ACT THIRD.

Örnulf.

As thou seest; but in truth he has been near his death.

Gunnar.

That I know.

Örnulf.

And hast no more joy in his return?

Gunnar.

Had he come sooner, I had been more glad. But tell me all that has befallen!

Örnulf.

That is soon done. Kåre the Peasant was plotting evil against you; with other caitiffs he fared southward after Egil.

Gunnar.

Kåre! [To himself.] Ha, now I understand Thorolf’s words!

Örnulf.

His purpose came to my ears; I needs must thwart so black a deed. I would not give atonement for Jökul, and, had things so befallen, I had willingly slain thee, Gunnar, in single combat—yet I could not but save thy child. With my sons, I hasted after Kåre.

Sigurd.

[Softly.] An accursed deed has here been done.

Örnulf.

When I came up with him, Egil’s guards lay bound; thy son was already in thy foemen’s hands, and they would not long have spared him. Hot was the fight! Seldom have I given and taken keener strokes; Kåre and two men fled inland; the rest sleep safely, and will be hard to waken.

Gunnar.

[In eager suspense.] But thou—thou, Örnulf——?

Örnulf.

[Darkly.] Six sons followed me into the fight.

Gunnar.

[Breathlessly.] But homewards——?

Örnulf.

None.

Gunnar.

[Appalled.] None! [Softly.] And Thorolf, Thorolf!

[Deep emotion among the bystanders.Hiördisshows signs of a violent mental struggle;Dagnyweeps silently by the high-seat on the right.Sigurdstands beside her, painfully agitated.

Örnulf.

[After a short pause.] It is hard for a many-branching pine to be stripped in a single storm. But men die and men live;—hand me a horn; I will drink to my sons’ memory. [One ofSigurd’smen gives him a horn.] Hail to you where now ye ride, my bold sons! Close upon your heels shall the bronze-gates not clang, for ye come to the hall with a great following. [Drinks, and hands back the horn.] And now home to Iceland! Örnulf has fought his last fight; the old tree has but one green branch left, and it must be shielded warily. Where is Thorolf?

Egil.

[To his father.] Ay, let me see Thorolf! Örnulfsays he will carve me a ship with many, many warriors aboard.

Örnulf.

I praise all good wights that Thorolf came not with us; for if he too—nay, strong though I be,thathad been too heavy for me to bear. But why comes he not? He was ever the first to meet his father; for to both of us it seemed we could not live apart a single day.

Gunnar.

Örnulf, Örnulf!

Örnulf.

[With growing uneasiness.] Ye stand all silent, I mark it now. What ails you? Where is Thorolf?

Dagny.

Sigurd, Sigurd—this will be the sorest blow to him!

Gunnar.

[Struggling with himself.] Old man!—No——and yet, it cannot be hid——

Örnulf.

[Vehemently.] My son! Where is he?

Gunnar.

Thorolf is slain!

Örnulf.

Slain! Thorolf? Thorolf? Ha, thou liest!

Gunnar.

I would give my warmest heart-blood to know him alive!

Hiördis.

[ToÖrnulf.] Thorolf was himself to blame for what befell; with dark sayings he gave us to wit that thou hadst fallen upon Egil and slain him;—we had parted half in wrath, and thou hast ere now brought death among my kindred. And moreover—Thorolf bore himself at the feast like a wanton boy; he brooked not our jesting, and spoke many evil things. Not till then did Gunnar wax wroth; not till then did he raise his hand upon thy son; and well I wot that he had good and lawful ground for that deed.

Örnulf.

[Calmly.] Well may we see that thou art a woman, for thou usest many words. To what end? IfThorolfThorolfis slain, then is his saga over.

Egil.

IfThorolfThorolfis slain, I shall have no warriors.

Örnulf.

Nay, Egil—we have lost our warriors now, both thou and I. [ToHiördis.] Thy father sang:

Jökul’s kin for Jökul’s slayermany a woe shall still be weaving.

Jökul’s kin for Jökul’s slayer

many a woe shall still be weaving.

Well hast thou wrought that his words should come true. [Pauses a moment, then turns to one of the men.] Where got he his death-wound?

The Man.

Right across his brow.

Örnulf.

[Pleased.] Ha; that is an honourable wound;he did not turn his back. But fell he sideways, or in toward Gunnar’s feet?

The Man.

Half sideways and half toward Gunnar.

Örnulf.

That bodes but half vengeance; well well,—we shall see!

Gunnar.

[Approaching.] Örnulf, I know well that all my goods were naught against thy loss; but crave of me what thou wilt——

Örnulf.

[Sternly interrupting him.] Give me Thorolf’s body, and let me go! Where lies he?

[Gunnarpoints silently to the back.

Örnulf.

