SOLNESS.

[Looks at her a moment.] Oh, indeed.

HILDA.

[As if breaking the thread of the conversation.] But what made you speak of these vikings, Mr. Solness?

SOLNESS.

Why, those fellows must have had robust consciences, if you like!

When they got home again, they could eat and drink, and be as happy as children. And the women, too! They often would not leave them on any account. Can you understand that, Hilda?

HILDA.

Those women I can understand exceedingly well.

SOLNESS.

Oho! Perhaps you could do the same yourself?

HILDA.

Why not?

SOLNESS.

Live--of your own free will--with a ruffian like that?

HILDA.

If it was a ruffian I had come to love--

SOLNESS.

Could you come to love a man like that?

HILDA.

Good heavens, you know very well one can't choose whom one is going to love.

SOLNESS.

[Looks meditatively at her.] Oh no, I suppose it is the troll within one that's responsible for that.

HILDA.

[Half-laughing.] And all those blessed devils, that you know so well--both the light-haired and the dark-haired ones.

SOLNESS.

[Quietly and warmly.] Then I hope with all my heart that the devils will choose carefully for you, Hilda.

HILDA.

For me they have chosen already--once and for all.

SOLNESS.

[Looks earnestly at her.] Hilda--you are like a wild bird of the woods.

HILDA.

Far from it. I don't hide myself away under the bushes.

SOLNESS.

No, no. There is rather something of the bird of prey in you.

HILDA.

That is nearer it--perhaps. [Very vehemently.] And why not a bird of prey? Why should not _I_ go a-hunting--I, as well as the rest? Carry off the prey I want--if only I can get my claws into it, and do with it as I will.

SOLNESS.

Hilda--do you know what you are?

HILDA.