Ljot. I can burn it myself, if you grudge me the keeping it. Goes in.

Sveinungi (talking in the doorway). And then you get angry to boot. (To Indridi.) I see you have undone all the strappings.

Indridi. Yes.

Sveinungi. Where is Helgi?

Indridi. He went to the mill.

Enter Helgi from the left.

Sveinungi. There he comes. Then you can do what I told you. Goes in.

Helgi. Anything amiss? The master seemed cross.

Indridi. That's nothing.

Helgi. Is Sølvi gone?

Indridi. Yes. Let's get through with this. You go into the storehouse and take the things as I hand them to you. They carry the breadstuffs into the storehouse.

Einar appears in the door of the smithy.

Einar. H'm, I feel I'm getting old. There was a time when I could forge three nails in one heating, and now it's a hard rub getting through with one.

Indridi. We can't be young more than once.

Einar. And we can't cast the slough of old age, as they could once upon a time.

Indridi. Would you care to?

Einar. I don't know. I almost think these new times are not for me.

Enter Frida.

Frida. Einar, I was to call you to breakfast. (Runs against Sveinungi, who is coming out.)

Sveinungi. There, there! Why, you have brought it all under cover and the ropes in the shed. That's fine. Now, Helgi, when you have eaten, you can go and begin to cut turf. The others will join you when they have had their sleep. (Lowering his voice.) Einar, will you ask Ljot to come out? I want to have a little talk with her.

Einar. I will. Einar and Frida go in.

(Sveinungi locks the drying-shed and looks into the storehouse, pretending to be very busy.)

Enter Ljot from the house.

Ljot. Here I am, father.

Sveinungi. I did not hear you. (Smiles.) You step as lightly as a young foal. You are not hurt at what I said a moment ago? It was only for your own good. I won't have any shiftless straggler around here making eyes at you. The parish can gossip about something else. (Ljot goes to the fence, resting her hands on it.) But that was not what I wanted to talk to you about. (Goes to her.) You know Arne, the farmer at Skrida. You have seen his son Halfdan. What do you think of him?

Ljot. I have seen him only a few times.

Sveinungi. There are two brothers. The older one is married and is going to take the farm, but Halfdan is most like his father. You should see the way their place is kept. Their yard is nearly as big as this, and there are long stretches where the grass stands so high that it falls over. It's as fine a sight as I have ever seen. We stopped there, Jorunn and I, for a full hour, on our way back from town, and there was no lack of welcome. Can you guess what we talked about?

Ljot. No.

Sveinungi (laughs). You can't? Arne asked me whether I would have his son Halfdan for a son-in-law.

Ljot. And what did you say?

Sveinungi. I said I had nothing against it—quite the contrary. I should be content if you had a husband like him, and we are getting old, your mother and I. We don't know when death may strike us. It may come at any time, and I should like to see the man who is to take my place when I am gone.

Ljot. I don't think you are getting old.

Sveinungi. Oh, yes, I feel it. Sometimes when I want to use this or that for my work I find that I have clean forgotten where I put it. That could never have happened when I was young; there was not a thing that slipped my mind. But what do you say, Ljot? Your mother thinks as I do, so it lies solely with you whether you will accept this happiness or not.

Ljot. I don't think I care for that happiness.

Sveinungi. You should weigh your words well before you speak. Perhaps you fancy there will be a wooer like Halfdan coming every day. But you don't mean that; you only mean that he must come and speak for himself.

Ljot. I am so young, father.

Sveinungi. You are past nineteen. There are many girls who marry at seventeen, and you have been so well taught that you can readily take your place at the head of a household. I need not be ashamed of you there, that's sure. And you will have your mother near you, for it is understood, of course, that you and Halfdan stay here with us. You will have your bridal now in the fall, and next spring you can take over the farm.

Ljot. But I scarcely know him at all!

Sveinungi. Your mother did not know me, and I can't see but that we two have lived happily together all these years. It is not always those who marry for what they call love who are happiest. Arne and I are friends from old times, and I have as good as given him my word.

Enter Jorunn from the house.

Ljot (straightening herself). You should not have done that without speaking to me.

Sveinungi. What has come over you? Do you mean to go right against the will of your parents? I can tell you one thing, if it is this tramp you are thinking of, it shall never come to pass. Not as long as I live. Goes in.

Jorunn. Your father was angry. What were you talking about?

Ljot. He wants me to marry a man I don't know.

Jorunn. Does he? You cannot say of Halfdan that he is a man you don't know.

Ljot. We have never spoken a word to each other.

Jorunn. Yet he has been here several times. Once he stayed overnight. Besides you have heard him spoken of, and you know his people. Everybody knows the Hofstad people.

Ljot. Father has given his word without asking me. He had no right to do that.

Jorunn. You have worked yourself up, Ljot. I don't understand you. Can it really be that you have promised yourself to some one without letting your parents know it?

Ljot. I have not.

Jorunn. You need not hide anything from me. If you have given your word, you must keep it.

Ljot. I told you that I have not.

Jorunn. You could not tell your old mother a falsehood! But if you are free and not bound by any promise, this puzzles me. Halfdan is young and a capable man, and his father is one of the richest and most respected farmers in the countryside.

