ACT SECOND.

Gunnar.

Curb thyself, Hiördis; it is unseemly to bear thee thus!

Dagny.

[Imploringly.] Stay, foster-sister—stay; I will appease my father.

Hiördis.

[Without listening to her.] Homewards, homewards! Who could have foretold me that I should wear out my life as a worthless leman? But if I am to bear this life of shame, ay, even for one day more, then must my husband do such a deed—such a deed as shall make his name more famous than all other names of men.

[Goes out to the right.

Gunnar.

[Softly.] Sigurd, promise me this, that we shall have speech together ere thou leave the land.

[Goes out with his men to the right.

[The storm has meanwhile ceased; the mid-day sun is now visible, like a red disc, low upon the rim of the sea.

Örnulf.

[Threateningly.] Thou shalt pay dear for this day’s work, foster-daughter!

Dagny.

Father, father! Surely thou wilt not harm her!

Örnulf.

Let me be! Now, Sigurd, now can no amends avail between Gunnar and me.

SIGURD.

What thinkest thou to do?

Örnulf.

That I know not; but far and wide shall the tale be told how Örnulf of the Fiords came to Gunnar’s hall.

Sigurd.

[With quiet determination.] Maybe; but this I tell thee, Örnulf, thou shalt never bear arms against him so long as I am alive.

Örnulf.

So, so! And what if nought else be my will?

Sigurd.

It shall not be—let thy will be never so strong.

Örnulf.

[Angrily.] Go then; join thou with my foes; I dare outface the twain of you!

Sigurd.

Hear me out, Örnulf; the day shall never dawnthat shall see thee and me at strife. There is honourable peace between us, Dagny is dearer to me than weapons or gold, and never shall I forget that thou art her nearest kinsman.

Örnulf.

There I know thee again, brave Sigurd!

Sigurd.

But Gunnar is my foster-brother; we have sworn each other faith and friendship. Both in war and peace have we faced fortune together, and of all men he is dearest to me. Stout though he be, he loves not war;—but as for me, ye know, all of you, that I shrink not from strife; yet here I stand forth, Örnulf, and pray for peace on Gunnar’s behalf. Let me have my will!

Örnulf.

I cannot; I should be a scoff to all brave men, were I to fare empty-handed back to Iceland.

Sigurd.

Thou shalt not fare empty-handed. Here in the cove my two long-ships are lying, with all the wealth I have won in my viking-ventures. There are many costly gifts from outland kings, good weapons by the chestful, and other priceless chattels. Take thou one of the ships; choose which thou wilt, and it shall be thine with all it contains—be that the atonement for Hiördis, and let Gunnar be at peace.

Örnulf.

Brave Sigurd, wilt thou do this for Gunnar?

Sigurd.

For a faithful friend, no man can do too much.

Örnulf.

Give half thy goods and gear!

Sigurd.

[Urgently.] Take the whole, take both my ships, take all that is mine, and let me fare with thee to Iceland as the poorest man in thy train. What I give, I can win once more; but if thou and Gunnar come to strife, I shall never see a glad day again. Now, Örnulf, thy answer?

Örnulf.

[Reflecting.] Two good long-ships, weapons, and other chattels—too much gear can no man have; but——[Vehemently.] No, no!—Hiördis has threatened me; I will not! I were dishonoured should I take thy goods!

Sigurd.

Yet listen——

Örnulf.

No, I say! I must fight for my own right, be my fortune what it may.

Kåre.

[Approaching.] Right friendly is Sigurd’s rede, but if thou wilt indeed fight thine own battle with all thy might, I can counsel thee better. Dream not of atonement so long as Hiördis has aught to say; but revenge can be thine if thou wilt hearken to me.

Örnulf.

Revenge? What dost thou counsel?

Sigurd.

Evil, I can well see!

Dagny.

[ToÖrnulf.] Oh, do not hear him!

Kåre.

Hiördis has declared me an outlaw; she will set snares for my life; do thou swear to see me scatheless, and this night will I burn Gunnar’s hall and all within it. Is that to thy mind?

Sigurd.

Dastard!

Örnulf.

[Quietly.] To my mind? Knowest thou, Kåre, what were more to my mind? [In a voice of thunder.] To hew off thy nose and ears, thou vile thrall. Little dost thou know old Örnulf if thou thinkest to have his help in such a deed of shame!

Kåre.

[Who has shrunk backwards.] If thou fall not upon Gunnar he will surely fall upon thee.

Örnulf.

Have I not weapons, and strength to wield them?

Sigurd.

[ToKåre.] And now away with thee! Thy presence is a shame to honourable men!

Kåre.

[Going off.] Well well, I must shift for myself as best I may. But this I tell you: if ye think to deal gently with Hiördis, ye will come to rue it. I know her—and I know where to strike her sorest!

[Goes down towards the shore.

