_Indignant._] Oh, shame!
DAGNY.
[_Likewise._] And thou canst mock him—mock him, after all that has
befallen?
HIÖRDIS.
A deed once done, ’tis wise to praise it. This morning I swore hate
and vengeance against Örnulf;—the slaying of Jökul I might have
forgotten—all, save that he cast shame upon my lot. He called me a
leman; if it _be_ so, it shames me not; for Gunnar is mightier now
than thy father; he is greater and more famous than Sigurd, thine
own husband!
DAGNY.
[_In wild indignation._] There thou errest, Hiördis—and even now
shall all men know that thou dwellest under a coward’s roof!
SIGURD.
[_Vehemently._] Dagny, beware!
GUNNAR.
A coward!
HIÖRDIS.
[_With scornful laughter._] Thou pratest senselessly.
DAGNY.
It shall no longer be hidden; I held my peace till thou didst mock
at my father and my dead brothers; I held my peace while Örnulf was
here, lest he should learn that Thorolf fell by a dastard’s hand.
But now—praise Gunnar nevermore for that deed in Iceland; for Gunnar
is a coward! The sword that lay drawn between thee and the
bear-slayer hangs at my husband’s side—the ring thou didst take from
thy arm thou gavest to Sigurd. [_Takes it off and holds it aloft._]
Behold it!
HIÖRDIS.
[_Wildly._] Sigurd!
THE CROWD.
Sigurd! Sigurd did the deed!
HIÖRDIS.
[_Quivering with agitation._] He! he!—Gunnar, is this true?
GUNNAR.
[_With lofty calm._] It is all true, save only that I am a coward;
no coward or dastard am I.
SIGURD.
[_Moved._] That art thou not, Gunnar! That hast thou never been!
[_To the rest._] Away, my men! Away from here!
DAGNY.
[_At the door, to_ HIÖRDIS.] Who is now the mightiest man at the
board—my husband, or thine?
[_She goes out with Sigurd and his men._
HIÖRDIS.
[_To herself._] Now have I but one thing left to do—but one deed to
think upon: Sigurd or I must die!
ACT THIRD.
_The hall in_ GUNNAR’S _house. It is day._
HIÖRDIS _sits on the bench in front of the smaller high-seat, busy
twisting a bow-string; on the table lie a bow and some
arrows._
HIÖRDIS.
[_Pulling at the bow-string._] It is tough and strong; [_With
a glance at the arrows_] the shaft is both keen and
well-weighted—[_Lets her hands fall in her lap_] but where is
the hand that——! [_Vehemently._] Flouted, flouted by him—by
Sigurd! I must hate him more than others, that can I well
mark; but many days shall not pass ere I have——[_Meditating._]
Ay, but the arm, the arm that shall do the deed——?
GUNNAR _enters, silent and thoughtful, from the back._
HIÖRDIS.
[_After a short pause._] How goes it with thee, my husband?
GUNNAR.
Ill, Hiördis; I cannot away with that deed of yesterday; it lies
heavy on my heart.
HIÖRDIS.
Do as I do; get thee some work to busy thee.
GUNNAR.
Doubtless I must.
[_A pause;_ GUNNAR _paces up and down the hall, notices
what_ HIÖRDIS _is doing, and approaches her._
GUNNAR.
What dost thou there?
HIÖRDIS.
[_Without looking up._] I am twisting a bow-string; canst thou not
see?
GUNNAR.
A bow-string—of thine own hair?
HIÖRDIS.
[_Smiling._] Great deeds are born with every hour in these times;
yesterday thou didst slay my foster-brother, and I have woven this
since daybreak.
GUNNAR.
Hiördis, Hiördis!
HIÖRDIS.
[_Looking up._] What is amiss?
GUNNAR.
Where wast thou last night?
HIÖRDIS.
Last night?
GUNNAR.
Thou wast not in the sleeping-room.
HIÖRDIS.
Know’st thou that?
GUNNAR.
I could not sleep; I tossed in restless dreams of that—that which
befell Thorolf. I dreamt that he came——No matter; I wakened. Then
methought there sounded a strange, fair song through all the house;
I arose; I pushed the door ajar; here I saw thee sitting by the
log-fire—it burned blue and red—fixing arrow-heads, and singing
sorceries over them.
HIÖRDIS.
I did what was needful; for strong is the breast that must be
pierced this day.
GUNNAR.
I understand thee well: thou wouldst have Sigurd slain.
HIÖRDIS.
Mayhap.
GUNNAR.
