Chapter 9

The men approach with the torches, forming a group around him; he is silent for a time, reflecting; then he says:

Bragi’s[17]gift is bitterwhen the heart is broken;sorrow-laden singer,singing, suffers sorely.Natheless, since the Skald-godgave me skill in song-craft,in a lay loud-ringingbe my loss lamented![Rises.Ruthless Norn[18]and wrathfulwrecked my life and ravaged,wiled away my welfare,wasted Örnulf’s treasure.Sons had Örnulf seven,by the great gods granted;—lonely now and life-sickgoes the greybeard, sonless.Seven sons so stately,bred among the sword-blades,made a mighty bulwarkround the snow-locked sea-king.Levelled lies the bulwark,dead my sons strong-hearted;gone the greybeard’s gladness,desolate his dwelling.Thorolf,—thou my last-born!’Mongst the bold the boldest!Soon were spent my sorrowso but thou wert left me!Fair thou wast as springtide,fond towards thy father,waxing straight and stalwartto so wight a warrior.Dark and drear his death-woundleaves my life’s lone evening;grief hath gripped my bosomas ’twixt hurtling targes.Nought the Norn denied meof her rueful riches,showering woes unstintedover Örnulf’s world-way.Weak are now my weapons.But, were god-might given me,onething would I strive for—on the Norn to venge me!Onething would I toil for—down to death to hurl thee,Norn, that now hast left menought but yonder grave-mound.Nought, I said? Nay, truly,somewhat still is Örnulf’s,since of Suttung’s[19]mead-hornhe betimes drank deeply.[With rising enthusiasm.Though she stripped me sonless,one great gift she gave me—songcraft’s mighty secret,skill to sing my sorrows.On my lips she laid it,goodly gift of songcraft;loud, then, let my lay sound,e’en where they are lying!Hail, my stout sons seven!Hail, as homeward ride ye!Songcraft’s glorious god-giftstauncheth woe and wailing.

Bragi’s[17]gift is bitterwhen the heart is broken;sorrow-laden singer,singing, suffers sorely.

Bragi’s[17]gift is bitter

when the heart is broken;

sorrow-laden singer,

singing, suffers sorely.

Natheless, since the Skald-godgave me skill in song-craft,in a lay loud-ringingbe my loss lamented![Rises.

Natheless, since the Skald-god

gave me skill in song-craft,

in a lay loud-ringing

be my loss lamented!

[Rises.

Ruthless Norn[18]and wrathfulwrecked my life and ravaged,wiled away my welfare,wasted Örnulf’s treasure.

Ruthless Norn[18]and wrathful

wrecked my life and ravaged,

wiled away my welfare,

wasted Örnulf’s treasure.

Sons had Örnulf seven,by the great gods granted;—lonely now and life-sickgoes the greybeard, sonless.

Sons had Örnulf seven,

by the great gods granted;—

lonely now and life-sick

goes the greybeard, sonless.

Seven sons so stately,bred among the sword-blades,made a mighty bulwarkround the snow-locked sea-king.

Seven sons so stately,

bred among the sword-blades,

made a mighty bulwark

round the snow-locked sea-king.

Levelled lies the bulwark,dead my sons strong-hearted;gone the greybeard’s gladness,desolate his dwelling.

Levelled lies the bulwark,

dead my sons strong-hearted;

gone the greybeard’s gladness,

desolate his dwelling.

Thorolf,—thou my last-born!’Mongst the bold the boldest!Soon were spent my sorrowso but thou wert left me!

Thorolf,—thou my last-born!

’Mongst the bold the boldest!

Soon were spent my sorrow

so but thou wert left me!

Fair thou wast as springtide,fond towards thy father,waxing straight and stalwartto so wight a warrior.

Fair thou wast as springtide,

fond towards thy father,

waxing straight and stalwart

to so wight a warrior.

Dark and drear his death-woundleaves my life’s lone evening;grief hath gripped my bosomas ’twixt hurtling targes.

Dark and drear his death-wound

leaves my life’s lone evening;

grief hath gripped my bosom

as ’twixt hurtling targes.

Nought the Norn denied meof her rueful riches,showering woes unstintedover Örnulf’s world-way.

Nought the Norn denied me

of her rueful riches,

showering woes unstinted

over Örnulf’s world-way.

