Arnes. Kari is more open-mouthed than you think. You have had a child before this one.
(Halla shields her face with her hands as though warding off a blow. Arnes sits silent.)
Halla. Why don't you say that I killed my child? That is what you meant to say. You know I did it.
Arnes. My cursed mouth.
Halla. You judge me. How can you? You don't know what it means to bring a life into the world. It grows heavier day by day like the snow of winter. If we had had spring and sunshine! But the times were hard and food was scarce. I did a good deed when I laid my child out in the cold. Far less suffering that than life!
Arnes. I do not judge what you did.
Halla. No, you thought I was an angel who was longing to be your harlot. You can go with a lighted candle into my soul and search it. You will find no remorse there. What could we have done with a child, if we had been forced to flee? Should we have left it with strangers? And how do you think it would have fared? A child of felons, scorned by all!
Arnes (broken-hearted). I did not know that my words would hurt you so much.
Halla. Do you think I did it with a light heart? I have given birth to two children, and cruel was the pain, but I would rather bear ten children than live that night over again. When I had carried my child out into the cold, my mind gave way. In my ravings, I thought the child lay by my side, and above us was a flock of birds—pitch black. I bent over it to shield it, and the birds pecked into my back, into my lungs they pecked. (Stops short from emotion.)
Arnes. Would I were dead!