EGIL Keep From me, lest thou be scorched.
THORDIS Was he not gentle, Exalted, tender? Who that saw his smile But thought “A star breaks”?—Now for us all dark, A shape of clay. Oh, why should sudden love Come like the tempest, and blot out from skies Of memory all golden yesterdays? But so it is; the storm of thee shuts down Over my world; thy lightnings have put out His smile.
EGIL Is it not enough that I have spilled His blood upon my soul, but must that, more, Pollute the whiteness of a goddess’ heart And desecrate perfection?
THORDIS [With a wan smile of pain, drawing him with the arbutus toward her.] Come—to prison.
EGIL His blood, I said; did you not hear? Not Yorul— I murdered him!
THORDIS You do not understand; It was not you; ’twas I.
EGIL The hand of Yorul Stabbed him, but my intent.
THORDIS You do not ask Where I’ve prepared your dungeon.—Come.
EGIL Too late, You precious chains! I am free.
THORDIS Thy words again! “Free, but alone, adrift!” I hear thee still, Forever, calling in thy need of me— “O take me back, the wild thing!” Come!—I take thee; I nestle thee once more, a captive. Come, Alone no more!