SIGURD. But Egil, thy son—they are slaying him!
HIORDIS. Let him die—my shame dies with him!
SIGURD. And Gunnar—they are taking thy husband's life!
HIORDIS. What care I! A better husband shall I follow home this night! Ay, Sigurd, so must it be; here on this earth is no happiness for me. The White God is coming northward; him will I not meet; the old gods are strong no longer;—they sleep, they sit half shadow- high;—with them will we strive! Out of this life, Sigurd; I will enthrone thee king in heaven, and I will sit at thy side. (The storm bursts wildly.) Hark, hark, here comes our company! Canst see the black steeds galloping?—one is for me and one for thee. (Draws the arrow to her ear and shoots.) Away, then, on thy last ride home!
SIGURD. Well aimed, Hiordis!
(He falls.)
HIORDIS (jubilant, rushes up to him). Sigurd, my brother,—now artthou mine at last!
SIGURD. Now less than ever. Here our ways part; for I am aChristian man.
HIORDIS (appalled). Thou——! Ha, no, no!
SIGURD. The White God is mine; King AEthelstan taught me to know him; it is to him I go.
HIORDIS (in despair). And I——! (Drops her bow.) Woe! woe!
SIGURD. Heavy has my life been from the hour I tore thee out of my own heart and gave thee to Gunnar. Thanks, Hiordis;—now am I so light and free.
(Dies.)
HIORDIS (quietly). Dead! Then truly have I brought my soul to wreck! (The storm increases; she breaks forth wildly.) They come! I have bewitched them hither! No, no! I will not go with you! I will not ride without Sigurd! It avails not—they see me; they laugh and beckon to me; they spur their horses! (Rushes out to the edge of the cliff at the back.) They are upon me;—and no shelter no hiding- place! Ay, mayhap at the bottom of the sea!
(She casts herself over.)(ORNULF, DAGNY, GUNNAR, with EGIL, followed by SIGURD'S andORNULF'S men, gradually enter from the right.)
ORNULF (turning towards the grave-mound). Now may ye sleep in peace;for ye lie not unavenged.
DAGNY (entering). Father, father—I die of fear—all that bloodystrife—and the storm;—hark, hark!
GUNNAR (carrying EGIL). Peace, and shelter for my child!
ORNULF. Gunnar!
GUNNAR. Ay, Ornulf, my homestead is burnt and my men are slain; Iam in thy power; do with me what thou wilt!
ORNULF. That Sigurd must look to. But in, under roof! It is notsafe out here.
DAGNY. Ay, in, in! (Goes towards the boat-house, catches sight ofSIGURD'S body, and shrieks.) Sigurd, my husband!—They have slain him!(Throwing herself upon him.)
ORNULF (rushes up). Sigurd!
GUNNAR (sets EGIL down). Sigurd dead!
DAGNY (looks despairingly at the men, who surround the body). No, no, it is not so;—he must be alive! (Catches sight of the bow.) Ha, what is that? (Rises.)
ORNULF. Daughter, it is as first thou saidst—Sigurd is slain.
GUNNAR (as if seized by a sudden thought). And Hiordis!—Has Hiordisbeen here?
DAGNY (softly and with self-control). I know not; but this I know,that her bow has been here.
GUNNAR. Ay, I thought as much!
DAGNY. Hush, hush! (To herself.) So bitterly did she hate him!
GUNNAR (aside). She has slain him—the night before the combat; thenshe loved me after all.
(A thrill of dread runs through the whole group; ASGARDSREIEN—theride of the fallen heroes to Valhal—hurtles through the air.)
EGIL (in terror). Father! See, see!
GUNNAR. What is it?
EGIL. Up there—all the black horses——!
GUNNAR. It is the clouds that——
ORNULF. Nay, it is the dead men's home-faring.
EGIL (with a shriek). Mother is with them!
DAGNY. All good spirits!
GUNNAR. Child, what say'st thou?
EGIL. There—in front—on the black horse! Father, father!
(EGIL clings in terror to his father; a short pause; the storm passes over, the clouds part, the moon shines peacefully on the scene.)
GUNNAR (in quiet sorrow). Now is Hiordis surely dead!
ORNULF. So it must be, Gunnar;—and my vengeance was rather against her than thee. Dear has this meeting been to both of us;—— —— there is my hand; be there peace between us!
GUNNAR. Thanks, Ornulf! And now aboard; I sail with thee to Iceland.
ORNULF. Ay, to Iceland! Long will it be ere our forth-faring is forgotten.
Weapon wielding warrior's meeting, woeful by the northern seaboard, still shall live in song and saga while our stem endure in Iceland.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Vikings of Helgeland, by Henrik Ibsen