DAGNY (deeply moved). No, no!
HIORDIS. Hast thou, then, been faint of heart, so that Sigurd has been put to shame?
DAGNY (overpowered). Hiordis, Hiordis!
HIORDIS (smiling scornfully). Yet thy lot has been a happy one all
these years;—think'st thou that Sigurd can say the same?
DAGNY. Torture me not. Woe is me! thou hast made me see myself
too clearly.
HIORDIS. A jesting word, and at once thou art in tears! Think no more of it. Look what I have done to-day. (Takes some arrows from the table.) Are they not keen and biting—feel! I know well how to sharpen arrows, do I not?
DAGNY. And to use them too; thou strikest surely, Hiordis! All that thou hast said to me—I have never thought of before. (More vehemently.) But that Sigurd——! That for all these years I should have made his life heavy and unhonoured;—no, no, it cannot be true!
HIORDIS. Nay now, comfort thee, Dagny; indeed it is not true. Were Sigurd of the same mind as in former days, it might be true enough; for then was his whole soul bent on being the foremost man in the land;—now he is content with a lowlier lot.
DAGNY. No, Hiordis; Sigurd is high-minded now as ever; I see it well, I am not the right mate for him. He has hidden it from me; but it shall be so no longer.
HIORDIS. What wilt thou do?