[Takes a step or two, but turns and says in a voice of thunder toSigurd, Dagny,and others who are making as though to follow him, sorrowing.] Stay! Think ye Örnulf will be followed by a train of mourners, like a whimpering woman? Stay, I say!—I can bear my Thorolf alone. [With calm strength.] Sonless I go; but none shall say that he saw me bowed.

[He goes slowly out.

Hiördis.

[With forced laughter.] Ay, let him go as he will; we shall scarce need many men to face him should he come with strife again! Now, Dagny—I wot it is the last time thy father shall sail from Iceland on such a quest!

Sigurd.

[Indignant.] Oh, shame!

Dagny.

[Likewise.] And thou canst mock him—mock him, after all that has befallen?

Hiördis.

A deed once done, ’tis wise to praise it. This morning I swore hate and vengeance against Örnulf;—the slaying of Jökul I might have forgotten—all, save that he cast shame upon my lot. He called me a leman; if itbeso, it shames me not; for Gunnar is mightier now than thy father; he is greater and more famous than Sigurd, thine own husband!

Dagny.

[In wild indignation.] There thou errest, Hiördis—and even now shall all men know that thou dwellest under a coward’s roof!

Sigurd.

[Vehemently.] Dagny, beware!

Gunnar.

A coward!

Hiördis.

[With scornful laughter.] Thou pratest senselessly.

Dagny.

It shall no longer be hidden; I held my peace till thou didst mock at my father and my dead brothers; I held my peace while Örnulf was here, lest he should learn that Thorolf fell by adastard’s hand. But now—praise Gunnar nevermore for that deed in Iceland; for Gunnar is a coward! The sword that lay drawn between thee and the bear-slayer hangs at my husband’s side—the ring thou didst take from thy arm thou gavest to Sigurd. [Takes it off and holds it aloft.] Behold it!

Hiördis.

[Wildly.] Sigurd!

The Crowd.

Sigurd! Sigurd did the deed!

Hiördis.

[Quivering with agitation.] He! he!—Gunnar, is this true?

Gunnar.

[With lofty calm.] It is all true, save only that I am a coward; no coward or dastard am I.

Sigurd.

[Moved.] That art thou not, Gunnar! That hast thou never been! [To the rest.] Away, my men! Away from here!

Dagny.

[At the door, toHiördis.] Who is now the mightiest man at the board—my husband, or thine?

[She goes out with Sigurd and his men.

Hiördis.

[To herself.] Now have I but one thing left to do—but one deed to think upon: Sigurd or I must die!

ACT THIRD.

The hall inGunnar’shouse. It is day.

Hiördissits on the bench in front of the smaller high-seat, busy twisting a bow-string; on the table lie a bow and some arrows.

Hiördis.

[Pulling at the bow-string.] It is tough and strong; [With a glance at the arrows] the shaft is both keen and well-weighted—[Lets her hands fall in her lap] but where is the hand that——! [Vehemently.] Flouted, flouted by him—by Sigurd! I must hate him more than others, that can I well mark; but many days shall not pass ere I have——[Meditating.] Ay, but the arm, the arm that shall do the deed——?

Gunnarenters, silent and thoughtful, from the back.

Hiördis.

[After a short pause.] How goes it with thee, my husband?

Gunnar.

Ill, Hiördis; I cannot away with that deed of yesterday; it lies heavy on my heart.

Hiördis.

Do as I do; get thee some work to busy thee.

Gunnar.

Doubtless I must.

[A pause;Gunnarpaces up and down the hall, notices whatHiördisis doing, and approaches her.

Gunnar.

What dost thou there?

Hiördis.

[Without looking up.] I am twisting a bow-string; canst thou not see?

Gunnar.

A bow-string—of thine own hair?

Hiördis.

[Smiling.] Great deeds are born with every hour in these times; yesterday thou didst slay my foster-brother, and I have woven this since daybreak.

Gunnar.

Hiördis, Hiördis!

Hiördis.

[Looking up.] What is amiss?

Gunnar.

Where wast thou last night?

Hiördis.

Last night?

Gunnar.

Thou wast not in the sleeping-room.

Hiördis.

Know’st thou that?

Gunnar.

I could not sleep; I tossed in restless dreams of that—that which befell Thorolf. I dreamt that he came——No matter; I wakened. Then methought there sounded a strange, fair song through all the house; I arose; I pushed the door ajar; here I saw thee sitting by the log-fire—it burned blue and red—fixing arrow-heads, and singing sorceries over them.

Hiördis.

I did what was needful; for strong is the breast that must be pierced this day.

Gunnar.

I understand thee well: thou wouldst have Sigurd slain.

Hiördis.

Mayhap.

Gunnar.

Thou shalt never have thy will. I will keep peace with Sigurd, howe’er thou goad me.

Hiördis.

[Smiling.] Dost think so?

Gunnar.

I know it!

Hiördis.

