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.