can dig up roots to still the worst hunger, and we can go to the lake for fish.

Kari. The snowstorm may last four or five days yet, and by that time we shall be dead from hunger.

Halla. How long shall you be gone?

Kari. Two days at the most.

Halla (goes to him and touches his shoulder). I beg you to stay for my sake! We have lived together for sixteen years, and now let us also die together.

Kari. I know your way of hiding your will. Now it is your will that I should stay, but this time you are foiled.

Halla. You cared for me when I fled with you to the hills. You told me there was no one like me in all the world. You carried me across the streams, until I grew strong enough to ford them myself. You risked your life to get the things you knew I liked. Have you forgotten?

Kari. I have forgotten nothing.

Halla. And all the nights we slept with the heavens above us! Was it not blessed to feel the morning breeze over your face and to open your eyes and look into the blue sky? Then you kissed me and said that you loved me.

Kari. You shall not stop me from going.

Halla (turns away from him). I know why I have this fear of being alone. It is because I am so far away from every living thing, and there's no sun and no stream here. (Turns toward him.) If we feel that we must die, you can close the smoke-hole, and I will fill the hut with smoke. We shall lie down side by side. (Touches his hand.) I will take your hand, and we shall dream that we are going out into a sand-storm together.

Kari (harshly). Now leave me in peace.

Halla (in helpless fear). I will tell you the truth. I don't

dare to be alone.

Kari. Are you afraid of the dark?

Halla. When you are gone, I know I shall begin to listen. I know what I shall hear.

Kari. What do you hear?

Halla. I hear the sound of a great heavy waterfall. I hear the screams of my child. You must not leave me.

Kari (turns away). You spare me nothing; you make my going as hard as can be.

Halla. I forbid you to go! It's inhuman to leave me here alone. If you ever come back, you will find me a mad beast.

Kari. Now you shall keep still. I will not listen to your whining any longer.

Halla. You are like all the rest. When your will is set, you have no heart. (Sits down silently.)

Kari (fastens his foot-gear; ties a rope around his waist). When I draw it tight enough, I don't feel that I am hungry. (Puts on a coat of heavy fur.) You must watch the fire and not let it go out. I'll bring you some more faggots from the wood-shed.

Halla (stands up; her voice is husky). Better kill me before you go. (Bares her breast.) Stab me with your knife-right here! I won't scream. (Shuts her eyes.) I shall think I am nursing my child, and the little teeth are biting my breast. Kari. Have you gone mad?

Halla. You haven't the heart, but you have the heart to let me sit here all alone. A wretched little train-oil lamp you would put out before you went; you could not bear to let it burn over nothing. (Sits down.)

Kari (stands silent a long time). I have been guilty of

many a bad deed, but so far as I know, I have never been cruel. Nor will I be cruel to you. (Takes off his coat.) Then we shall wait together as you wish. Does that make you feel happier?

Halla. I don't know. I can feel neither joy nor grief any longer. I think I would rather be alone.

Kari. You don't mean that.

Halla. If you think it wiser to go, you must do so. Kari. I thought it would make you glad if I stayed. Halla (rising). If you had taken me in your arms and told me that you loved me with all my wretchedness and all my homeliness, that would have made me glad; but you did not.

Kari. Yet you know it was for your sake I stayed.

Halla. Are you so sure of that? Perhaps you were afraid that you might be guilty of a wrong deed. I think you had in mind the Great Judge rather than me.

Kari. I have once been judged by men; that is why I so often think of the last judgment.

Halla. I will have no talk of conscience between you and me. Be yourself with me, whether you are good or bad. After all, you don't know if the Great Judge looks kindly at what you call good deeds. Look at me! Look at me! You could not be more cruel to your worst enemy. Why was I given this hunger and not the food to still it? I have never wished to be born. I would rather be anything else than a human being. I would rather be the sand, whirling aimlessly over yonder waste. If there is a God, He must be cruel-but there is no God.

Kari. You are only lashing yourself up. You ought rather to humble yourself and pray God to help both you and me. Without Him we are but dust and ashes.

Halla. I want no mercy any more, but you can go on calling for help. (Mockingly.) I am sure He will hear you, if He is not busy breaking up the glaciers or cleaning out the gorge of a volcano to make it belch up more fire.

Kari. Don't say another word! We are wretched enough without your calling down new curses upon us.

Halla. I have but one sole and only wish before I die, and that is to do some unheard-of cruel deed. I should like to be a snowslide. I would come in the dead of night. It would be a joy to see the people half naked running for their lives—chaste old maids with gouty hips, and smug peasant women with bellies bobbing with fat. (Sits down, breaks into a paroxysm of laughter, wild and continued.)

Kari. You have become a monster. I am afraid of you -afraid of the only human being I care for. (Walks over to a corner, where he finds his old Bible. Sits down, turning the pages with trembling hands; reads.) " And it came to pass that as he was praying in a certain place, when he ceased one of his disciples said unto him, Lord, teach us to pray as John also taught his disciples. And he said unto them, When ye pray, say, Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so in earth. Give us day by day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins: for we also forgive every one that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory for ever. Amen.”

(They sit silent a while. Halla, leaning her elbows on her knees, her face buried in her hands, cries softly. Kari rises, stands silent for a moment, then goes to her.)

Kari. You must not lose heart. When things are at the

worst, they will mend. Perhaps the storm will quiet down during the night.

you ill?

Halla. It is so hard. (Bursts into sobs.) Kari (kneeling). But, dearest Halla! Are Halla (warding him off). Let me alone. Kari (rises slowly). You were always so strong. I thought nothing could make you lose heart.

Halla (looks up. She has stopped crying; her voice is calm and cold). You don't love me any more. You have never loved me.

Kari. Is that what you are crying for?

Halla. Before when you wanted to leave me, I besought you by all the memories I thought were dear to you. That did not touch you. I humbled myself so low that I would have thanked you just for a little pity— that might have been an afterglow of your love, but you had no pity. You stayed only because you were anxious about your own soul.

Kari. I stayed also for your sake.

Halla. You know better. You would rather die than have your God find you guilty of an evil deed. You counted the saving of your soul higher than your life, but I have no God, and I have never been able to tell my soul from my love. If you had loved me, you would have understood that I was pleading for my soul. You would have heard it in my voice, but you did not hear it.

Kari. You forget that it was to save our lives I wanted to go.

Halla (rises. Her eyes are large and burning). Why did you not take me with you?

Kari. If I had gone alone, I might have come back alive. The two of us would have been sure to perish.