You see: while in far-off lands you strayed,
She, too, has altered, the little maid.
GUDMUND.
Aye truly! But that she should be— Why,
'Tis a marvel in very deed.
[Takes both SIGNE's hands and looks at her.
Yet, when I look in these eyes so blue,
The innocent child-mind I still can read—
Yes, Signe, I know that 'tis you!
I needs must laugh when I think how oft
I have thought of you perched on my shoulder aloft
As you used to ride. You were then a child;
Now you are a nixie, spell-weaving, wild.
SIGNE. [Threatening with her finger.]
Beware! If the nixie's ire you awaken,
Soon in her nets you will find yourself taken.
GUDMUND. [To himself.]
I am snared already, it seems to me.
SIGNE.
But, Gudmund, wait—you have still to see
How I've shielded your harp from the dust and the rust.
[As she goes out to the left.