DAGNY. Five nights?
HIORDIS. Here in the north each night is a whole winter long. (Quickly and with an altered expression.) Yet the place is fair enough, doubt it not! Thou shalt see sights here such as thou hast not seen in the halls of the English king. We shall be together as sisters whilst thou bidest with me; we shall go down to the sea when the storm begins once more; thou shalt see the billows rushing upon the land like wild, white-maned horses—and then the whales far out in the offing! They dash one against another like steel-clad knights! Ha, what joy to be a witching-wife and ride on the whale's back—to speed before the skiff, and wake the storm, and lure men to the deeps with lovely songs of sorcery!
DAGNY. Fie, Hiordis, how canst thou talk so!
HIORDIS. Canst thou sing sorceries, Dagny?
DAGNY (with horror). I!
HIORDIS. I trow thou canst; how else didst thou lure Sigurd to thee?
DAGNY. Thou speakest shameful things; let me go!
HIORDIS (holding her back). Because I jest! Nay, hear me to the end! Think, Dagny, what it is to sit by the window in the eventide and hear the kelpie[1] wailing in the boat-house; to sit waiting and listening for the dead men's ride to Valhal; for their way lies past us here in the north. They are the brave men that fell in fight, the strong women that did not drag out their lives tamely, like thee and me; they sweep through the storm-night on their black horses, with jangling bells! (Embraces DAGNY, and presses her wildly in her arms.) Ha, Dagny! think of riding the last ride on so rare a steed!
[1] "Draugen," a vague and horrible sea-monster.
DAGNY (struggling to escape). Hiordis, Hiordis! Let me go! I will not hear thee!