Thou shalt never have thy will. I will keep peace with Sigurd,
howe’er thou goad me.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Smiling._] Dost think so?
GUNNAR.
I know it!
HIÖRDIS.
[_Hands him the bow-string._] Tell me, Gunnar—canst loose this knot?
GUNNAR.
[_Tries it._] Nay, it is too cunningly and firmly woven.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Rising._] The Norns[14] weave yet more cunningly; their web is
still harder to unravel.
GUNNAR.
Dark are the ways of the Mighty Ones;—what know we of them, thou or
I?
HIÖRDIS.
Yet one thing I know surely: that to both of us must Sigurd’s life
be baleful.
[_A pause;_ GUNNAR _stands lost in thought._
HIÖRDIS.
[_Who has been silently watching him._] Of what thinkest thou?
GUNNAR.
Of a dream I had of late. Methought I had done the deed thou
cravest; Sigurd lay slain on the earth; thou didst stand beside him,
and thy face was wondrous pale. Then said I: “Art thou glad, now
that I have done thy will?” But thou didst laugh and answer:
“Blither should I be didst thou, Gunnar, lie there in Sigurd’s
stead.”
HIÖRDIS.
[_With forced laughter._] Ill must thou know me if such a senseless
dream can stay thy hand.
GUNNAR.
Tell me, Hiördis, what thinkest thou of this hall?
HIÖRDIS.
To speak truly, Gunnar, sometimes it seems to me too strait and
narrow.
GUNNAR.
Ay, ay, so I have thought; we are one too many.
HIÖRDIS.
Two, mayhap.
GUNNAR.
[_Who has not heard her last words._] But that shall be set right.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Looks at him interrogatively._] Set right? Then thou art minded
to——?
GUNNAR.
To fit out my warships and put to sea; I will win back the honour I
have lost because thou wast dearer to me than all beside.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Thoughtfully._] Thou wilt put to sea? Ay, so it may be best for us
both.
GUNNAR.
Even from the day we sailed from Iceland, I saw that it would go ill
with us. Thy soul is strong and proud; there are times when I
well-nigh fear thee; yet, it is strange—chiefly for that do I hold
thee so dear. Dread goes forth from thee like a spell; methinks thou
couldst lure me to the blackest deeds, and all would seem good to me
that thou didst crave. [_Shaking his head reflectively._]
Unfathomable is the Norn’s rede; Sigurd should have been thy
husband.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Vehemently._] Sigurd!
GUNNAR.
Yes, Sigurd. Vengeance and hatred blind thee, else wouldst thou
prize him better. Had I been like Sigurd, I could have made life
glad for thee.
HIÖRDIS.
[_With strong but suppressed emotion._] That—that deemest thou
Sigurd could have done?
GUNNAR.
He is strong of soul, and proud as thou to boot.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Violently._] If that be so—[_Collecting herself._] No matter, no
matter! [_With a wild outburst._] Gunnar, take Sigurd’s life!
GUNNAR.
Never!
HIÖRDIS.
By fraud and falsehood thou mad’st me thy wife—that shall be
forgotten! Five joyless years have I spent in this house—all shall
be forgotten from the day when Sigurd lives no more!
GUNNAR.
No harm shall e’er befall him from my hand. [_Shrinks back
involuntarily._] Hiördis, Hiördis, tempt me not!
HIÖRDIS.
Then must I find another avenger; not long shall Sigurd mock at me
and thee! [_Clenching her hands in convulsive rage._] With her—that
simpleton—with her mayhap he is even now sitting alone, dallying,
and making sport of us; speaking of the bitter wrong that was done
me when in thy stead he bore me away; telling how he laughed over
his guile as he stood in the mirk of my bower, and I knew him not!
GUNNAR.
Nay, nay, he does not so!
HIÖRDIS.
[_Firmly._] Sigurd and Dagny must die! I cannot draw breath till
they two are gone! [_Comes close up to him, with sparkling eyes, and
speaks passionately, but in a whisper._] Wouldst thou help me to
_that_, Gunnar, then should I live in love with thee; then should I
clasp thee in such warm and wild embraces as thou dream’st not of.
GUNNAR.
[_Wavering._] Hiördis! Wouldst thou——?
HIÖRDIS.
Set thy hand to the work, Gunnar—and the heavy days shall be past.
No longer will I quit the hall when thou comest, no longer speak
harsh things and quench thy smile when thou art glad. I will clothe
me in furs and costly silken robes. When thou goest to war, I will
follow thee; when thou ridest forth in peace, I will ride by thy
side. At the feast I will sit by thee and fill thy horn, and drink
to thee and sing fair songs to make glad thy heart!