Ljot. But I don't care for him. You can't mean that I should marry a man I don't care for. (Leans over the fence.)

Jorunn. Once you are married you will come to care for him. (Goes to her.) It is a great step you are about to take. Weigh your words well, so that you may not rue them. Be careful not to thrust away happiness when she reaches out her hand to you, or there may come a day when you will repent. You must know that your parents wish nothing but what is good for you.

Ljot (with tears in her voice). It seems to me you are against me, both you and father.

Jorunn (stroking her hair). I believe you are hiding something from your mother. I think I know what it is. You were very much pleased with the bird's skin you got to-day. (Ljot is silent.) The winter your father asked me in marriage there came to my home a man who used to go from farm to farm doing odd carpenter jobs. One evening I carried his coffee to him where he was at work. He had a big chest standing there that he kept his tools in. I can remember it plainly; it was yellow. I stood waiting for him to finish his coffee so that I could take the cup back, when he took out of the chest a work-box—the prettiest thing I've ever seen. It was of dark brown wood, the lid round, with pictures of animals carved on it. He made me a present of it, and when I was about to go, he asked me for a kiss, but I would not give it to him.

Ljot. You never told me about this.

Jorunn. He was a good-looking man, with big brown eyes. Well, when your father came, my father and mother both wanted me to become his wife. It was not altogether easy for me, but I would not go against their wishes. I thought it my duty to please them, and besides the other man had never asked me straight out.

Ljot. But he was the one you cared for.

Jorunn. Perhaps I thought so at the time. (Silence.) He went away on the night he heard that I was promised to your father. A year after I married your father, he was drowned—some thought he had taken his own life.

Ljot. Maybe that was your doing.

Jorunn. How can you say such a thing to your mother!

Ljot. Don't be angry with me, mother.

Jorunn. A man who cannot bear his fate is not worth much. I should not have been happy as his wife, and I could not wish for a better man than your father. When two people live together a whole lifetime and have an honest will to do what is right by each other, they will come to care for each other, as the years go by. (Silence.) I have told you this so that you may think it over, but if you feel in your own heart that it is right to go against the wishes of your parents, then you will have to do so. (Ljot is silent.) You say nothing, my child? I have tried as best I could, in my poor way, to do what seemed my duty. I cannot give my daughter any other or better advice. When the hour of sorrow comes, as it must come to you too, there is nothing else that can bring you peace.

Ljot. I will do as you wish.

Jorunn. I always knew that I had a good daughter. (Strokes her hair.) How glad your father will be! This will be a great day for him, and you will never regret that you did as your parents wished. Goes in.

(Ljot stands alone.)

Enter Einar and Frida from the house.

Einar (to Frida). You can start the bellows. I hope the fire has not gone out. They go into the smithy.

Enter Helgi from the house. He goes into the smithy and comes out again with a turf-spade in his hand.

Einar (in the door). Shall you be home for dinner?

Helgi. No, the others will bring it to me. Exit to the left.

Enter Sveinungi.

Sveinungi. Are you here? Won't you come in and talk to your father? (Patting her shoulder.) This is the happiest day in my life since the time I got your mother. They go in.

Enter Jakobina with a plate of chicken-feed in her hand; goes to the door of the smithy.

Jakobina. Is Frida there? Can you spare her while she runs over to the chickens for me with their food?

Einar. Yes, indeed. Frida goes with the chicken-feed.

Jakobina (sits down on the horse-block). I had such a queer dream last night. I thought I was standing out there in the yard, and I saw a giant come striding across the hraun. I saw him stop right there—he stood with arms stretched out and bent down over the house.

ACT II

A grass-grown yard, some rocks partly sunk in the ground. In the foreground, farthest to the right, a tent. In the background, to the left, the farm-house. In the outskirts of the yard a sheep-house with the roof and part of the walls in ruins. Beyond it, the "hraun," a lava-field stretching for miles, studded with jutting rocks and lava formations.

It is evening of the same day.

The Servants seated, singing

(They cover their eyes in prayer. Silence.)

Jorunn (uncovers her eyes). The peace of God be with us.

(The Servants rise and shake hands.)

Jorunn (patting Frida's cheek). Now you must not be afraid of the earthquake any more. When we trust in Him, no harm can befall us. (Gathers the hymn-books.) Please take the books back to the tent, Ljot; it's a little too early yet to go in. (Ljot goes with the books.) And you may fetch the shoes I was sewing. I left them in there.

(Some sit on the rocks, others squat in the grass. Only Sveinungi remains standing.)

Ljot (coming from the tent). Here are the shoes, mother.

Jorunn. Thank you, daughter.

(Ljot lies down in the grass, gazing out over the "hraun.")

Indridi. Did you hear the church-bells ringing?

Einar. I did not hear them.

Jorunn. I did. They rang of themselves.

(Silence.)

Indridi. Where were you, Thora, when the shock came?

Thora. In the kitchen.

Indridi. It's your week, isn't it?

Thora. I don't know how I ever got out, for the whole floor heaved under me, so that I was thrown right against the wall, and you should have seen me when I came out—all black from the falling soot.

