Part 6

BIARTEY. He is a man. Why will his manhood urge him to be dead? We walk about the whole old land at night, We enter many dales and many halls: And everywhere is talk of Gunnar's greatness, His slayings and his fate outside the law. The last ship has not gone: why will he tarry?

ODDNY. He chose a ship, but men who rode with him Say that his horse threw him upon the shore, His face toward the Lithe and his own fields; As he arose he trembled at what he gazed on (Although those men saw nothing pass or meet them) And said.... What said he, girls?

ASTRID. "Fair is the Lithe: So fair I never thought it was so fair. Its corn is white, its meadows green after mowing. I will ride home again and never leave it."

ODDNY. 'Tis an unlikely tale: he never said it. No one could mind such things in such an hour. Plainly he saw his fetch come down the sands, And knew he need not seek another country And take that with him to walk upon the deck In night and storm.

GUDFINN. He he he! No man speaks thus.

JOFRID. No man, no man: he must be doomed somewhere.

BIARTEY. Doomed and fey, my sisters.... We are too old, Yet I'd not marvel if we outlasted him. Sisters, that is a fair fierce girl who spins.... My fair fierce girl, you could fight--but can you ride? Would you not shout to be riding in a storm? Ah ... h, girls learnt riding well when I was a girl, And foam rides on the breakers as I was taught.... My fair fierce girl, tell me your noble name.

ODDNY. My name is Oddny.

BIARTEY. Oddny, when you are old Would you not be proud to be no man's purse-string, But wild and wandering and friends with the earth? Wander with us and learn to be old yet living. We'd win fine food with you to beg for us.

STEINVOR. Despised, cast out, unclean, and loose men's night-bird.

ODDNY. When I am old I shall be some man's friend, And hold him when the darkness comes....

BIARTEY. And mumble by the fire and blink.... Good Oddny, let me spin for you awhile, That Gunnar's house may profit by his guesting: Come, trust me with your distaff....

ODDNY. Are there spells Wrought on a distaff?

STEINVOR. Only by the Norns, And they'll not sit with human folk to-night.

ODDNY. Then you may spin all night for what I care; But let the yarn run clean from knots and snarls, Or I shall have the blame when you are gone.

BIARTEY, _taking the distaff._ Trust well the aged knowledge of my hands; Thin and thin do I spin, and the thread draws finer.

_She sings as she spins._

They go by three, And the moon shivers; The tired waves flee, The hidden rivers Also flee.

I take three strands; There is one for her, One for my hands, And one to stir For another's hands.

I twine them thinner, The dead wool doubts; The outer is inner, The core slips out....

_HALLGERD re-enters by the daïs door, holding a pair of shears._

HALLGERD. What are these women, Oddny? Who let them in?

BIARTEY, _who spins through all that follows._ Lady, the man of fame who is your man Gave us his peace to-night, and that of his house. We are blown beggars tramping about the land, Denied a home for our evil and vagrant hearts; We sought this shelter when the first dew soaked us, And should have perished by the giant hound But Gunnar fought it with his eyes and saved us. That is a strange hound, with a man's mind in it.

HALLGERD, _seating herself in the high-seat._ It is an Irish hound, from that strange soil Where men by day walk with unearthly eyes And cross the veils of the air, and are not men But fierce abstractions eating their own hearts Impatiently and seeing too much to be joyful.... If Gunnar welcomed ye, ye may remain.

BIARTEY. She is a fair free lady, is she not? But that was to be looked for in a high one Who counts among her fathers the bright Sigurd, The bane of Fafnir the Worm, the end of the god-kings; Among her mothers Brynhild, the lass of Odin, The maddener of swords, the night-clouds' rider. She has kept sweet that father's lore of bird-speech, She wears that mother's power to cheat a god. Sisters, she does well to be proud....

JOFRID AND GUDFINN. Ay, Well....

HALLGERD, _shaping the tissue with her shears._ I need no witch to tell I am of rare seed, Nor measure my pride nor praise it. Do I not know? Old women, ye are welcomed: sit with us, And while we stitch tell us what gossip runs-- But if strife might be warmed by spreading it.

BIARTEY. Lady, we are hungered; we were lost All night among the mountains of the East; Clouds of the cliffs come down my eyes again.... I pray you let some thrall bring us to food.

