Sølvi. I did not say that you were among the blind, and I am sure you are human enough not to force your daughter to marry against her will. It would not give you much joy to feel that you had made her unhappy for her whole life. think you do not know me well enough, you can find out all you wish from myself or from others.

If you

Sveinungi. I have no desire to learn anything about you, and you need not worry about my daughter. She will stay here with me.

Sølvi. Ljot is not a child any longer. She can decide for herself.

Sveinungi. Perhaps you think she can't live without you. (To Ljot.) If you care as much for him as he imagines, I will let you prove it. I will let you choose between him and me. If you choose him, then I have no daughter any more. Ljot. You don't mean to force me to such a choice! Sveinungi. Can you for a single moment be in doubt about whom to choose of us two-him or your old father? Ljot (kneeling). He is so unutterably dear to me.

Sveinungi. Get up! I don't want to see you lying like a dog at my feet.

Ljot (rising). Then you have no daughter.

Sølvi. I knew you would not fail me!

Jorunn. You had better give your consent, Sveinungi, since it cannot be otherwise. I cannot do without my only child.

Sveinungi (goes to Ljot). You are quite free, Ljot; I will not try to force you, but when you have thought it over, you will not leave your father and mother for the sake of a stranger. You are my only child, and you have been the light of my eyes since you were a little tot. When I came home from work I was never too tired to listen to what

you had to say. When you stroked my cheek it was like warm summer rain falling on my face. It will be lonely and empty here if you go. You cannot do it.

Ljot. Father, it is you who drive me away.

Sveinungi. You must listen to me. It has always been my intention that you should take the farm, and yesterday when you promised to marry Halfdan it seemed to me that all my wishes had been fulfilled. I was happy, and not only for your sake, but fully as much for the farm. Yet you would leave it now in the midst of misfortune. Look about you! Not a single building is standing. Can you let your old father sit here alone and forsaken? You might as well kill your father. And for whom should I build it up again if you are not to have it? It might as well be left to rot on the ground.

Ljot. You don't know, father, how much I care for him. I used to dream often that the mountains fell so that I could see the land beyond. To-night it seemed to me that the mountains fell.

Sveinungi. You are a wilful girl. (To Sølvi.) Could you think of taking over my farm, perhaps?

Sølvi. I could not

Sveinungi (interrupting). Do you two believe that you can cow me? (Pointing to the ruins.) There is a chest of drawers in there that Ljot keeps her clothes in. I will have nothing of hers in my house. (To Sølvi.) Will you go in there with me and bring it out?

Sølvi. I have nothing to do in there.

Sveinungi. You can go, Ljot. I can't bear to see you. (Goes over to the ruins; stands resting his hands on the walls.)

Sølvi (takes Ljot by the hand quietly). It is better that we leave your parents alone for a little while. [Exeunt.

Jorunn. You will have to give your consent, Sveinungi. You say yourself that all you have done has been for your daughter.

Sveinungi (turns to Jorunn, passing his earth-stained hand over his forehead). Did you understand what I was about to do? I wanted to get him into the ruins, and then I meant to give the post a shove.

Jorunn. God forgive you, man!

Sveinungi. Now we two must hold together. If we two are of one mind, I believe Ljot will give in. You must try to bring her to her senses.

Jorunn. They are very fond of each other. It warmed my heart to see them. It brought back the days of my own youth. I feel sure it would be a sin to try to part those two. Sveinungi. And you say that!

Jorunn. I think it was her fate to meet this man. She has always been a good and dutiful daughter.

Sveinungi. And it was you who went with me into the house! Have you turned against me—you too?

Jorunn (goes to him). You must not make the evil worse than it really is. The man looks as if he came of good people, and we have every reason to believe that he is a capable man. Even if we can't keep Ljot here, as we had hoped to do, she will certainly find time to come and see us once in a while, and we shall have that to look forward to.

Sveinungi. You think only of your daughter. It is nothing to you if my life-work is wasted. I could name you many farms that have been an ornament to the neighborhood as long as they have been handed down from man to man in the same family, but once they have passed into other hands, they have been tended in a makeshift way or left to go to rack and ruin altogether. You have seen those

old forlorn places, where the site is overgrown with grass, and the heather has been allowed to spread all over the yard. They remind me of graves. I tell you the truth: if such a fate were in store for my farm, I should wish for nothing but to be lying under the ruins myself.

Jorunn. Who says that your farm will not be rebuilt! You are not so old that you cannot do it without help. If I know you rightly, you always grow younger and stronger whenever there is anything that needs all your powers. In a year or two you will have the buildings up again every bit as fine as before.

Sveinungi. Spare your wheedling! What would be the use, even though I got the houses up again? When my days are over, everything will pass into the hands of careless people. And to think that this should happen only because of a fleeting fancy!

Jorunn. Did it seem to you like a passing whim when Ljot was begging for your consent? To me it seemed that she was pleading for her life.

Sveinungi. Even though this should mean more to my daughter than I think it does, that can alter nothing. It is my right to care for my home and keep it intact even after I am gone. When I am standing out in the hraun and looking toward home, the green yard looks like a spot of sunshine.

Jorunn. You take it for granted that none of your kin will ever reap the benefit of your work, but your daughter is not dead, though she has chosen another man than the one you wanted her to marry. Why should not those two have children? They are both strong and healthy, and there is, after all, a chance that some day one of their sons may take over the farm.

Sveinungi. I dare say a son of his would be the right man! Jorunn. A daughter's son is often more like his grandfather than his father. You know that as well as I.

Sveinungi. You are like a child playing with soap-bubbles. When one breaks, you are straightway ready to blow a new one. You can't make me play at that game. Even though they should have children, do I know how they would turn out? And you see it the same way yourself, but you are trying to fool me into giving my consent.

Jorunn. What do you gain even if you have your way and part those two? You may bring it about that your daughter becomes one of those sour old maids; for you cannot mean to drag her to the altar against her will.

Sveinungi. I didn't expect you to be against me. You wouldn't mind leaving the farm, if you could live with your daughter. You care more for her than for me.

Jorunn (her voice growing husky). Why do you say this, Sveinungi? I have never weighed my feelings for you two, nor do I intend to do it. I only know that where you are, there I stay too.

Sveinungi. Even this very earth upon my hand is dear to me. I care for it as the old house-leek would if she could feel. As for the young man whom you think so much of, I should have grudged him even to have the earth fall on his face. But you were not born here, as I was. You have not lived here as a child. You are an outsider.

Jorunn. Am I an outsider! I am grown too old to kneel before you as your daughter did, but if you send her away, I know that even though you build your house both larger and finer, the room will seem less light to me, and the smile will be gone from my face. Can you not spare me the sorrow of losing my only child?