Jon. And the rest of you—where were you?

Bjørg. We were sitting in the badstofa, sorting wool.

Rannveig. It felt as if some one was shaking the roof and trying to pull up the whole house.

Indridi. We were just about to leave our work and run home to hear how you had fared, but then I thought they would be sure to send us word (looking askance at Sveinungi) if anything had happened. Besides, we wanted to get enough turf cut while we were at it so that we should not have to go back another time.

Jon. But I must say that when I began working again, it went against me. It was like cutting into a living thing—like skinning a live animal.

Rannveig. Ugh, yes.

Jon. And the place where we'd cut turf last year looked like an ugly scar.

(Silence.)

Jorunn. Did you meet anybody when you came home from work?

Indridi. No.

Jorunn. And no outsider has been here this afternoon. They don't come when they are wanted. I ought to have sent one of you to the next farm to find out how things were there, anyway.

Jon. I can easily go yet, if mistress wants me to.

Jorunn. Oh, no, it's getting late. I hope we shall have no bad tidings from any one.

Indridi. I hope so, too.

Jon. I'm afraid the Vik farm-house has fallen. It is both old and poorly built—nothing like ours.

(Silence.)

Einar. You should have seen the hawks, Jorunn, right after the shock. They kept flying back and forth, just as they do when they're warding off a foe from their nest.

Jorunn. They were frightened.

Einar. And no wonder. Great pieces of rock came tumbling down into the creek. The sheep out on the heath yonder huddled together in flocks, looking like old snow.

Jon. Then you were out hunting.

Einar. No, I was not hunting. I was looking at the hawks, wondering whether one could get at them by going down in a rope.

(Silence.)

Jorunn. What about the boy, Sveinungi? Do you mean to let him stay with the sheep all night?

Sveinungi. Certainly. He can sleep to-morrow.

Jorunn. I was only thinking he might be afraid to be alone.

Sveinungi. He's no more afraid than grown people.

Jorunn. I saw he took both the dogs with him.

(Silence.)

Helgi. There was a man walking across the hraun a little while ago. Who can it be?

Indridi. I saw him too.

Jon. It was Sølvi. He carried his gun.

(Silence.)

Ljot. How still it is on the hraun.

Einar. I thought you were listening for something, while you lay there quiet as a mouse. I thought you were listening for the earthquake.

Frida. Can one hear the earthquake when it is coming?

Rannveig. Are you afraid? Yes, sometimes it can be heard a little before the shock. They say it sounds like the clatter of hoofs from many hundred horses.

Bjørg. To me it sounded like the whistling of the wind.

Jorunn. You should sit down, Sveinungi. You'll get tired standing.

Sveinungi. I am not tired.

(Silence.)

Frida. What if the earth should open up right here where we are sitting?

Rannveig. It won't. Who told you that it might?

Frida. Jakobina said so.

Rannveig. You must not listen to all she says; she talks so much.

Jakobina. I say nothing but what is true. At the time of the last great earthquake the ground cracked and made a fissure many miles long; I saw it myself. The earth opened her mouth to breathe.

Einar (to Frida). Don't be afraid. I have a black lamb—do you remember it?—with white feet. When I get it home in the fall, I will give it to you.

Jakobina (facing the "hraun"). Not one of you knows the hraun as I do. Can you tell me why the hollows out there are never filled with snow? Have you ever seen the snow falling fast enough to cover even the rims around them? It's the earth blowing her breath against it. The earth sets traps for men; the earth is a man-eater.

Jorunn (to Jakobina). You must not frighten the child.

(Silence.)

Sveinungi. Wasn't it you, Jakobina, who said that sometimes blood comes on the window-panes? It bodes ill, they say.

Jakobina. Why do you ask? There is no one here who has seen it, is there?

Sveinungi. Never mind why I ask.

Jakobina. Well, if I must say it, it is a sign that some one in the house is going to die soon.

Sveinungi. Or it might bode ill to the farm itself, maybe.

Jakobina. What do you mean?

Sveinungi. That it might be doomed.

Jorunn. Indeed, it means neither the one nor the other. It's nothing but a silly old superstition.

Sveinungi. Not that I believe in it, but look at the windows. Don't they look as if they were wet with blood?

Jorunn. It's the sun shining on them.

Sveinungi. And see the gables, how white they are. They don't look whiter from the fields down yonder when you spread a cloth over them to call me home.

Indridi (lowering his voice). Did you see the sheep-cot fall?

Thora. Yes, it happened just as we came out.

Indridi. What did Sveinungi say?

Thora. He said nothing.

Indridi. But he told us to move out here.

Thora. No, it was Jorunn who made us do it.

Sveinungi (to Jorunn). I did not tell you that when I came into the badstofa, right after the shock, our old clock had stopped running.

Jorunn. Was it broken?

Sveinungi. No, when I touched the pendulum it started again, but the place was still as death when I entered. The grass on the roof cast a shadow over the skylight. It was as quiet as when my father lay dead.

Jorunn. I think we had better go and lie down. There's nothing gained by staying here any longer.

Sveinungi. I can't see that there was any need of moving out, but you had your way, Jorunn.