HALLGERD. Ye get nought here. The supper is long over; The women shall not let ye know the food-house, Or ye'll be thieving in the night. Ye are idle, Ye suck a man's house bare and seek another. 'Tis bed-time; get to sleep--that stills much hunger.

BIARTEY. Now it is easy to be seeing what spoils you. You were not grasping or ought but over warm When Sigmund, Gunnar's kinsman, guested here. You followed him, you were too kind with him, You lavished Gunnar's treasure and gear on him To draw him on, and did not call that thieving. Ay, Sigmund took your feuds on him and died As Gunnar shall. Men have much harm by you.

HALLGERD. Now have I gashed the golden cloth awry: 'Tis ended--a ruin of clouts--the worth of the gift-- Bridal dish-clouts--nay, a bundle of flame. I'll burn it to a breath of its old queen's ashes: Fire, O fire, drink up....

_She throws the shreds of the veil on the glowing embers: they waft to ashes with a brief high flare. She goes to JOFRID._

There's one of you That holds her head in a bird's sideways fashion: I know that reach o' the chin.... What's under thy hair?--

_She fixes JOFRID with her knee, and lifts her hair._

Pfui, 'tis not hair, but sopped and rotting moss-- A thief, a thief indeed.... And twice a thief.... She has no ears. Keep thy hooked fingers still While thou art here, for if I miss a mouthful Thou shalt miss all thy nose. Get up, get up; I'll lodge ye with the mares....

JOFRID, _starting up._ Three men, three men, Three men have wived you, and for all you gave them Paid with three blows upon a cheek once kissed-- To every man a blow--and the last blow All the land knows was won by thieving food.... Yea, Gunnar is ended by the theft and the thief. Is it not told that when you first grew tall, A false rare girl, Hrut your own kinsman said "I know not whence thief's eyes entered our blood." You have more ears, yet are you not my sister? Our evil vagrant heart is deeper in you.

HALLGERD, _snatching the distaff from Biartey._ Out and be gone, be gone. Lie with the mountains, Smother among the thunder; stale dew mould you. Outstrip the hound, or he shall so embrace you....

BIARTEY. Now is all done ... all done ... and all your deed! She broke the thread, and it shall not join again. Spindle, spindle, the coiling weft shall dwindle; Leap on the fire and burn, for all is done....

_She casts the spindle upon the fire, and stretches her hands toward it._

HALLGERD, _attacking them with the distaff._ Into the night.... Dissolve....

BIARTEY, _as the three rush toward the door._ Sisters, away: Leave the woman to her smouldering beauty, Leave the fire that's kinder than the woman, Leave the roof-tree ere it falls. It falls.

_GUDFINN joins her. Each time Hallgerd flags they turn as they chant, and point at her._

We shall cry no more in the high rock-places, We are gone from the night, the winds and the clouds are empty: Soon the man in the West shall receive our message.

_JOFRID'S voice joins the other voices._

Men reject us, yet their house is unstable.... The slayers' hands are warm--the sound of their riding Reached us down the ages, ever approaching.

HALLGERD, _at the same time, her voice high over theirs._ Pack, ye rag-heaps--or I'll unravel you.

THE THREE, _continuously._ House that spurns us, woe shall come upon you: Death shall hollow you. Now we curse the woman-- May all the woes smite her till she can feel them. Shall we not roost in her bower yet? Woe! Woe!

_The distaff breaks, and Hallgerd drives them out with her hands. Their voices continue for a moment outside, dying away._

Call to the owl-friends.... Woe! Woe! Woe!

ASTRID. Whence came these mounds of dread to haunt the night? It doubles this disquiet to have them near us.

ODDNY. They must be witches--and it was my distaff-- Will fire eat through me....

STEINVOR. Or the Norns themselves.

HALLGERD. Or bad old women used to govern by fear. To bed, to bed--we are all up too late.

STEINVOR, _as she turns with_ ASTRID _and_ ODDNY _to the daïs._ If beds are made for sleep we might sit long. _They go out by the daïs door._

GUNNAR, _as he enters hastily from the left._ Where are those women? There's some secret in them: I have heard such others crying down to them.

HALLGERD. They turned foul-mouthed, they beckoned evil toward us-- I drove them forth a breath ago.

