Hiördis.
[Rising.] The Norns[1] 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.
- ↑ The "Nornir" were the Fates of northern mythology.