Dagny.

He is hatching some revenge. Sigurd, it must be hindered!

Örnulf.

[Angrily.] Nay, let him do as he will; she is worth no better!

Dagny.

That meanest thou not; bethink thee, she is thy foster-child.

Örnulf.

Woe worth the day when I took her under my roof! Jökul’s words begin to come true.

Sigurd.

Jökul’s?

ÖRNULF.

Ay, her father’s. When I gave him his death-wound he fell back upon the sward, and fixed his eyes on me and sang:

Jökul’s kin for Jökul’s slayermany a woe shall still be weaving;Jökul’s hoard whoe’er shall harrythence shall harvest little gladness.

Jökul’s kin for Jökul’s slayer

many a woe shall still be weaving;

Jökul’s hoard whoe’er shall harry

thence shall harvest little gladness.

When he had sung that, he was silent awhile, and laughed; and thereupon he died.

Sigurd.

Why should’st thou heed his words?

Örnulf.

Who knows? The story goes, and many believe it, that Jökul gave his children a wolf’s heart to eat, that they might be fierce and fell; and Hiördis has surely had her share, that one can well see. [Breaks off on looking out towards the right.] Gunnar!—Do we two meet again!

Gunnar.

[Enters.] Ay, Örnulf, think of me what thou wilt, but I cannot part from thee as thy foe.

Örnulf.

What is thy purpose?

Gunnar.

To hold out the hand of peace to thee ere thou depart. Hear me all of you: go with me to my homestead, and be my guests as long as ye will. We lack not meat or drink or sleeping-room, and there shall be no talk of our quarrel either to-day or to-morrow.

Sigurd.

But Hiördis——?

Gunnar.

Yields to my will; she changed her thought on the homeward way, and deemed, as I did, that we would soon be at one if ye would but be our guests.

Dagny.

Yes, yes; let it be so.

Sigurd.

[Doubtfully.] But I know not if——

Dagny.

Gunnar is thy foster-brother; little I know thee if thou say him nay.

Gunnar.

[ToSigurd.] Thou hast been my friend where’er we fared; thou wilt not thwart me now!

Dagny.

And to depart from the land, leaving Hiördis with hate in her heart—no, no, that must we not!

Gunnar.

I have done Örnulf a great wrong; until it is made good, I cannot be at peace with myself.

Sigurd.

[Vehemently.] All else will I do for thee, Gunnar, but not stay here! [Mastering himself.] I am King Æthelstan’s sworn henchman, and I must be with him in England ere the winter is out.

Dagny.

But that thou canst be, none the less!

Gunnar.

No man can know what lot awaits him; mayhap this is our last meeting, Sigurd, and thou wilt repent that thou didst not stand by me to the end.

Dagny.

And long will it be ere thou see me glad again, if thou set sail to-day.

Sigurd.

[Determined.] Well, be it so! It shall be as ye will, although——But no more of that; here is my hand; I will stay to feast with thee and Hiördis.

Gunnar.

[Shakes his hand.] I knew it, Sigurd, and I thank thee.—And thou, Örnulf, say’st thou likewise?

Örnulf.

[Gruffly.] I shall think upon it. Bitterly has Hiördis galled me;—I will not answer to-day.

Gunnar.

It is well, old warrior; Sigurd and Dagny will know how to smooth thy brow. Now must I prepare the feast; peace be with you the while, and well met in my hall. [Goes out by the right.

Sigurd.

[To himself.] Hiördis has changed her thought, said he? Little he knows her; I rather deem that she is plotting——[Interrupting himself and turning to his men.] Come, follow me all to the ships; good gifts will I choose for Gunnar and his household.

Dagny.

Gifts of the best we have. And thou, father—thou shalt have no peace for me until thou yield thee.

She goes withSigurdand his men down towards the shore at the back.

Örnulf.

Yield me? Ay, if there were no women-folkin Gunnar’s house, then——Oh, if I but knew where to strike her!—Thorolf, thou here!

Thorolf.

[Who has entered hastily.] As thou seest. Is it true that thou hast met with Gunnar?

Örnulf.

Yes.

Thorolf.

And art at strife with him?

Örnulf.

H’m—with Hiördis, at least.

Thorolf.

Then be of good cheer; soon shalt thou be avenged!

Örnulf.

Avenged? Who shall avenge me?

Thorolf.

Listen: as I stood on board the ship, there came a man running, with a staff in his hand, and called to me: “If thou be of Örnulf’s shipfolk, then greet him from Kåre the Peasant, and say that now will I avenge the twain of us.” Thereupon he took a boat and rowed away, saying as he passed: “Twenty outlaws are at haven in the fiord; with them I fare southward, and ere eventide shall Hiördis be childless.”

Örnulf.

He said that! Ha, now I understand; Gunnar has sent his son away; Kåre is at feud with him——

Thorolf.