Jorunn. I feel sure that they have done the same on all the other farms. We must be thankful it is summer, so that we can stay outdoors.

Sveinungi. Must we be thankful? So you give thanks that my work is ruined.

Jorunn. We must take what comes, whether good or evil, and trouble may help us to remember all the things we have neglected to give thanks for.

Sveinungi. I don't know but that I have always done my duty. I have built all the sheep-cots; I have fenced in the land and looked after it as best I could. I demand justice of Him up there.

Jorunn (rising). I won't listen to such talk. Did you buy the land from Him, perhaps? And what did you have to pay with that was not His already?

Sveinungi. You needn't mock me. You can walk all over the yard and cut your handful of grass with your scissors wherever you like; it grows thick as wool everywhere, and it's all my work.

Jorunn. Was it you who ruled the hraun for thousands of years so that it did not swallow up the bit of ground you are standing on, which you call yours? Goes into the tent.

Sveinungi. Which I call mine! (Stamping his foot.) It is mine! I've bought the land from Him up there with my work.

(The Servants rise.)

Jon. I believe the worst is over and that we shall be let off with the fright.

Indridi. I hope so.

Bjørg. You can never tell. Remember what happened the time when more than three-score farm-houses fell in one night.

Thora. It must have been dreadful.

Sveinungi. Now you must all go into the tent. The Servants go in.

Jakobina. I shouldn't wonder if something dreadful were to happen to the farm. Goes into the tent.

(Sveinungi stands quite still a little while, then walks a few steps, pauses, takes a few more steps, and again stops.)

Enter Ljot from the tent.

Ljot. Are you not coming, father? Mother told me to ask you to come in.

Sveinungi. Why doesn't she lie down? She need not wait for me.

Ljot. We are so frightened, father—all of us.

Enter Jorunn from the tent.

Jorunn. It's getting cold.

Ljot. Yes, it is cold.

Jorunn. The sun has set.

Sveinungi. Why are you coming out again, Jorunn? Can't you sleep?

Jorunn. No, I can't sleep.

Sveinungi. Do you remember the night you thought I was lost in the snowstorm? A light was burning in the upper window. To see it was better than meeting a human being, and when the dogs began to bark behind the door, it was just as if the house itself were speaking—calling out its joy. It sounded better to me than a human voice, and when I stepped into the hall, the darkness seemed to put its arms around me. Never have I had so sweet a welcome, not even when my daughter was a little child.

Jorunn. Ought we not to go in, Sveinungi? It's getting late. You too must go in now, Ljot.

Ljot. I am only waiting for father.

Jorunn. Do you hear that, Sveinungi? Ljot is waiting for you, and the servants can't sleep either before you go in.

Sveinungi. I am not going to stay in the tent to-night. I am going home.

Jorunn. You don't mean that!

Ljot. But, father dear!

Sveinungi. I won't let any foolish fear drive me out of my house, and it is nothing but a foolish fear. The earthquake will not come so suddenly but that I shall have time to get out. It's impossible. Besides, the badstofa will hold. It's well built, though it's old.

Jorunn. Do you think the badstofa will hold if there should come a big earthquake? You cannot mean that!

Sveinungi. It is not at all sure there will be another shock. It's only a fancy that the earthquake must needs keep on once it has begun. I believe it is over; I feel it. (During the last speeches the Servants have been coming out of the tent.) What are you running out for? Go in, all of you.

Jakobina. I must tell master about the dream I had. It was last night. I thought I was standing out in the yard and saw a giant coming across the hraun. He walked with long, unsteady strides (she takes a few steps forward; her voice sounds distant and threatening), and seemed to grope as if he were blind. Then I saw him standing right by the house—with arms stretched out; he bent down over the farm and stood there like a stone cross. (Makes the sign of the cross with her arms.)

Sveinungi. Did I ask you to tell me about your dream?

Jorunn. I beg of you, Sveinungi, that you do not stay at the house to-night. It would be tempting God.

Sveinungi. It's rather He who is tempting me. If I ran away, it would serve me right to have the house fall down. (Pointing to the house.) There it has stood waiting for me every evening as far back as I can remember. I have seen the windows flaming in the sun. I have seen them wet with rain. I have seen them white with frost. I've been with it ever since I was a child. I have climbed on the roof as I climbed on my father's shoulders. When I stood on the ridge, it seemed it had lifted me up to let me see better. No, Jorunn, even if I knew the earthquake to be coming, I should go home. Nor is it any wonder that I long to get into my own bed. I am old now, and I have waked up there almost every morning of my life. I have gone to bed so tired and worn that I could barely stand on my feet and have waked up young and strong. I have been ill and have lain there watching the sunbeams flitting across the floor. Sveinungi walks homeward.

Jorunn. Are you going home? (Following him hurriedly.) Whatever happens, your fate shall be mine.

Sveinungi (stops and looks back). Do you hear that? She is not afraid, my wife. Sveinungi and Jorunn walk homeward.

Ljot. How can you do it, father? (Walks a few steps away from the others and remains standing there.)

Jakobina. God be with you, Jorunn, and with you, Sveinungi. You have been good to me, these nineteen years. Goes into the tent.

(Silence.)