GUNNAR.
[_Almost overcome._] Is it true? Thou wouldst——
HIÖRDIS.
More than that, trust me, ten times more! Give me but revenge!
Revenge on Sigurd and Dagny, and I will——[_Stops as she sees the
door open._] Dagny—comest thou here!
DAGNY.
[_From the back._] Haste thee, Gunnar! Call thy men to arms!
GUNNAR.
To arms! Against whom?
DAGNY.
Kåre the Peasant is coming, and many outlaws with him; he means thee
no good; Sigurd has once barred his way; but who can tell——
GUNNAR.
[_Moved._] Sigurd has done this for me!
DAGNY.
Sigurd is ever thy faithful friend.
GUNNAR.
And we, Hiördis—we, who thought to——! It is as I say—there is
witchcraft in all thy speech; no deed but seemeth fair to me, when
thou dost name it.
DAGNY.
[_Astonished._] What meanest thou?
GUNNAR.
Nothing, nothing! I thank thee for thy tidings, Dagny; I go to
gather my men together. [_Turns towards the door, but stops and
comes forward again._] Tell me—how goes it with Örnulf?
DAGNY.
[_Bowing her head._] Ask not of him. Yesterday he bore Thorolf’s
body to the ships; now he is raising a grave-mound on the
shore;—there shall his sons be laid.
[GUNNAR _goes out by the back in silence._
DAGNY.
Until evening there is no danger. [_Coming nearer._] Hiördis, I have
another errand in thy house; it is to thee I come.
HIÖRDIS.
To me? After all that befell yesterday?
DAGNY.
Even because of that. Hiördis, foster-sister, do not hate me; forget
the words that sorrow and evil spirits placed in my mouth; forgive
me all the wrong I did thee; for, trust me, I am now tenfold more
hapless than thou!
HIÖRDIS.
Hapless—thou! Sigurd’s wife!
DAGNY.
It was _my_ doing, all that befell—the stirring up of strife, and
Thorolf’s death, and all the scorn that fell upon Gunnar and thee.
Mine is all the guilt! Woe upon me!—I have lived so happily; but
after this day I shall never know joy again.
HIÖRDIS.
[_As if seized by a sudden thought._] But before—in these five long
years—all that time hast thou been happy?
DAGNY.
Canst thou doubt it?
HIÖRDIS.
Yesterday I doubted it not; but——
DAGNY.
What meanest thou?
HIÖRDIS.
Nay, ’tis nought; let us speak of other matters.
DAGNY.
No truly. Hiördis, tell me——!
HIÖRDIS.
It will profit thee little; but since thou wilt have it so——[_With a
malignant expression._] Canst thou remember once, over in Iceland—we
had followed with Örnulf thy father to the Council, and we sat with
our playmates in the Council Hall, as is the manner of women. Then
came two strangers into the hall.
DAGNY.
Sigurd and Gunnar.
HIÖRDIS.
They greeted us in courtly fashion, and sat on the bench beside us;
and there passed between us much merry talk. There were some who
must needs know why these two vikings came thither, and if they were
not minded to take them wives there in the island. Then said Sigurd:
“Twill be hard for me to find the woman that shall be to my mind.”
Örnulf laughed, and said there was no lack of high-born and
well-dowered women in Iceland; but Sigurd answered: “The warrior
needs a high-souled wife. She whom I choose must not rest content
with a humble lot; no honour must seem too high for her to strive
for; gladly must she follow me a-viking; war-weed must she wear; she
must egg me on to strife, and never blink her eyes where
sword-blades lighten; for if she be faint-hearted, scant honour will
befall me.” Is it not true, so Sigurd spake?
DAGNY.
[_Hesitatingly._] True, he did—but——
HIÖRDIS.
_Such_ was she to be, the woman who could make life fair to him; and
then—[With a scornful smile] then he chose _thee_!
DAGNY.
[_Starting, as in pain._] Ha, thou wouldst say that——?
HIÖRDIS.
Doubtless thou hast proved thyself proud and high-souled; hast
claimed honour of all, that Sigurd might be honoured in thee—is it
not so?
DAGNY.
Nay, Hiördis, but——
HIÖRDIS.
Thou hast egged him on to great deeds, followed him in war-weed, and
joyed to be where the strife raged hottest—hast thou not?
DAGNY.
[_Deeply moved._] No, no!
HIÖRDIS.
