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 ...