Helgi. There, they went in.

Bjørg. Yes, they are in there now.

Jon. I think we had better go and lie down, since there is nothing we can do.

Indridi. No, we can do nothing.

Thora. It will be a long night.

Rannveig. Poor Ljot! The Servants walk slowly into the tent.

(Einar and Ljot remain. Silence.)

Einar (goes to Ljot). I wish I could make you happy as easily now as when you were a little girl.

Ljot (struggling with her tears). Father does not care for me at all. He does not think of me for a moment.

Einar. Your father cares for you, no doubt of that, but he is beside himself with the earthquake.

Ljot. You don't know what I am talking about. In sudden fear. If only something dreadful does not happen!

Einar. We must trust to the Lord to keep us all. Won't you too try to lie down?

Ljot. I can't sleep.

Einar. Perhaps you would rather stay here a little while. Let me bring a shawl for you; it is getting cold. Goes into the tent.

(Ljot stands motionless looking out over the "hraun.")

Einar (coming from the tent). They are asleep in there already. Won't you put the shawl around your shoulders?

Ljot. I am not cold.

Einar. Then I'll spread it over one of the rocks for you to sit on. They are wet with dew. (Spreads it over the stone.) There! What did you have in mind when you stood there looking out over the hraun?

Ljot. I was thinking of an old tale Jakobina once told me. It was about a young girl. She went out on the hraun with bare feet to meet her sweetheart, and wherever she stepped the moss grew under her foot.

Einar. That's a pretty story. I can tell you one too, if you care to hear it. It might help to quiet you a little.

Ljot (takes his hand). You are so good.

Einar (sits down; relates). In olden times, they say, there was an underground stream that ran straight through the country from south to north and was meant as a sign of truce between land and sea. It happened that a cross-eyed, ill-natured shark was trying to tempt a young whale to swim that stream from end to end. The whale's name was Spray-tail. He was the handsomest of all the young whales and could shoot three jets of water at once. The shark boasted that he had swum through the stream himself, but of course it was only real fishes that could do it. Spray-tail felt stung on behalf of his kin, and as the shark had told him that there were openings here and there in the roof of this underground way, he made up his mind to try his luck, trusting that he could hold his breath from one opening to another. But it fell out otherwise. Spray-tail never came back. The last ever heard of him was that some swans, in their flight over the hills, had seen a jet of blood spurting out of the ground.

The whales were in a rage and, as they thought in their grief that the land had broken truce, they goaded the sea to wreak vengeance upon it. Are you listening?

(Ljot nods her head.)

One night a dreadful storm broke. The sea came rushing in over the land, fell upon the rocks like a monster, and tore them to pieces. The next morning thousands of sea fowls' nests were wrecked, and where green fields had been there were black sands. Now there was sore need of wise counsel. A shrewd old raven said that the fire should be roused. All the birds agreed that the raven had spoken well, but none dared do the deed. The raven was made judge, and decided that the spider should undertake the ticklish task, and that the eagle should carry her to the crater.

They gave the spider ten fat blue-flies to take with her. She spun herself well and firmly under some strong feathers, and off they went. They flew over deep dales, over dreary wastes, and over glaciers. In the evening they came to the fire-mountain, and there they rested overnight, but they did not sleep much, for the fire was snoring like a giant down below in the earth. Early the next morning the eagle flew to the top of the mountain. The spider made fast her thread and spun herself slowly down into the crater. It was dark down there, and the heat and sulphur made her eyes smart, but she could see enough to make out that the fire lay sleeping under a very thin black coverlet. The spider knew nothing but the finger-language, and she moved her legs incessantly, telling fully and truly all about the havoc that was wrought, and urging the fire to come to the rescue lest the whole land be swallowed up by the sea. Yet the fire did not stir. Then the spider bent her legs up under her and let herself fall all the way down to the fire. She stretched out one leg and poked the black coverlet. From that moment she couldn't remember anything till she was lying at the rim of the crater again. She peeped down and saw that the fire had thrown off the coverlet and was red and blazing. Then the spider understood that her task was done. Everybody knows how the fire had its reckoning with the sea and filled up whole fjords with lava and ashes.

(Sølvi is seen approaching from the "hraun.")

Ljot (rising). You must tell me that story over again some time. I could not listen rightly.

Einar (rising). Who is that coming so late? (Looking.) Now I know him; it's Sølvi.

Ljot. I saw him a while ago walking over the hraun.

Einar. He may bring us news.

Enter Sølvi carrying a gun and with a game-bag on his back.

Sølvi. Good evening.

Einar. Good evening.

Sølvi. How good it seems to meet people! You have moved out, of course?

Einar. You are walking late.

Sølvi. You will have to take the earthquake as my excuse. This has been a bad day. What has happened here at your place?

Einar. One of the outbuildings came down and a part of the yard-fence.

Sølvi. At Hol one wall of the house fell. The folks barely got out. (Lays down his gun.)

Einar. Was anybody hurt?

Sølvi. No. I could not stay there any longer. I saw your house standing, and that was a relief. (Looking at Ljot.) Yet I had to come.

Einar. What do you think? Do you believe the earthquake is over?