Weak are now my weapons.But, were god-might given me,onething would I strive for—on the Norn to venge me!

Weak are now my weapons.

But, were god-might given me,

onething would I strive for—

on the Norn to venge me!

Onething would I toil for—down to death to hurl thee,Norn, that now hast left menought but yonder grave-mound.

Onething would I toil for—

down to death to hurl thee,

Norn, that now hast left me

nought but yonder grave-mound.

Nought, I said? Nay, truly,somewhat still is Örnulf’s,since of Suttung’s[19]mead-hornhe betimes drank deeply.[With rising enthusiasm.

Nought, I said? Nay, truly,

somewhat still is Örnulf’s,

since of Suttung’s[19]mead-horn

he betimes drank deeply.

[With rising enthusiasm.

Though she stripped me sonless,one great gift she gave me—songcraft’s mighty secret,skill to sing my sorrows.

Though she stripped me sonless,

one great gift she gave me—

songcraft’s mighty secret,

skill to sing my sorrows.

On my lips she laid it,goodly gift of songcraft;loud, then, let my lay sound,e’en where they are lying!

On my lips she laid it,

goodly gift of songcraft;

loud, then, let my lay sound,

e’en where they are lying!

Hail, my stout sons seven!Hail, as homeward ride ye!Songcraft’s glorious god-giftstauncheth woe and wailing.

Hail, my stout sons seven!

Hail, as homeward ride ye!

Songcraft’s glorious god-gift

stauncheth woe and wailing.

[He draws a deep breath, throws back the hair from his brow, and says calmly:

So—so; now is Örnulf sound and strong again.[To the men.] Follow me to the supper-board, lads; heavy has been our day’s work!

[Goes with the men into the boat-house.

Dagny.

Praised be the Mighty Ones on high that gave me so good a rede. [ToSigurd.] Wilt thou not go in?

Sigurd.

Nay, I list not to. Tell me, are all things ready for to-morrow?

Dagny.

They are ready; a silk-sewn shroud lies on the bench; but I know full surely that thou wilt hold thee against Gunnar, so I have not wept over it.

Sigurd.

Grant all good powers, that thou mayst never weep for my sake.

[He stops and looks out.

Dagny.

What art thou listening to?

Sigurd.

Hear’st thou nought—yonder?

[Points towards the left.

Dagny.

Ay, there goes a fearsome storm over the sea!

Sigurd.

[Going up a little towards the background.] There will fall hard hailstones in that storm. [Shouts.] Who comes?

Kåre the Peasant.

[Without on the left.] Folk thou wotst of, Sigurd Viking!

Kåre the Peasant,with a band of armed men, enters from the left.

Sigurd.

Whither would ye?

Kåre.

To Gunnar’s hall.

Sigurd.

As foemen?

Kåre.

Ay, trust me for that! Thou didst hinder me before; but now I ween thou wilt scarce do the like.

Sigurd.

Maybe not.

Kåre.

I have heard of thy challenge to Gunnar; but if things go to my mind, weak will be his weapons when the time comes for your meeting.

Sigurd.

’Tis venturesome work thou goest about; take heed for thyself, Peasant!

Kåre.

[With defiant laughter.] Leave that to me; wouldst thou tackle thy ship to-night, we will see that thou hast light enow!—Come, all my men; here goes the way.

[They go off to the right, at the back.

Dagny.

Sigurd, Sigurd, this misdeed must thou hinder.

Sigurd.

[Goes quickly to the door of the hut, and calls in.] Up from the board, Örnulf; take vengeance on Kåre the Peasant.

Örnulf.

[Comes out, with the rest.] Kåre the Peasant—where is he?

Sigurd.

He is making for Gunnar’s hall to burn it over their heads.

Örnulf.

Ha-ha—let him do as he will; so shall I be avenged on Gunnar and Hiördis, and afterwards I can deal with Kåre.

Sigurd.

Nay, that rede avails not; wouldst thou strike at Kåre, thou must seek him out to-night; for when his misdeed is done, he will take to the mountains. I have challenged Gunnar to meet me, man to man; him thou hast safe enough, unless I myself—but no matter.—To-night he must be shielded from his foes; it would ill befit thee to let so vile a caitiff as Kåre rob thee of thy revenge.