And now he is rowing southward to slay the boy!

Örnulf.

[With sudden resolution.] Up, all! That booty will we fight for!

Thorolf.

What wilt thou do?

Örnulf.

Leave that to me; it shall be I, and not Kåre, that will take revenge!

Thorolf.

I will go with thee!

Örnulf.

Nay, do thou follow with Sigurd and thy sister to Gunnar’s hall.

Thorolf.

Sigurd? Is he in the isle?

Örnulf.

There may’st thou see his warships; we are at one—do thou go with him.

Thorolf.

Among thy foes?

Örnulf.

Go thou to the feast. Now shall Hiördis learn to know old Örnulf! But hark thee, Thorolf, to no one must thou speak of what I purpose; dost hear? to no one!

Thorolf.

I promise.

Örnulf.

[Takes his hand and looks at him affectionately.] Farewell then, my fair boy; bear thee in courtly wise at the feast-house, that I may have honour of thee. Beware of idle babbling; but what thou sayest, let it be keen as a sword. Be friendly to those that deal with thee in friendly wise; but if thou be taunted, hold not thy peace. Drink not more than thou canst bear; but put not the horn aside when it is offered thee in measure, lest thou be deemed womanish.

Thorolf.

Nay, be at ease!

Örnulf.

Then away to the feast at Gunnar’s hall. I too will come to the feast, and that in the guise they least think of. [Blithely to the rest.] Come, my wolf-cubs; be your fangs keen;—now shall ye have blood to drink.

[He goes off with his elder sons to the right, at the back.

SigurdandDagnycome up from the ships, richly dressed for the banquet. They are followed by two men, carrying a chest, who lay it down and return as they came.

Thorolf.

[Looking out after his father.] Now fare they all forth to fight, and I must stay behind; it is hard to be the youngest of the house.—Dagny! all hail and greetings to thee, sister mine!

Dagny.

Thorolf! All good powers!—thou art a man, grown!

Thorolf.

That may I well be, forsooth, in five years——

Dagny.

Ay, true, true.

Sigurd.

[Giving him his hand.] In thee will Örnulf find a stout carl, or I mistake me.

Thorolf.

Would he but prove me——!

Dagny.

[Smiling.] He spares thee more than thou hast a mind to? Thou wast ever well-nigh too dear to him.

Sigurd.

Whither has he gone?

Thorolf.

Down to his ship;—go you on; he will follow.

Sigurd.

I await my men; they are mooring my ships and bringing ashore wares.

Thorolf.

There must I lend a hand!

[Goes down towards the shore.

Sigurd.

[After a moment’s reflection.] Dagny, my wife,now that we are alone, I have that to tell thee which must no longer be hidden.

Dagny.

[Surprised.] What meanest thou?

Sigurd.

There may be danger in this faring to Gunnar’s hall.

Dagny.

Danger? Thinkest thou that Gunnar——?

Sigurd.

Nay, Gunnar is brave and true—yet better had it been that I had sailed from the isle without crossing his threshold.

Dagny.

Thou makest me fear! Sigurd, what is amiss?

Sigurd.

First answer me this: the golden ring that I gave thee, where hast thou it?

Dagny.

[Showing it.] Here, on my arm; thou badest me wear it.

Sigurd.

Cast it to the bottom of the sea, so deep that none may ever set eyes on it again; else may it be the bane of many men!

Dagny.

The ring!

Sigurd.

[In a low voice.] That night when we bore away the twain of you—dost remember?

Dagny.

Do I remember!

Sigurd.

It is of that I would speak.

Dagny.

[In suspense.] What is it? Say on!

Sigurd.

Thou knowest there had been a feast; thou didst seek thy chamber betimes; but Hiördis still sat among the men in the feast-hall. The horn went busily round, and many a great vow was sworn. I swore to bear away a fair maid with me from Iceland; Gunnar swore the same as I, and passed the cup to Hiördis. She grasped it and stood up, and vowed this vow, that no warrior should have her to wife, save him who should go to her bower, slay the white bear that stood bound at the door, and carry her away in his arms.

Dagny.

Yes, yes; all this I know!

Sigurd.

All men deemed that it might not be, for the bear was the fiercest of beasts; none but Hiördis might come near it, and it had the strength of twenty men.

Dagny.

But Gunnar slew it, and by that deed won fame throughout all lands.

Sigurd.

[In a low voice.] He won the fame—but—I did the deed!

Dagny.

[With a cry.] Thou!

Sigurd.

When the men left the feast-hall, Gunnar prayed me to come with him alone to our sleeping-place. Then said he: “Hiördis is dearer to me than all women; without her I cannot live.” I answered him: “Then go to her bower; thou knowest the vow she hath sworn.” But he said: “Life is dear to him that loves; if I should assail the bear, the end were doubtful, and I am loath to lose my life, for then should I lose Hiördis too.” Long did we talk, and the end was that Gunnar made ready his ship, while I drew my sword, took Gunnar’s harness upon me, and went to the bower.