(Sølvi fails to answer; looks at Ljot.)

Ljot. My father and mother are sleeping in the house.

Sølvi. Why in the world are they doing that!

Ljot. We were ready to go to bed, but father would not come into the tent. Mother begged him to stay, but it was no use, and when father went back to the house, mother went with him.

Sølvi. But the buildings may fall at any moment if there should be another shock.

Einar. Sveinungi knows that as well as we do, but he would not let the house stand forsaken.

Sølvi. We must hope that no harm will come to them. So that is why you are still up. Have the others been in bed long?

Ljot. No, they went in a little while ago.

Einar. May I look at your gun?

Sølvi. As much as you like.

Einar. Is it loaded?

Sølvi. It is. (To Ljot.) You are not angry with me for coming so late? It seemed an eternity till Sunday.

Ljot. I knew you would come.

Sølvi. You knew it! Won't you sit down? I have something to show you. (Ljot sits down. Sølvi opens the game-bag; takes from it a large fern.) I found this out on the hraun. Is it not beautiful? (Sits down.) Look, the stem is no thicker than a hair, while the leaf can easily hide your whole face. (Holds it up before her face.) It trembles when your breath touches it.

Ljot. You have pulled it up by the roots. May I have the moss that came with it? (Sølvi loosens the moss from the roots. Ljot lays it in her hand; smiles.) When it withers, I'll keep it in my shoes.

Sølvi. Will you keep it in your shoes? See these two small ferns on one root. They look like two slim hands. (Looks at Ljot.)

Einar (puts the gun aside). It's a fine one. It must have cost a good deal. Perhaps you bought it yourself abroad?

Sølvi. I did. (Lays down the fern. To Ljot.) If you have time, you can plant it to-morrow. It won't hurt it to lie overnight in the wet grass.

Einar (goes to Sølvi). How long were you abroad?

Sølvi. Seven years.

Einar. That's a long time. (Sits down.)

Ljot. My father was angry with me for keeping your bird's skin.

Sølvi. Was he? And I was thinking of asking you to visit me at Hol some time before I leave.

Ljot. I hardly think I dare to.

Sølvi. You could take Einar with you. It is not much more than an hour's ride, and I have a number of things I should like to show you,—petrified tree-trunks that I have dug out of the earth, in which you can see plainly every bud and shoot, and stone slabs with impressions of flowers and leaves that lived thousands of years ago. Should you like to see them?

Ljot. I should like it ever so much.

Sølvi. I have some rocks, too, baked by fire and furrowed by ice. If you knew all the tales they tell me! They lay bare to me things that are hidden from every one else.

(A whirring of wings is heard far away.)

Einar (stands up, pointing with his finger). Look, there is a flock of ducks flying over the hraun. (Stands gazing.)

Sølvi (in a low voice). It made me so happy to see you. This evening, when the sun was setting, I reached out toward it. I did the same when I saw you.

Einar. They're flying unusually low. There they alight—I'll get my gun.

Sølvi (rising). I'll lend you mine. (Hands him the gun.) It will carry a distance of a hundred and thirty feet.

Einar. What size shot have you?

Sølvi. Duck-shot.

Einar. Ljot, you don't mind, do you? I shall not be gone long. If they rise, I'm not going after them. Exit.

(Ljot rises.)

Sølvi (goes to her). My star must be in the heavens to-night.

Ljot. You must not think that I was sitting up so late because I was waiting for you—I saw you walking over the hraun—but we shan't talk about that.

Sølvi. Shall I tell you why I came home from abroad? It was for your sake.

Ljot (sits down). That is not true.

Sølvi (sits down). One night, the last winter I was away, I must have been dreaming, but it seemed to me that I was awake. I had come back home and was walking on the hraun. The hraun was covered with ashes. As I walked, I suddenly fell into a deep cleft and kept on falling and falling. At last I found myself lying on the bottom, unable to stir. Death came and sucked the life out of my eyes and held it in her hand like a tiny flame. Suddenly a woman stood beside me dressed in moss. She pleaded for me so long that death gave her my life. She looked like you. It was you. Don't you know that you hold my life in your hands?

(They rise.)

Ljot. I think I shall go in. It is hard to tell when Einar will be back. When he is out hunting he forgets everything.

Sølvi. I love you, Ljot! You have not been out of my thoughts since the first time I saw you. Everything reminds me of you—the sun, the sky—

Ljot. I too have been happy in seeing you and talking with you. (Stands still as death.) This morning, right after you had gone, my father told me that on his way home from town he had seen his old friend,—and my father wanted me to promise myself to the son of his old friend, but I would not, because I was thinking of you. Then my mother came and talked to me—and I gave in. I could not do anything else.

Sølvi. Why did I not speak before! You won't feel hurt at what I say, Ljot? You must not let your parents decide your life. That is for you to do.

Ljot. You don't know my father. If he thought I was standing here talking to you, I can't tell what he would do.

Sølvi. I am convinced your parents have but one wish, and that is for your happiness.

Ljot. I don't know. My mother does not say much about happiness; she does her duty—and I know mine. (Turns toward the tent.)

Sølvi. Are you going?

