Modern Icelandic Plays Part 33

I think I should.

_Kari._

We should have to take care not to be too greedy. If we could only hold back the first two days, we might eat as much as we wanted afterward.

(_His mouth waters; he swallows saliva._) You have seen a butchered sheep hung up to dry in the wind; its flesh is as tender as a young girl's. I feel as though I could fondle it; I could bite it.

_Halla._

We have promised each other not to speak of food.

_Kari._

And how do you think the heart would taste smoking hot from the fire?

I could swallow it in one mouthful. I should feel as if I had eaten, if I could only smell warm meat.

_Halla._

You will make me sick if you don't stop talking about food. Don't you think I am just as hungry as you are? And I hold my peace.

_Kari._

Yes, you hold your peace. (_Puts down the knife._) If I did not see your eyes, I should think you were dead, and yet you are human and living like myself. Are you not? (_Halla is silent._) Or perhaps you are a heathen image? Must I kneel down before you and pray for fine weather?

Shall I build a fire before you and stain your feet with blood? What do you want?

_Halla._

I want to be left in peace.

_Kari._

You ought to be a tree, then you could wither in peace. Why don't you cry out like every living thing that suffers. You don't know how your calmness racks me. Even the trees cry and moan in the autumn gales-- they wail!

_Halla._

I should wail too, if there was any one that could hear me.

_Kari._

I don't care whether anybody hears my screams or not. I'll scream; I'll yell. (_Yells._)

_Halla (stands up)._

Are you not ashamed of yourself?

_Kari (in a weak voice)._

This cannot last. I should have gone long ago. I ought to have gone at once, the first day the food gave out, but you thought every day that the morrow would bring fine weather. I know you said it to soothe me, but it was not right.

_Halla._

It was no use going to certain death.

_Kari._

I should never be afraid of getting lost. If the snowstorm is ever so dark, I find my way. (_Raises his hand._) I know where I am by trend of the wind.

_Halla._

If you were so sure of yourself, you ought indeed to have gone long ago.

_Kari (hardening)._

You say that?

_Halla._

Yes, I say that.

_Kari._

Take care! You have tempted me to stay day after day. Your believing and hoping palsied my will. You wormed your own fear into my heart and broke my courage. If we both die of hunger, the fault is yours, and yours alone.

_Halla._

Is it my fault?

_Kari._

You have lived in the hills for sixteen years, and you don't know them more than a child does. Perhaps you think the snowstorm will have pity?

Won't you open the door and bid the snowstorm be still? Why don't you?

_Halla._

You say that it is my fault if we starve to death. Who was it that stole?

_Kari (stands for a moment speechless)._

You are homely. I have never before seen how homely you are. Your face makes me think of the head of a dead horse. (_Reaches out his arms._) May I feel of your hair if it doesn't all come out?

_Halla._

Don't touch me!

_Kari_ (_lets his arms fall. An expression of sadness comes into his voice_). I thought you were the only one who understood that I could not help what I did. Neither could you help what you have done, and yet you are bringing my misdeeds up against me.

_Halla._

Never before have I upbraided you for this, but you put the whole blame on me.