Örnulf.

Thou say’st truly. To-night will I shield the slayer of Thorolf; but to-morrow he must die.

Sigurd.

He or I—doubt not of that!

Örnulf.

Come then, to take vengeance for Örnulf’s sons.

[He goes out with his men by the back, to the right.

Sigurd.

Dagny, do thou follow them;—I must bide here; for the rumour of the combat is already abroad, and I may not meet Gunnar ere the time comes. But thou—do thou keep rein on thy father; he must go honourably to work; in Gunnar’s hall there are many women; no harm must befall Hiördis or the rest.

Dagny.

Yes, I will follow them. Thou takest thought even for Hiördis; I thank thee for it.

Sigurd.

Go, go, Dagny!

Dagny.

I go; but be thou at ease as to Hiördis; she has gilded armour in her bower, and will know how to shield herself.

Sigurd.

That deem I too; but go thou nevertheless; guide thy father’s course; watch over all—and over Gunnar’s wife!

Dagny.

Trust to me. Farewell, till we meet again!

[She follows the others.

Sigurd.

’Tis the first time, foster-brother, that I standweaponless whilst thou art in danger. [Listens.] I hear shouts and sword-strokes;—they are already at the hall. [Goes towards the right, but stops and recoils in astonishment.] Hiördis! Comes she hither!

Hiördisenters, clad in a short scarlet kirtle, with gilded armour: helmet, hauberk, arm-plates, and greaves. Her hair is flying loose; at her back hangs a quiver, and at her belt a small shield. She has in her hand the bow strung with her hair.

Hiördis.

[Hastily looking behind her, as though in dread of something pursuing her, goes close up toSigurd,seizes him by the arm, and whispers:] Sigurd, Sigurd, canst thou see it?

Sigurd.

What? Where?

Hiördis.

The wolfthere—close behind me; it does not move; it glares at me with its two red eyes. It is my wraith,[20]Sigurd! Three times has it appeared to me; that bodes that I shall surely die to-night!

Sigurd.

Hiördis, Hiördis!

Hiördis.

It has sunk into the earth! Aye, aye, now it has warned me.

Sigurd.

Thou art sick; come, go in with me.

Hiördis.

Nay, here will I bide; I have but little time left.

Sigurd.

What has befallen thee?

Hiördis.

What has befallen? That know I not; but ’twas true what thou said’st to-day, that Gunnar and Dagny stand between us; we must away from them and from life; then can we be together!

Sigurd.

We? Ha, thou meanest——

Hiördis.

[With dignity.] I have been homeless in this world from that day thou didst take another to wife. That was ill done of thee! All good gifts may a man give to his faithful friend—all, save the woman he loves; for if he do that, he rends the Norn’s secret web, and two lives are wrecked. An unerring voice within me tells me I came into the world that my strong soul might cheer and uphold thee through heavy days, and that thou wert born to the end I might find inoneman all that seemed to me great and noble; for this I know Sigurd—had we two held together, then hadst thou become more famous than all others, and I happier.

Sigurd.

It avails not now to mourn. Think’st thou ’tis a merry life that awaits me? To be by Dagny’sside day by day, and feign a love my heart shrinks from? Yet so it must be; it cannot be altered.

Hiördis.

[In a growing frenzy.] Itshallbe altered! We must out of this life, both of us! Seest thou this bow-string? With it can I surely hit my mark; for I have crooned fair sorceries over it! [Places an arrow in the bow, which is strung.] Hark! hark! that rushing in the air? It is the dead men’s ride to Valhal: I have bewitched them hither;—we two will join them in their ride!

Sigurd.

[Shrinking back.] Hiördis, Hiördis—I fear thee!

Hiördis.

[Not heeding him.] Our fate no power can alter now! Oh, ’tis better so than if thou hadst wedded me here in this life—if I had sat in thy homestead weaving linen and wool for thee and bearing thee children—pah!

Sigurd.

Hold, hold! Thy sorceries have been too strong for thee; they have made thee soul-sick, Hiördis! [Horror-struck.] Ha, see—see! Gunnar’s hall—it is burning!

Hiördis.

Let it burn, let it burn! The cloud-hall up yonder is loftier than Gunnar’s rafter-roof!