Ljot. It is better that we two should not meet again—it would only cause us suffering. (Moves away.)

Sølvi (following her). You don't realize what you are about to do! You will be committing a terrible crime—against all the wonderful days that life meant us two to have together. For you do care for me, Ljot, don't you? (Ljot is silent.) I thought you cared for me. When you spoke to me this morning you blushed, and I thought it was your heart that gave me its promise. The joy of it overwhelmed me.

Ljot. It matters little whom I care for. I have given my word.

Sølvi. You think it is your duty to keep your word, but there is another duty that is far greater, and that is to open your arms to happiness when it comes. There is no greater duty. It is the meaning of our existence. You must feel that, you who have grown like a flower out of the earth!

Ljot. It is not only that I have given my word. If I had neither father nor mother, I should break my promise, but I know that it would grieve my parents. This morning father said to me that it was the happiest day of his life since he got my mother, and I know it was true.

Sølvi. You must tell your parents that you cannot keep your word. You must do it for my sake. (Kneeling.) You are the only one I care for in all the world.

Ljot. I can't deal such a blow to my father. No other living being has been so good to me as my father.

Sølvi (rising). You do not care for me at all.

Ljot. You think it is easy for me! (With tears in her eyes) I own a spring—I cleanse it every Saturday. I have told it your name. (Goes to the tent.)

Sølvi. You are going! (Turns away from Ljot, sits down on one of the rocks, covers his face.)

Ljot (stands silent for a long time, then goes over to him and takes his hands from his face). I love you.

(Sølvi takes her face between his hands and kisses her.)

Enter Jakobina.

Jakobina (coming slowly from the tent). We are not all asleep in there.

(Sølvi and Ljot rise.)

Sølvi (holding Ljot by the hand). Let us go out on the hraun and look for Einar.

Ljot (runs to Jakobina, puts her arms around Jakobina's neck and holds her close). I know that you care for me. (Goes to Sølvi and takes his hand.) Come! They go toward the "hraun."

(Jakobina stands still, following them with her eyes, then shakes her head and turns toward the tent.)

ACT III

The farm-house is in ruins. Only the farther side of the "badstofa" is standing. It looks like a dark cavern. The servants have gathered near the wreckage; they are bare-headed, the men in their shirt-sleeves. Sveinungi is standing near the dark opening.

It is night.

Sveinungi (to Jon). You dare not go in.

Jon (peering into the gloom). I don't know. There's only one post that holds the roof, and it may snap at any moment.

Sveinungi. It won't. It is drift-timber, which never rots.

Jon. And besides, it stands aslant; the slightest push would make it go with a crash, and there would be no getting out alive if the heavy roof came down.

Sveinungi. You are afraid. Is there anybody else who dares?

Jorunn. You cannot ask any man to go in there.

Sveinungi (to Jon). It would take you but a moment to bring out those few things. There's my tall chest—you know where it stands—and my old clock; you can unscrew it from the wall with your knife.

Jon. I am not going in there.

Sveinungi. Get drunk and brag—that you know how to do, all of you. (Starts into the ruins.)

Jon. Is master going in there?

Sveinungi. Do you think I will let my things be ruined, because you are a coward?

Jon. Then I will go with you. It's easier for two. Sveinungi and Jon disappear from view.

Jorunn. No matter what happens to that man, he will never learn to bend. (Goes to the ruins; looks in.) Can you see anything in there? Is it not too dark?

(Silence.)

Sveinungi and Jon appear, carrying the tall chest.

Sveinungi. Indridi and you, Helgi, come here and take it from us. Set it over there. Sveinungi and Jon disappear again.

Indridi (to Jorunn, as the men carry the chest out into the open). Can we leave it here?

Jorunn. Yes. (She peers into the ruins again.)

Enter Jakobina from the direction of the tent.

Jakobina (goes to Jorunn, lays her hand on Jorunn's shoulder). I must feel that you are indeed safe and sound. (Stroking her arm.) When you went home, I was afraid that you would never come out of that house again. I thought your husband must be struck with blindness.

Jorunn. You don't know where Einar and Ljot have gone?

Jakobina. I saw Ljot going out on the hraun.

Sveinungi and Jon appear, carrying the clock.

Sveinungi. You will have to be a little careful, the glass is broken. (Steps out into the open. To Jon.) I dare say you have had enough of this.

Jon. I can't say it was any too cheerful in there.

Sveinungi (to the men). You can carry the clock into the tent; the dampness here might be bad for it. And you, Bjørg, go and get a blanket to spread over the chest. Exeunt Servants, Bjørn running, Indridi and Helgi carrying the clock, Jakobina following them.

Jorunn. You are lucky, Sveinungi, that you have not come to grief with your foolhardiness.

Sveinungi. It is nothing but my duty to care as best I can for what is mine. I have risked my life before in a good deal worse dangers than this. But I must send some one to look after the boy. He may have lost all the sheep. Will you go, Jon?

Jon. I will.

Sveinungi. You had better drive the sheep home.

Jorunn. And if you should see Ljot and Einar, tell them to hurry.

Jon. I will. Exit.

Sveinungi. Where are they?

Jorunn. They are out on the hraun.