Dagny.

[With pride and joy.] And thou—thou didst slay the bear!

Sigurd.

I slew him. In the bower it was dark as under a raven’s wing; Hiördis deemed it was Gunnar that sat by her—she was heated with the mead—she drew a ring from her arm and gave it to me—it is that thou wearest now.

Dagny.

[Hesitating.] And thou wast alone that night with Hiördis in her bower?

Sigurd.

My sword lay drawn between us. [A short pause.] Ere the dawn, I bore Hiördis to Gunnar’s ship; she dreamed not of our guile, and he sailed away with her. Then went I to thysleeping-place and found thee there among thy women;—what followed, thou knowest; I sailed from Iceland with a fair maid, as I had sworn, and from that day hast thou stood faithfully at my side whithersoever I have wandered.

Dagny.

[Much moved.] My brave husband! And that great deed was thine!—Oh, I should have known it; it could have been none else! Hiördis, that proud and stately woman, couldst thou have won, yet didst choose me! Now wouldst thou be tenfold dearer to me, wert thou not already dearer than all the world.

Sigurd.

Dagny, my sweet wife, now thou knowest all—that need be known. I could not but warn thee; for that ring—Hiördis must never see it! Wouldst thou do my will, then cast it from thee—into the depths of the sea.

Dagny.

Nay, Sigurd, it is too dear to me; is it not thy gift? But be at ease, I will hide it from every eye, and never shall I breathe a word of what thou hast told me.

Thorolfcomes up from the ships, withSigurd’smen.

Thorolf.

All is ready for the feast.

Dagny.

Come then, Sigurd—my brave, my noble warrior!

Sigurd.

Beware, Dagny—beware! With thee it rests now whether this meeting shall end in peace or in blood. [Cheerfully to the others.] Away then, to the feast in Gunnar’s hall!

[Goes out withDagnyto the right; the others follow.

ACT SECOND.

The feast-room inGunnar’shouse. The entrance-door is in the back; smaller doors in the side-walls. In front, on the left, the greater high-seat; opposite it, on the right, the lesser. In the middle of the floor, a wood fire is burning on a built-up hearth. In the background, on both sides of the door, are daïses for the women of the household. From each of the high-seats, a long table, with benches, stretches backwards, parallel with the wall. It is dark outside; the fire lights the room.

HiördisandDagnyenter from the right.

Dagny.

Nay, Hiördis, it passes my wit to understand thee. Thou hast shown me all the house; I know not what thing thou lackest, and all thou hast is fair and goodly;—then why bemoan thy lot?

Hiördis.

Cage an eagle and it will bite at the wires, be they of iron or of gold.

Dagny.

In one thing at least thou art richer than I; thou hast Egil, thy little son.

Hiördis.

Better no child, than one born in shame.

Dagny.

In shame?

Hiördis.

Dost thou forget thy father’s saying? Egil is the son of a leman; that was his word.

Dagny.

A word spoken in wrath—why wilt thou heed it?

Hiördis.

Nay, nay, Örnulf was right; Egil is weak; one can see he is no freeborn child.

Dagny.

Hiördis, how canst thou——?

Hiördis.

[Unheeding.] Doubt not that shame can be sucked into the blood, like the venom of a snake-bite. Of another mettle are the freeborn sons of mighty men. I have heard of a queen that took her son and sewed his kirtle fast to his flesh, yet he never blinked an eye. [With an evil look.] Dagny, that will I try with Egil!

Dagny.

[Horrified.] Hiördis, Hiördis!

Hiördis.

[Laughing.] Ha-ha-ha! Dost thou think I meant my words? [Changing her tone.] But, believe me or not as thou wilt, there are timeswhen such deeds seem to lure me. Doubtless it is in my blood—for I am of the race of the Jötuns,[10]they say.—Come, sit thou here, Dagny. Far hast thou wandered in these five long years; tell me, thou hast ofttimes been a guest in the halls of kings?

Dagny.

Many a time—and chiefly with Æthelstan of England.

Hiördis.

And everywhere thou hast been held in honour, and hast sat in the highest seats at the board?

Dagny.

Doubtless. As Sigurd’s wife——

Hiördis.

Ay, ay—a famous man is Sigurd—though Gunnar stands above him.

Dagny.

Gunnar?

Hiördis.

One deed did Gunnar do that Sigurd shrank from. But let that be! Tell me, when Sigurd went a-viking and thou with him, when thou didst hear the sword-blades sing in the fierce war-game, when the blood streamed red on the deck—came there not over thee an untameable longing to plunge into the strife? Didst thou not don harness and take up arms?

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