Hast thou, then, been faint of heart, so that Sigurd has been put to
shame?
DAGNY.
[_Overwhelmed._] Hiördis, Hiördis!
HIÖRDIS.
[_Smiling scornfully._] Yet thy lot has been a happy one all these
years! Think’st thou that Sigurd can say the same?
DAGNY.
Enough, enough. Woe is me! thou hast made me see myself too clearly.
HIÖRDIS.
A jesting word, and straightway thou art in tears! Think no more of
it. Look what I have done to-day. [_Takes some arrows from the
table._] Are they not keen and biting—feel! I know well how to
sharpen arrows, do I not?
DAGNY.
And to use them too; thou strikest surely, Hiördis! All this thou
hast said to me—I had never thought of it before. [_More
vehemently._] But that Sigurd——! That for all these years I should
have made his life heavy and unhonoured;—no, no, it cannot be true!
HIÖRDIS.
Nay now, comfort thee, Dagny; indeed it is not true. Were Sigurd of
the same mind as in former days, it might be true enough; for then
was his whole soul bent on being the foremost man in the land;—now
he is content with a lowlier lot.
DAGNY.
No, Hiördis; Sigurd is high-souled now as ever; I see it well, I am
not the right mate for him. He has hidden it from me; but it shall
be so no longer.
HIÖRDIS.
What wilt thou do?
DAGNY.
I will no longer hang like a clog upon his feet; I will be a
hindrance to him no longer.
HIÖRDIS.
Then thou wilt——?
DAGNY.
Peace; some one comes!
_A House-carl enters from the back._
THE CARL.
Sigurd Viking is coming to the hall.
HIÖRDIS.
Sigurd! Then call Gunnar hither.
THE CARL.
Gunnar has ridden forth to gather his neighbours together; for Kåre
the Peasant would——
HIÖRDIS.
Good, good, I know it; go! [_The Carl goes. To_ DAGNY, _who is also
going._] Whither wilt thou?
DAGNY.
I will not meet Sigurd. Too well I feel that we must part; but to
meet him _now_—no, no, I cannot!
[_Goes out to the left._
HIÖRDIS.
[_Looks after her in silence for a moment._] And it was she I would
have——[_Completes her thought by a glance at the bow-string_]. That
had been a poor revenge;—nay, I have cut deeper now! —Tis hard to
die, but sometimes harder still to live!
SIGURD _enters from the back._
HIÖRDIS.
Belike it is Gunnar thou seekest; be seated, he will be here even
now.
[_Is going._
SIGURD.
Nay, stay; it is thee I seek, rather than him.
HIÖRDIS.
Me?
SIGURD.
And ’tis well I find thee alone.
HIÖRDIS.
If thou comest to mock me, it would sure be no hindrance to thee
though the hall were full of men and women.
SIGURD.
Ay, ay, well I know what thoughts thou hast of me.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Bitterly._] I do thee wrong mayhap! Nay, nay, Sigurd, thou hast
been as a poison to all my days. Bethink thee who it was that
wrought that shameful guile; who it was that sat by my side in the
bower, feigning love, with the laugh of cunning in his heart; who it
was that flung me forth to Gunnar, since for him I was good enough,
forsooth—and then sailed away with the woman he held dear!
SIGURD.
Man’s will can do this thing and that; but fate rules in the deeds
that shape our lives—so has it gone with us twain.
HIÖRDIS.
True enough; evil Norns hold sway over the world; but their might is
little if they find not helpers in our own heart. Happy is he who
has strength to battle with the Norn—and it is that I have now in
hand.
SIGURD.
What mean’st thou?
HIÖRDIS.
I will venture a trial of strength against those—those who are over
me. But let us talk no more of this; I have much to do to-day.
[_She seats herself at the table._
SIGURD.
[_After a short pause._] Thou makest good weapons for Gunnar.
HIÖRDIS.
[_With a quiet smile._] Not _for_ Gunnar, but _against_ thee.
SIGURD.
Most like it is the same thing.
HIÖRDIS.
Ay, most like it is; for if I be a match for the Norn, then sooner
or later shalt thou and Gunnar——[_Breaks off, leans backwards
against the table, looks at him with a smile, and says with an
altered ring in her voice:_] Wouldst know the thought that sometimes
comes to me? Oft have I made it my pastime to limn pleasant pictures
in my mind; at such times I sit and close my eyes and think: Now
comes Sigurd the Strong to the isle;—he will burn us in our house,
me and my husband. All Gunnar’s men have fallen; only he and I are
left; they set light to the roof from without:—“A bow-shot,” cries
Gunnar, “one bow-shot may save us”;—then the bow-string
breaks—“Hiördis, cut a tress of thy hair and make of it a
bow-string—our life is at stake.” But then I laugh—“Let it burn, let
it burn—to me, life is not worth a wisp of hair!”
