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?
Hallgerd.
Heroes, what deeds ye compass, what great deeds—
One man has held ye from an open door:
Heroes, heroes, are ye undefeated?
Gizur, an old white-bearded man, to the other riders.
We have laid low to earth a mighty chief:
We have laboured harder than on greater deeds,
And maybe won remembrance by the deeds
Of Gunnar when no deed of ours should live;
For this defence of his shall outlast kingdoms
And gather him fame till there are no more men.
Mord.
Come down and splinter those old birds his gods
That perch upon the carven high-seat pillars;
Wreck every place his shadow fell upon,
Rive out his gear, drive off his forfeit beasts.
Second Man.
It shall not be.
Many Men. Never.
Gizur. We'll never do it:
Let no man lift a blade or finger a clout—
Is not this Gunnar, Gunnar, whom we have slain?
Home, home, before the dawn shows all our deed.
The riders go down quickly over the wall-top, and disappear.
Hallgerd.
Now I shall close his nostrils and his eyes,
And thereby take his blood-feud into my hands.
Rannveig.
If you do stir I'll choke you with your hair.
I will not let your murderous mind be near him
When he no more can choose and does not know.
Hallgerd.
His wife I was, and yet he never judged me:
He did not set your motherhood between us.
Let me alone—I stand here for my sons.
Rannveig.
The wolf, the carrion bird, and the fair woman
Hurry upon a corpse, as if they think
That all is left for them the grey gods need not.
She twines her hands in Hallgerd's hair and draws her down to the floor.
O, I will comb your hair with bones and thumbs,
Array these locks in my right widow's way,
And deck you like the bed-mate of the dead.
Lie down upon the earth as Gunnar lies,
Or I can never match him in your looks
And whiten you and make your heart as cold.
Hallgerd.
Mother, what will you do? Unloose me now—
Your eyes would not look so at me alone.
Rannveig.
Be still, my daughter....
Hallgerd. And then?
Rannveig. Ah, do not fear—
I see a peril nigh and all its blitheness.
Order your limbs—stretch out your length of beauty,
Let down your hands and close those deepening eyes,
Or you can never stiffen as you should.
A murdered man should have a murdered wife
When all his fate is treasured in her mouth.
This wifely hair-pin will be sharp enough.
Hallgerd, starting up as Rannveig half loosens her to take a hair-pin from her own head.
She is mad, mad.... O, the bower is barred—
Hallgerd, come out, let mountains cover you....
She rushes out to the left.
Rannveig, following her.
The night take you indeed....