“Then thou art foolish, for doubtless he thrust thee from him.”
“Nay, Gudruda, he drew me to him. Hearken, I say, thou sister. Vex me not, for I go my ways and thou goest thine. Thou art strong and fair, and hitherto thou hast overcome me. But I am also fair, and, if I find space to strike in, I also have a show of strength. Pray thou that I find not space, Gudruda. Now is Eric thine. Perchance one day he may be mine. It lies in the lap of the Norns.”
“Fair words from Atli’s bride,” mocked Gudruda.
“Ay, Atli’s bride, but never Atli’s love!” said Swanhild, and swept on.
A while after Eric rode up. He was shamefaced and vexed at heart, because he had yielded thus to Swanhild’s beauty, and been melted by her tender words and kissed her. Then he saw Gudruda, and at the sight of her all thought of Swanhild passed from him, for he loved Gudruda and her alone. He leapt down from his horse and ran to her. But, drawn to her full height, she stood with dark flashing eyes and fair face set in anger.
Still, he would have greeted her loverwise; but she lifted her hand and waved him back, and fear took hold of him.
“What now, Gudruda?” he asked, faltering.
“What now, Eric?” she answered, faltering not. “Hast seen Swanhild?”
“Yea, I have seen Swanhild. She came to bid farewell to me. What of it?”
“What of it? Why ‘thus! and thus! and thus!’ didst thou bid farewell to Atli’s bride. Ay, ‘thus and thus,’ with clinging lips and twined arms. Warm and soft was thy farewell kiss to her who would have slain me, Brighteyes!”