SIGURD.
There is a strange might in all thy speech.
[_Approaches her._
HIÖRDIS.
[_Looks coldly at him._] Wouldst sit beside me?
SIGURD.
Thou deemest my heart is bitter toward thee. ’Tis the last time,
Hiördis, that we shall have speech together; there is something that
gnaws me like a sore sickness, and in this wise I cannot part from
thee; thou must know me better.
HIÖRDIS.
What wouldst thou?
SIGURD.
Tell thee a saga.
HIÖRDIS.
Is it sad?
SIGURD.
Sad, as life itself.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Bitterly._] What knowest thou of the sadness of life?
SIGURD.
Judge when my saga is over.
HIÖRDIS.
Then tell it me; I will work the while.
[_He sits on a low stool to her right._
SIGURD.
Once upon a time there were two young vikings, who set forth from
Norway to win wealth and honour; they had sworn each other
friendship, and held truly together, how far soever they might fare.
HIÖRDIS.
And the two young vikings hight Sigurd and Gunnar?
SIGURD.
Ay, we may call them so. At last they came to Iceland; and there
dwelt an old chieftain, who had come forth from Norway in King
Harald’s days. He had two fair women in his house; but one, his
foster-daughter, was the noblest, for she was wise and strong of
soul; and the vikings spoke of her between themselves, and never had
they seen a fairer woman, so deemed they both.
HIÖRDIS.
[_In suspense._] Both? Wilt thou mock me?
SIGURD.
Gunnar thought of her night and day, and that did Sigurd no less;
but both held their peace, and no man could say from her bearing
whether Gunnar found favour in her eyes; but that Sigurd found none,
that was easy to discern.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Breathlessly._] Go on, go on——!
SIGURD.
Yet ever the more must Sigurd dream of her; but of that wist no man.
Now it befell one evening that there was a drinking-feast; and there
did that proud woman vow that no man should possess her save he who
wrought a mighty deed, which she named. Then high beat Sigurd’s
heart for joy; for he felt within him the strength to do that deed.
But Gunnar took him apart and told him of his love;—Sigurd said
nought of his, but went to the——
HIÖRDIS.
[_Vehemently._] Sigurd, Sigurd! [_Controlling herself._] And this
saga—is it true?
SIGURD.
True it is. One of us had to yield; Gunnar was my friend; I could do
nought else. So Gunnar had thee to wife, and I wedded another woman.
HIÖRDIS.
And didst come to love her!
SIGURD.
I learned to prize her; but one woman only has Sigurd loved, and
that is she who frowned upon him from the first day they met.
[_Rises._] Here ends my saga; and now let us part.—Farewell,
Gunnar’s wife; never shall we meet again.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Springing up._] Stay, stay! Woe to us both; Sigurd, what hast thou
done?
SIGURD.
[_Starting._] I, done? What ails thee?
HIÖRDIS.
And all this dost thou tell me now! But no—it cannot be true!
SIGURD.
These are my last words to thee, and every word is true. I would not
thou shouldst think hardly of me, therefore I needs must speak.
HIÖRDIS.
[_Involuntarily clasps her hands together, and gazes at him in
voiceless astonishment._] Loved—loved me—thou! [_Vehemently, coming
close up to him._] I will not believe thee! [_Looks hard at him, and
bursts forth in wild grief._] Yes, it is true, and—hateful for us
both!
[_Hides her face in her hands, and turns away from him._
SIGURD.
[_Appalled._] Hiördis!
HIÖRDIS.
[_Softly, struggling with tears and laughter._] Nay, heed me not! I
meant but this, that——[_Lays her hand on his arm._] Sigurd, thou
hast not told thy saga to the end; that proud woman thou didst tell
of—she returned thy love!
SIGURD.
[_Starts backwards._] Thou?
HIÖRDIS.
[_With composure._] Aye, Sigurd, I have loved thee, at last I
understand it. Thou sayest I was ungentle and short of speech
towards thee; what wouldst thou have a woman do? Could I offer thee
my love? Then had I been little worthy of thee. I deemed thee ever
the noblest man of men; and then to know thee another’s
husband—’twas that caused me the bitter pain, that myself I could
not understand!
SIGURD.