Sigurd.

But Egil, thy son—they are slaying him!

Hiördis.

Let him die—my shame dies with him!

Sigurd.

And Gunnar—they are taking thy husband’s life!

Hiördis.

What care I! A better husband shall I follow home this night! Ay, Sigurd, so must it be; here on this earth grows 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-like on high;—with them will we strive! Out of this life, Sigurd! I will enthrone thee king in heaven, and I myself will sit by 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, Hiördis! [He falls.

Hiördis.

[Jubilant, rushes up to him.] Sigurd, my brother,—now art thou mine at last!

Sigurd.

Now less than ever. Here our ways part; for I am a Christian man.

Hiördis.

[Appalled.] Thou——! Ha, no, no!

Sigurd.

The White God is mine; King Æthelstan taught me to know him; it is tohimI go.

Hiördis.

[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. I thank thee, Hiördis;—now am I so light and free.

[Dies.

Hiördis.

[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.

[Örnulf,Dagny,Gunnar,withEgil,gradually followed bySigurd’sandÖrnulf’smen, enter from the right.

Örnulf.

[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 blood and strife—and the storm;—hark, hark!

Gunnar.

[CarryingEgil.] Peace, and shelter for my child.

Örnulf.

Gunnar!

Gunnar.

Ay, Örnulf, my homestead is burnt and my men are slain; I am in thy power; do with me what thou wilt!

Örnulf.

That Sigurd must look to. But in, under roof! It is not safe out here.

Dagny.

Ay, ay, in! [Goes towards the boat-house, catches sight ofSigurd’sbody, and shrieks.] Sigurd, my husband!—They have slain him!

[Throwing herself upon him.

Örnulf.

[Rushes up.] Sigurd!

Gunnar.

[SetsEgildown.] 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.

Örnulf.

Daughter, it is as first thou saidst—Sigurd is slain.

Gunnar.

[As if seized by a sudden thought.] And Hiördis!—Has Hiördis been here?

Dagny.

[Softly and with self-control.] I know not; but this I know, that her bow has been here.

Gunnar.

Ay, I thought no less!

Dagny.

Hush, hush! [To herself.] So bitterly did she hate him!

Gunnar.

[Aside.] She has slain him—the night before the combat; then after all she loved me.

[A thrill of dread runs through the whole group;Asgårdsreien—the ride of the fallen warriors 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——

Örnulf.

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!

[Egilclings 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 Hiördis surely dead.

Örnulf.

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, Örnulf! And now aboard; I sail with thee to Iceland.

Örnulf.

Ay, to Iceland! Long will it be ere our forthfaring is forgotten.

Weapon-wielding warriors’ meeting,woful, by the norland seaboard,still shall live in song and sagawhile our stem endures in Iceland.

Weapon-wielding warriors’ meeting,

woful, by the norland seaboard,

still shall live in song and saga

while our stem endures in Iceland.

THE END

7. Failing to find a better equivalent for the Norwegian “Herse,” I have used the word “Headman” wherever it seemed necessary to give Gunnar a title or designation. He is generally spoken of as “Gunnar Herse” in the Norwegian text; but where it could be done without inconvenience, the designation has here been omitted.

8. “I ærlig holmgang.” The established form of duel in the viking times was to land the combatants on one of the rocky islets or “holms” that stud the Norwegian coast, and there let them fight it out. Hence “holmgang”=duel.

9. “At knæsætte” = to knee-set a child, to take it on one’s knee, an irrevocable form of adoption.

10. The giants or Titans of Scandinavian mythology.

11. Breastplate.

12. “Draugen,” a vague and horrible sea-monster.

13. Literally the “blood-night.”

14. The “Nornir” were the Fates of northern mythology.

15. The Valkyries.

16. Holmgang—see note, p.19.

17. Bragi, the god of poetry and eloquence.

18. See note, p.72.

19. Suttung was a giant who kept guard over the magic mead of poetical inspiration.

20. The word “wraith” is here used in an obviously inexact sense; but the wraith seemed to be the nearest equivalent in English mythology to the Scandinavian “fylgie,” an attendant spirit, often regarded as a sort of emanation from the person it accompanied, and sometimes (as in this case) typifying that person’s moral attributes.

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