And even thus I stood eighteen years ago,--thus looked out upon the sea,
blue beneath the rising sun. The fresh breezes of morning seemed wafted
to me from a high future; through the sky's light veil a vision of
strange lands was mine; in the glow of the morning sun, wealth and honor
shone upon me; and to all this, the white sails of the Crusaders should
swiftly bear me.

Farewell, dreams of my youth! Farewell, my sweet country! Ah, to what
sorrow thou hast brought me forth! But now it will soon be over. [_He
descends_.]

If these ships should sail up to me this very night bearing the
fulfillment of all my dreams! Could any one of them be now in truth
mine,--or may a tree bear fruit twice in one year?

I give way to make room for some better man. But be thou gracious to me,
and let death be mine with these feelings in my heart, for strength to
be faithful might not long be vouchsafed me.

"Thou shalt die to-morrow!" How sure a father-confessor is that word!
Now for the first time I speak truth to myself.

_Ivar_ [_climbing' over a rock_]--Yes, here he is. [_Gives his hand to
the nun._]

_The Nun_ [_without seeing_]--Sigurd! [_Mounts up._] Yes, there he is!

_Sigurd_--Mother!

_The Nun_--My child, found once more! [_They remain long clasped in each