Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 2).djvu/62



[Going off.] Well well, I must shift for myself as best I may. But this I tell you: if ye think to deal gently with Hiördis, ye will come to rue it. I know her—and I know where to strike her sorest! [Goes down towards the shore.

He is hatching some revenge. Sigurd, it must be hindered!

[Angrily.] Nay, let him do as he will; she is worth no better!

That meanest thou not; bethink thee, she is thy foster-child.

Woe worth the day when I took her under my roof! Jökul's words begin to come true.

Jökul's?

Ay, her father's. When I gave him his death-wound he fell back upon the sward, and fixed his eyes on me and sang:

Jökul's kin for Jökul's slayer many a woe shall still be weaving; Jökul's hoard whoe'er shall harry thence shall harvest little gladness.

When he had sung that, he was silent awhile, and laughed; and thereupon he died.

Why should'st thou heed his words?