sters sitting there, under the
oak. One of them was holding a golden egg in her hand, and just as she
tossed it into the air, he hurled his spear. It hit the egg, and broke
it--the giantesses fell down, dead.

KRISTRUN. Brave giantesses who dared to treat your sacred possession so
heedlessly!

RANNVEIG. One does not hear the footstep of vengeance. It came to them
unexpectedly.

KRISTRUN. How I wish my whole fate were held in this ball.

RANNVEIG. What would you do if it were?

KRISTRUN. I would lay it gently in the hand of the man I loved, saying:
Take it to a safe place!--and I would shut my eyes--while he were
searching for the place.

RANNVEIG. If my sister were here, perhaps she could read your fate
in the ball, both the past and the future... Who knows, but the whole
Universe may be mirrored in this one glass globe.

KRISTRUN. That's your favorite superstition. [Smiling surreptitiously.]
Tell me, Veiga--haven't you a life-egg? [Turns abruptly from her,
throwing the ball to Hadda.]

RANNVEIG [evasively]. I had one once....

KRISTRUN [catching the ball]. Then you haven't it any more?

RANNVEIG. No.

KRISTRUN. And you are still alive?

RANNVEIG. He who lived once in happiness dies twice. [Sees the sisters
throw the ball faster and faster.] Don't throw the ball so carelessly.

KRISTRUN. Be calm. The prince won't come. And even if he came--do you
think we have the same life-egg, I and Hrafnhild?

RANNVEIG. Now stop making fun of me! The ball may hit you in the
face--there now!--that's enough!--you nearly dazed my Hadda. It is
strange to like to do this. [Picks up the ball, and puts it back on the
velvet.]

KRISTRUN. Tell me, Veiga, perhaps your life-egg was a young man's
heart....

RANNVEIG. We won't talk about it any more.

KRISTRUN. And how did it break?

RANNVEIG [enraged]. At least I didn't play with it. _I_ never played
with anybody else's feelings.

KRISTRUN. There--there, don't snarl so, you're simply barking--bow, wow!

RANNVEIG [furious]. How many have you made fools of already?

KRISTRUN. Let me see--. [Counts on her fingers.] One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, [throws off one shoe, and counts
on her toes] eleven... twelve... thirteen--ah! here's a hole in my
stocking. Thirteen! Thirteen, Veiga dear! The unlucky number! Wonderful!
I'll never throw him over!

RANNVEIG. You're horribly flippant, Kristrun.

KRISTRUN [sits down at the small table, shades her f