[Hands him the bow-string.] Tell me, Gunnar—canst loose this knot?

Gunnar.

[Tries it.] Nay, it is too cunningly and firmly woven.

Hiördis.

[Rising.] The Norns[14]weave yet more cunningly; their web is still harder to unravel.

Gunnar.

Dark are the ways of the Mighty Ones;—what know we of them, thou or I?

Hiördis.

Yet one thing I know surely: that to both of us must Sigurd’s life be baleful.

[A pause;Gunnarstands lost in thought.

Hiördis.

[Who has been silently watching him.] Of what thinkest thou?

Gunnar.

Of a dream I had of late. Methought I had done the deed thou cravest; Sigurd lay slain on the earth; thou didst stand beside him, and thy face was wondrous pale. Then said I: “Art thou glad, now that I have done thy will?” But thou didst laugh and answer: “Blither should I be didst thou, Gunnar, lie there in Sigurd’s stead.”

Hiördis.

[With forced laughter.] Ill must thou know me if such a senseless dream can stay thy hand.

Gunnar.

Tell me, Hiördis, what thinkest thou of this hall?

Hiördis.

To speak truly, Gunnar, sometimes it seems to me too strait and narrow.

Gunnar.

Ay, ay, so I have thought; we are one too many.

Hiördis.

Two, mayhap.

Gunnar.

[Who has not heard her last words.] But that shall be set right.

Hiördis.

[Looks at him interrogatively.] Set right? Then thou art minded to——?

Gunnar.

To fit out my warships and put to sea; I will win back the honour I have lost because thou wast dearer to me than all beside.

Hiördis.

[Thoughtfully.] Thou wilt put to sea? Ay, so it may be best for us both.

Gunnar.

Even from the day we sailed from Iceland, I saw that it would go ill with us. Thy soul is strong and proud; there are times when I well-nigh fear thee; yet, it is strange—chiefly for that do I hold thee so dear. Dread goes forth from thee like a spell; methinks thou couldst lure me to the blackest deeds, and all would seem good to me that thou didst crave. [Shaking his head reflectively.] Unfathomable is the Norn’s rede; Sigurd should have been thy husband.

Hiördis.

[Vehemently.] Sigurd!

Gunnar.

Yes, Sigurd. Vengeance and hatred blind thee, else wouldst thou prize him better. Had I been like Sigurd, I could have made life glad for thee.

Hiördis.

[With strong but suppressed emotion.] That—that deemest thou Sigurd could have done?

Gunnar.

He is strong of soul, and proud as thou to boot.

Hiördis.

[Violently.] If that be so—[Collecting herself.] No matter, no matter! [With a wild outburst.] Gunnar, take Sigurd’s life!

Gunnar.

Never!

Hiördis.

By fraud and falsehood thou mad’st me thy wife—that shall be forgotten! Five joyless years have I spent in this house—all shall be forgotten from the day when Sigurd lives no more!

Gunnar.

No harm shall e’er befall him from my hand. [Shrinks back involuntarily.] Hiördis, Hiördis, tempt me not!

Hiördis.

Then must I find another avenger; not long shall Sigurd mock at me and thee! [Clenching her hands in convulsive rage.] With her—that simpleton—with her mayhap he is even now sitting alone, dallying, and making sport of us;speaking of the bitter wrong that was done me when in thy stead he bore me away; telling how he laughed over his guile as he stood in the mirk of my bower, and I knew him not!

Gunnar.

Nay, nay, he does not so!

Hiördis.

[Firmly.] Sigurd and Dagny must die! I cannot draw breath till they two are gone! [Comes close up to him, with sparkling eyes, and speaks passionately, but in a whisper.] Wouldst thou help me tothat, Gunnar, then should I live in love with thee; then should I clasp thee in such warm and wild embraces as thou dream’st not of.

Gunnar.

[Wavering.] Hiördis! Wouldst thou——?

Hiördis.

Set thy hand to the work, Gunnar—and the heavy days shall be past. No longer will I quit the hall when thou comest, no longer speak harsh things and quench thy smile when thou art glad. I will clothe me in furs and costly silken robes. When thou goest to war, I will follow thee; when thou ridest forth in peace, I will ride by thy side. At the feast I will sit by thee and fill thy horn, and drink to thee and sing fair songs to make glad thy heart!

Gunnar.

[Almost overcome.] Is it true? Thou wouldst——

Hiördis.

More than that, trust me, ten times more!Give me but revenge! Revenge on Sigurd and Dagny, and I will——[Stops as she sees the door open.] Dagny—comest thou here!

Dagny.

[From the back.] Haste thee, Gunnar! Call thy men to arms!

Gunnar.

To arms! Against whom?

Dagny.

Kåre the Peasant is coming, and many outlaws with him; he means thee no good; Sigurd has once barred his way; but who can tell——

Gunnar.

