GUNLOED. Who reproaches the strong viking who looks back when he is
quitting his native strand?
VALGERD. You have had three winters to make your farewell.
GUNLOED. You speak truly--three winters! For here never came a
summer!
VALGERD. When the floating ice melts, then shall spring be here.
GUNLOED. The Northern Lights melt no ice.
VALGERD. Nor your tears.
GUNLOED. You never saw me weep.
VALGERD. But I have heard you. As long as you do that, you are a
child.
GUNLOED. I am not a child.
VALGERD. If you would be a woman, suffer in silence.
GUNLOED. I'll cast sorrow from me, mother.
VALGERD. No, no--bury it, as your deepest treasure. The seed must
not lie on top of the earth if it would sprout and ripen. You have
a deep sorrow. It should bear great gladness--and great peace.
GUNLOED [After a pause]. I shall forget.
VALGERD. Everything?
GUNLOED. I shall try.
VALGERD. Can you forget your father's hardness?
GUNLOED. That I have forgotten.
VALGERD. Can you forget that there was a time when your
fore-fathers' dwelling stood on Broevikens' strand? Where the south
wind sang in the oak wood when the ice-bound seas ran free--where
the hemlocks gave forth their fragrance and the finches twittered
among the linden trees--and Balder, the God of spring and joy,
lulled you to sleep on the green meadows? Can you forget all this,
while you listen to the sea gulls' plaints on these bare rocks and
cliffs, and the cold storms out of the north howl through the
stunted birches?
GUNLOED.
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