Enter Bjørg, carrying a blanket.

Bjørg. Here is the blanket.

Sveinungi. Why did they go out there? (Takes the blanket, goes to the chest, and runs his hand over it.) Here it's been bruised. (Throws the blanket over it.) I did not think you would have all this to go through. (Takes a long breath.) It is pretty hard when one has grown as old as I am to see one's work destroyed.

Jorunn. That is true.

Sveinungi. My only comfort is that I shall have a capable man to help me put up the buildings again. (Gazing over the "hraun.") What can it be that is keeping Ljot out there? Has she been gone long?

Rannveig. I don't know.

Sveinungi. I hope she has not gone down into one of the fissures. One can't tell what may happen. The walls might cave in, or they might close overhead.

Enter Indridi from the direction of the tent.

Indridi. Einar and Ljot are coming now. We could see them from the tent.

Sveinungi. Are they coming? (Goes toward the background.) Yes, Ljot has seen us; she is running.

Jorunn. She must have thought we were buried under the ruins.

Sveinungi (looking). There is a third person with them. Who can it be?

Rannveig. So there is.

Indridi. I believe it's Sølvi.

Sveinungi. What business has he out there at night?

Indridi. It's hard to tell!

Sveinungi. I do hope that Ljot has not been talking to that fellow.

Enter Helgi from the direction of the tent.

(Silence.)

Enter Ljot, running.

Ljot (puts her arms around her mother). I was so frightened!

Jorunn. Were you frightened? You are quite out of breath with running.

Sveinungi (smiling). And have you no greeting for your father?

Ljot. Dear, dear father! (Embraces him.)

Sveinungi. You were glad when you saw us?

Ljot. I was so glad that I don't know yet what I am saying. I was afraid you had been caught under the ruins. I thought that was to be my punishment.

Sveinungi (stroking her hair). Have you done anything you should be punished for?

Ljot (taking his hand). Be fond of me, father! Be very, very fond of me!

Enter Einar and Sølvi.

Einar. Thank God, you are safe! Then you had time to get out?

Jorunn. No, we were in there.

Ljot. Were you in there? (Goes to the ruins.) How weird it looks!

Sveinungi (goes to the ruins). It is only the one post that holds it all. If that had snapped, you would never have laid eyes on us again.

Einar (looks into the ruins). It's a miracle it didn't break.

Jorunn. Yes, if it had not been God's will, we should not be here now.

Einar (turns from the ruins). It was not any too cheerful out on the hraun either. The place seemed suddenly to have become alive.

Sveinungi. What in the world made you go out there?

Einar. There was a flock of ducks flying over the hraun, and I wanted to try a shot at them.

Sveinungi (to Ljot). And why did you go with him?

Ljot. I was not with him. Sølvi and I stayed behind.

Sveinungi. Do you sit alone with a stranger in the middle of the night? (To Sølvi.) And you, why are you here at this time? I will not have you go hunting on my land without asking my leave.

Sølvi. I was not hunting on your land.

Sveinungi. But you are picking up stones, and I forbid you to take as much as a single pebble from my land. Now you know that.

Ljot. Why do you say that, father?

Sveinungi. You can go into the tent, Ljot. You have nothing to do here.

Ljot. I have something to say to you.

Sveinungi. What is it? (Ljot is silent. To the Servants.) You can go. To-morrow I shall have a talk with you, Einar, which you will remember.

Einar. It was not my fault.

Sveinungi (to the Servants). Go! What are you waiting for? Exeunt Servants.

Sveinungi (to Ljot). Now, what is it you have to say to me?

Sølvi. I have come here to ask for the hand of your daughter.

Sveinungi. Has not my daughter told you that she is betrothed?

Ljot. I have told him everything. I never cared for Halfdan—you know that, father, and I will not be his wife.

Jorunn. Ljot, it has never happened yet that one of my kin has broken faith. If you do it, you will be the first.

Sveinungi. And you have not reckoned with your father. It does not lie altogether with yourself to break your word. Do you think you can make a fool of me? (To Sølvi.) It does not make you my son-in-law that you have trifled with my daughter.

Sølvi. It was no mere chance that we two found each other. Only for Ljot's sake have I stayed so long in these parts. I came here to-night to find out how you had fared; I could not help it.

Sveinungi. You feel proud that you have coaxed a young girl to break her word. You think yourself very brave, and you have taken advantage of her when she was beside herself with fear. You have come like a thief in the dead of night.

Sølvi. I love your daughter. There is nothing wrong in that, and I am proud and happy that she has given me her heart.

Sveinungi (to Ljot). So that is what you have done. I dare say you have met him before and more than once behind my back.

Ljot. Not once.

Sveinungi. And straightway you are ready to break your word. You knew that Halfdan's father is the best friend I have.

Ljot. You must forgive me, father!

Sveinungi. And you knew I had sent him word that everything was settled.

Ljot (takes his hand). Do you remember, father, when I was so little that I had to put my arms around your knee? Then you never said no when I asked you for anything. I am still your little girl.

Sveinungi. Let me go!

Ljot. You do care for me, father. I know of no one who has been so good to me as you. You have given me everything that I call my own. You must give me my happiness!