It is early spring, a late afternoon. Gudfinna and Oddny are sitting on the beds facing each other, Gudfinna mending shoes, Oddny putting patches on a coat. The Shepherd Boy is standing in the middle of the room, throwing a dart adorned with red cock's feathers. The costumes are old Icelandic.
The Boy (throws his dart). Ho! ho! I came pretty near hitting her that time!
Gudfinna. Hitting whom?
The Boy. Can't you see the little spider hanging down from the beam? I mean to shoot and break her thread.
Oddny. You are always up to some tomfoolery.
Gudfinna. Leave the poor creature in peace! It has done you no harm.
The Boy (laughing). Do you think she'd break her legs if she should happen to fall down on the floor?
Gudfinna. I won't have it! Destroying a spider's web is sure to bring bad luck, and you'll end by tearing the window-pane with your dart.
The Boy. Kari has told me of a man who broke a bow-string with one shot, and that from way off. (Shoots.)
Gudfinna. If you don't stop, you shall wear your shoes with the holes in them.