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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

"Plays: the Father; Countess Julie; the Outlaw; the Stronger"

Put on your cloak--the wind is
sharp.
VALGERD [Disconcerted, takes down torch and closes window-hole.]
Welcome, Orm.
ORM. Thanks.
VALGERD. How is it with you, Orm?
ORM. Tolerable enough---when one gets near the big logs.
VALGERD [Irritated]. How went the journey I mean?
ORM. That is a long saga.
VALGERD. Make it short.
ORM. Well, as you know, we fared to Norway, seeking men and timber.
VALGERD. Orm!
ORM. Valgerd!
VALGERD. You have not spoken a word of the Erl.
ORM. Have you asked a word about your mate?
VALGERD. Where is he? Lives he?
ORM. I know not.
VALGERD. You know not!--you, his foster brother? Where did you part
from him?
ORM. Far out in the gulf. It was merry out there you may believe.
You should have seen him swimming with my lyre in his hand. The
sea-weed was so tangled in his beard and hair that one was tempted
to believe that it was Neptune himself. Just then came a wave as
big as a house--
VALGERD. And then?
ORM. And then--I saw my lyre no more.
VALGERD. Orm! You jest while your lord and brother is perhaps
perishing out there! I command you--go at once and seek him! Do you
hear?
ORM. Why, what is the matter? You were never before so concerned
about your mate! You might find time to give me a drink of ale
before I go.
VALGERD. Warm your knees by the hearth. I shall go--and defy wind
and storm.
ORM. [Taking her hounds]. Woman, woman--after all, you are a woman!
VALGERD [Angry].


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