“The tales are true, mother,” said Gudruda.

“Then hearken to me, girl.  Eric sprang from my womb, who of all living men is the best and first, as he is the bravest and most strong.  I have reared this Eric from a babe and I know his heart well.  Now I tell thee this, that, whatever Eric has done or left undone, naught of dishonour is on his hands.  Mayhap Swanhild has deceived him—­thou art a woman, and thou knowest well the arts which women have, and the strength that Freya gives them.  Well thou knowest, also, of what breed this Swanhild came; and perchance thou canst remember how she dealt with thee, and with what mind she looked on Eric.  Perchance thou canst remember how she plotted against thee and Eric—­ay, how she thrust thee from Goldfoss brink.  Say, then, wilt thou take her word?  Wilt thou take the word of this witch-daughter of a witch?  Wilt thou not think on Groa, her mother, and of Groa’s dealings with thy father, and with Unna my kinswoman?  As the mother is, so shall the daughter be.  Wilt thou cast Eric aside, and that unheard?”

“There is no more room for doubt, mother,” said Gudruda.  “I have proof of this:  that Eric has forsaken me.”

“So thou thinkest, child; but I tell thee that thou art wrong!  Eric loves thee now as he loved thee aforetime, and will love thee always.”

“Would that I could believe it!” said Gudruda.  “If I could believe that Eric still loved me—­ay, even though he had been faithless to me—­I would die ere I wed Ospakar!”

“Thou art foolish, Gudruda, and thou shalt rue thy folly bitterly.  I am outworn, and death draws near to me—­far from me now are hates and loves, hopes and fears; but I know this:  that woman is mad who, loving a man, weds where she loves not.  Shame shall be her portion and bitterness her bread.  Unhappy shall she live, and when she comes to die, but as a wilderness—­but as the desolate winter snow, shall be the record of her days!”

Now Gudruda wept aloud.  “What is done is done,” she cried; “the bridegroom sits within the hall—­the bride awaits him in the bower.  What is done is done—­I may hope no more to be saved from Ospakar.”

“What is done is done, yet it can be brought to nothing; but soon that shall be done which may never be undone!  Gudruda, fare thee well!  Never shall I listen to thy voice again.  I hold thee shameless, thou unfaithful woman, who in thy foolish jealousy art ready to sell thyself to the arms of one thou hatest!  Ho! carles; come hither.  Bear me hence!”

Now the men came in and took up Saevuna’s chair.  Gudruda watched them bear her forth.  Then suddenly she sprang from her seat and ran after her into the hall, weeping bitterly.

Now as Saevuna, Eric’s mother, was carried out she was met by Ospakar and Bjoern.

“Stay,” said Bjoern.  “What does this carline here?—­and why weeps Gudruda, my sister?”

The men halted.  “Who calls me ’carline’?” said Saevuna.  “Is the voice I hear the voice of Bjoern, Asmund’s son?”