GUNNAR. Forth? Whence?

HALLGERD. By the great door: they cried about the night.

_RANNVEIG follows GUNNAR in._

GUNNAR. Nay but I entered there and passed them not. Mother, where are the women?

RANNVEIG. I saw none come.

GUNNAR. They have not come, they have gone.

RANNVEIG. I crossed the yard, Hearing a noise, but a big bird dropped past, Beating my eyes; and then the yard was clear. _The deep baying of the hound is heard again._

GUNNAR. They must be spies: yonder is news of them. The wise hound knew them, and knew them again. _The baying is succeeded by one wild howl._ Nay, nay! Men treat thee sorely, Samm my fosterling: Even by death thou warnest--but it is meant That our two deaths will not be far apart.

RANNVEIG. Think you that men are yonder?

GUNNAR. Men are yonder.

RANNVEIG. My son, my son, get on the rattling war-woof, The old grey shift of Odin, the hide of steel. Handle the snake with edges, the fang of the rings.

GUNNAR, _going to the weapons by the high-seat._ There are not enough moments to get under That heavy fleece: an iron hat must serve....

HALLGERD. O brave! O brave!--he'll dare them with no shield.

GUNNAR, _lifting down the great bill from the wall._ Let me but reach this haft, I shall get hold Of steel enough to fence me all about.

_He shakes the bill above his head: a deep resonant humming follows. The daïs door is thrown open, and ODDNY, ASTRID, and STEINVOR stream through in their night-clothes._

STEINVOR. The bill!

ODDNY. The bill is singing!

ASTRID. The bill sings!

GUNNAR, _shaking the bill again._ Ay, brain-biter, waken ... Awake and whisper Out of the throat of dread thy one brief burden. Blind art thou, and thy kiss will do no choosing: Worn art thou to a hair's grey edge, a nothing That slips through all it finds, seeking more nothing. There is a time, brain-biter, a time that comes When there shall be much quietness for thee: Men will be still about thee. I shall know. It is not yet: the wind shall hiss at thee first. Ahui! Leap up, brain-biter; sing again. Sing! Sing thy verse of anger and feel my hands.

RANNVEIG. Stand thou, my Gunnar, in the porch to meet them, And the great door shall keep thy back for thee.

GUNNAR. I had a brother there. Brother, where are you....

HALLGERD. Nay nay. Get thou, my Gunnar, to the loft, Stand at the casement, watch them how they come. Arrows maybe could drop on them from there.

RANNVEIG. 'Tis good: the woman's cunning for once is faithful.

GUNNAR, _turning again to the weapons._ 'Tis good, for now I hear a foot that stumbles Along the stable-roof against the hall. My bow--where is my bow? Here with its arrows.... Go in again, you women on the daïs, And listen at the casement of the bower For men who cross the yard, and for their words.

ASTRID. O, Gunnar, we shall serve you.

_ASTRID, ODDNY, and STEINVOR go out by the daïs door._

RANNVEIG. Hallgerd, come; We must shut fast the door, bar the great door, Or they'll be in on us and murder him.

HALLGERD. Not I: I'd rather set the door wide open And watch my Gunnar kindling at the peril, Keeping them back--shaming men for ever Who could not enter at a gaping door.

RANNVEIG. Bar the great door, I say, or I will bar it-- Door of the house you rule.... Son, son, command it.

GUNNAR, _as he ascends to the loft._ O, spendthrift fire, do you waft up again? Hallgerd, what riot of ruinous chance will sate you?... Let the door stand, my mother: it is her way. _He looks out of the casement._ Here's a red kirtle on the lower roof. _He thrusts with the bill through the casement._

A MAN'S VOICE, _far off._ Is Gunnar within?

_THORGRIM THE EASTERLING'S VOICE, near the casement._

Find that out for yourselves: I am only sure his bill is yet within. _A noise of falling is heard._

GUNNAR. The Easterling from Sandgil might be dying-- He has gone down the roof, yet no feet helped him.

_A shouting of many men is heard: GUNNAR starts back from the casement as several arrows fly in._

Now there are black flies biting before a storm. I see men gathering beneath the cart-shed: Gizur the White and Geir the priest are there, And a lean whispering shape that should be Mord. I have a sting for some one-- _He looses an arrow: a distant cry follows._ Valgard's voice.... A shaft of theirs is lying on the roof: I'll send it back, for if it should take root A hurt from their own spent and worthless weapon Would put a scorn upon their tale for ever. _He leans out for the arrow._

RANNVEIG. Do not, my son: rouse them not up again When they are slackening in their attack.