[Moved.] Sigurd has done this for me!

Dagny.

Sigurd is ever thy faithful friend.

Gunnar.

And we, Hiördis—we, who thought to——! It is as I say—there is witchcraft in all thy speech; no deed but seemeth fair to me, when thou dost name it.

Dagny.

[Astonished.] What meanest thou?

Gunnar.

Nothing, nothing! I thank thee for thy tidings, Dagny; I go to gather my men together. [Turns towards the door, but stops and comes forward again.] Tell me—how goes it with Örnulf?

Dagny.

[Bowing her head.] Ask not of him. Yesterday he bore Thorolf’s body to the ships; now he is raising a grave-mound on the shore;—there shall his sons be laid.

[Gunnargoes out by the back in silence.

Dagny.

Until evening there is no danger. [Coming nearer.] Hiördis, I have another errand in thy house; it is to thee I come.

Hiördis.

To me? After all that befell yesterday?

Dagny.

Even because of that. Hiördis, foster-sister, do not hate me; forget the words that sorrow and evil spirits placed in my mouth; forgive me all the wrong I did thee; for, trust me, I am now tenfold more hapless than thou!

Hiördis.

Hapless—thou! Sigurd’s wife!

Dagny.

It wasmydoing, all that befell—the stirring up of strife, and Thorolf’s death, and all the scorn that fell upon Gunnar and thee. Mine is all the guilt! Woe upon me!—I have lived so happily; but after this day I shall never know joy again.

Hiördis.

[As if seized by a sudden thought.] But before—inthese five long years—all that time hast thou been happy?

Dagny.

Canst thou doubt it?

Hiördis.

Yesterday I doubted it not; but——

Dagny.

What meanest thou?

Hiördis.

Nay, ’tis nought; let us speak of other matters.

Dagny.

No truly. Hiördis, tell me——!

Hiördis.

It will profit thee little; but since thou wilt have it so——[With a malignant expression.] Canst thou remember once, over in Iceland—we had followed with Örnulf thy father to the Council, and we sat with our playmates in the Council Hall, as is the manner of women. Then came two strangers into the hall.

Dagny.

Sigurd and Gunnar.

Hiördis.

They greeted us in courtly fashion, and sat on the bench beside us; and there passed between us much merry talk. There were some who must needs know why these two vikings came thither, and if they were not minded to take them wives there in the island. Then said Sigurd: “Twillbe hard for me to find the woman that shall be to my mind.” Örnulf laughed, and said there was no lack of high-born and well-dowered women in Iceland; but Sigurd answered: “The warrior needs a high-souled wife. She whom I choose must not rest content with a humble lot; no honour must seem too high for her to strive for; gladly must she follow me a-viking; war-weed must she wear; she must egg me on to strife, and never blink her eyes where sword-blades lighten; for if she be faint-hearted, scant honour will befall me.” Is it not true, so Sigurd spake?

Dagny.

[Hesitatingly.] True, he did—but——

Hiördis.

Suchwas she to be, the woman who could make life fair to him; and then—[With a scornful smile] then he chosethee!

Dagny.

[Starting, as in pain.] Ha, thou wouldst say that——?

Hiördis.

Doubtless thou hast proved thyself proud and high-souled; hast claimed honour of all, that Sigurd might be honoured in thee—is it not so?

Dagny.

Nay, Hiördis, but——

Hiördis.

Thou hast egged him on to great deeds, followed him in war-weed, and joyed to be where the strife raged hottest—hast thou not?

Dagny.

[Deeply moved.] No, no!

Hiördis.

Hast thou, then, been faint of heart, so that Sigurd has been put to shame?

Dagny.

[Overwhelmed.] Hiördis, Hiördis!

Hiördis.

[Smiling scornfully.] Yet thy lot has been a happy one all these years! Think’st thou that Sigurd can say the same?

Dagny.

Enough, enough. Woe is me! thou hast made me see myself too clearly.

Hiördis.

A jesting word, and straightway thou art in tears! Think no more of it. Look what I have done to-day. [Takes some arrows from the table.] Are they not keen and biting—feel! I know well how to sharpen arrows, do I not?

Dagny.

And to use them too; thou strikest surely, Hiördis! All this thou hast said to me—I had never thought of it before. [More vehemently.] But that Sigurd——! That for all these years I should have made his life heavy and unhonoured;—no, no, it cannot be true!

Hiördis.

Nay now, comfort thee, Dagny; indeed it is nottrue. Were Sigurd of the same mind as in former days, it might be true enough; for then was his whole soul bent on being the foremost man in the land;—now he is content with a lowlier lot.

Dagny.

No, Hiördis; Sigurd is high-souled now as ever; I see it well, I am not the right mate for him. He has hidden it from me; but it shall be so no longer.

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