HALLGERD. Shoot, shoot it out, and I'll come up to mock them.

GUNNAR, _loosing the arrow._ Hoia! Swerve down upon them, little hawk. _A shout follows._ Now they run all together round one man: Now they murmur....

A VOICE. Close in, lift bows again: He has no shafts, for this is one of ours. _Arrows fly in at the casement._

GUNNAR. Wife, here is something in my arm at last: The head is twisted--I must cut it clear.

_STEINVOR throws open the daïs door and rushes through with a high shriek._

STEINVOR. Woman, let us out--help us out-- The burning comes--they are calling out for fire.

_She shrieks again. ODDNY and ASTRID, who have come behind her, muffle her head in a kirtle and lift her._

ASTRID, _turning as they bear her out._ Fire suffuses only her cloudy brain: The flare she walks in is on the other side Of her shot eyes. We heard a passionate voice, A shrill unwomanish voice that must be Mord, With "Let us burn him--burn him house and all." And then a grave and trembling voice replied "Although my life hung on it, it shall not be." Again the cunning fanatic voice went on "I say the house must burn above his head." And the unlifted voice "Why wilt thou speak Of what none wishes: it shall never be."

_ASTRID and ODDNY disappear with STEINVOR._

GUNNAR. To fight with honest men is worth much friendship: I'll strive with them again.

_He lifts his bow and loosens arrows at intervals while HALLGERD and RANNVEIG speak._

_HALLGERD, in an undertone to RANNVEIG, looking out meanwhile to the left._

Mother, come here-- Come here and hearken. Is there not a foot, A stealthy step, a fumbling on the latch Of the great door? They come, they come, old mother: Are you not blithe and thirsty, knowing they come And cannot be held back? Watch and be secret, To feel things pass that cannot be undone.

RANNVEIG. It is the latch. Cry out, cry out for Gunnar, And bring him from the loft.

HALLGERD. O, never: For then they'd swarm upon him from the roof. Leave him up there and he can bay both armies, While the whole dance goes merrily before us And we can warm our hearts at such a flare.

_RANNVEIG, turning both ways, while HALLGERD watches her gleefully._

Gunnar, my son, my son! What shall I do....

_ORMILD enters from the left, white and with her hand to her side, and walking as if she is sick._

HALLGERD. Bah--here's a bleached assault....

RANNVEIG. O, lonesome thing, To be forgot and left in such a night. What is there now--are terrors surging still?

ORMILD. I know not what has gone: when the men came I hid in the far cowhouse. I think I swooned.... And then I followed the shadow. Who is dead?

RANNVEIG. Go to the bower: the women will care for you.

_ORMILD totters up the hall from pillar to pillar._

ASTRID, _entering by the daïs door._ Now they have found the weather-ropes and lashed them Over the carven ends of the beams outside: They bear on them, they tighten them with levers, And soon they'll tear the high roof off the hall.

GUNNAR. Get back and bolt the women into the bower.

_ASTRID takes ORMILD, who has just reached her, and goes out with her by the daïs door, which closes after them._

Hallgerd, go in: I shall be here thereafter.

HALLGERD. I will not stir. Your mother had best go in.

RANNVEIG. How shall I stir?

VOICES, _outside and gathering volume._ Ai ... Ai ... Reach harder ... Ai ...

GUNNAR. Stand clear, stand clear--it moves.

THE VOICES. It moves ... Ai, ai ...

_The whole roof slides down rumblingly, disappearing with a crash behind the wall of the house. All is dark above. Fine snow sifts down now and then to the end of the play._

GUNNAR, _handling his bow._ The wind has changed: 'tis coming on to snow. The harvesters will hurry in to-morrow.

THORBRAND THORLEIKSSON _appears above the wall-top a little past_ GUNNAR, _and, reaching noiselessly with a sword, cuts_ GUNNAR'S _bowstring._

GUNNAR, _dropping the bow and seizing his bill._ Ay, Thorbrand, is it thou? That's a rare blade, To shear through hemp and gut.... Let your wife have it For snipping needle-yarn; or try it again.

THORBRAND, _raising his sword._ I must be getting back ere the snow thickens: So here's my message to the end--or farther. Gunnar, this night it is time to start your journey And get you out of Iceland....

GUNNAR, _thrusting at_ THORBRAND _with the bill._ I think it is: So you shall go before me in the dark. Wait for me when you find a quiet shelter.

THORBRAND _sinks backward from the wall and is heard to fall farther. Immediately_ ASBRAND THORLEIKSSON _starts up in his place._

ASBRAND, _striking repeatedly with a sword._ O, down, down, down!

GUNNAR, _parrying the blows with the bill._ Ay, Asbrand, thou as well? Thy brother Thorbrand was up here but now: He has gone back the other way, maybe-- Be hasty, or you'll not come up with him.

_He thrusts with the bill: ASBRAND lifts a shield before the blow._

Here's the first shield that I have seen to-night.

_The bill pierces the shield: ASBRAND disappears and is heard to fall. GUNNAR turns from the casement._

Hallgerd, my harp that had but one long string, But one low song, but one brief wingy flight, Is voiceless, for my bowstring is cut off. Sever two locks of hair for my sake now, Spoil those bright coils of power, give me your hair, And with my mother twist those locks together Into a bowstring for me. Fierce small head, Thy stinging tresses shall scourge men forth by me.

HALLGERD. Does ought lie on it?

GUNNAR. Nought but my life lies on it; For they will never dare to close on me If I can keep my bow bended and singing.

HALLGERD, _tossing back her hair._ Then now I call to your mind that bygone blow You gave my face; and never a whit do I care If you hold out a long time or a short.

GUNNAR. Every man who has trod a war-ship's deck, And borne a weapon of pride, has a proud heart And asks not twice for any little thing. Hallgerd, I'll ask no more from you, no more.

RANNVEIG, _tearing off her wimple._ She will not mar her honour of widowhood. O, widows' manes are priceless.... Off, mean wimple-- I am a finished widow, why do you hide me? Son, son who knew my bosom before hers, Look down and curse for an unreverend thing An old bald woman who is no use at last. These bleachy threads, these tufts of death's first combing, And loosening heart-strings twisted up together Would not make half a bowstring. Son, forgive me....

GUNNAR. A grasping woman's gold upon her head Is made for hoarding, like all other gold: A spendthrift woman's gold upon her head Is made for spending on herself. Let be-- She goes her heart's way, and I go to earth.

AUNUND'S _head rises above the wall near_ GUNNAR.

What, are you there?

AUNUND. Yes, Gunnar, we are here.

GUNNAR, _thrusting with the bill._ Then bide you there.

AUNUND'S _head sinks:_ THORGEIR'S _rises in the same place._

How many heads have you?

THORGEIR. But half as many as the feet we grow on.

GUNNAR. And I've not yet used up (_thrusting again_) all my hands.

_As he thrusts another man rises a little farther back, and leaps past him into the loft. Others follow, and GUNNAR is soon surrounded by many armed men, so that only the rising and falling of his bill is seen._

The threshing-floor is full.... Up, up, brain-biter! We work too late to-night--up, open the husks.

O, smite and pulse On their anvil heads: The smithy is full, There are shoes to be made For the hoofs of the steeds Of the Valkyr girls....

FIRST MAN. Hack through the shaft....

SECOND MAN. Receive the blade In the breast of a shield, And wrench it round....

GUNNAR. For the hoofs of the steeds Of the Valkyr girls Who race up the night To be first at our feast, First in the play With immortal spears In deadly holes....

THIRD MAN. Try at his back....

MANY VOICES, _shouting in confusion._

Have him down.... Heels on the bill.... Ahui, ahui....

_The bill does not rise._

HROALD, _with the breaking voice of a young man, high over all._ Father.... It is my blow.... It is I who kill him....

_The crowd parts, suddenly silent, showing GUNNAR fallen._

_RANNVEIG covers her face with her hands._

HALLGERD, _laughing as she leans forward and holds her breasts in her hands._ O, clear sweet laughter of my heart, flow out! It is so mighty and beautiful and blithe To watch a man dying--to hover and watch.

RANNVEIG. Cease: are you not immortal in shame already?