The Vikings of Helgeland Part 17

DAGNY. They are; 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 may'st never weep for my sake. (He stops and looks out.)

DAGNY. What art thou listening to?

SIGURD. Hear'st thou nought--_there?_

(Points towards the left.)

DAGNY. Ay, there goes a fearsome storm over the sea!

SIGURD (going up a little towards the background). Hm, there will fall hard hailstones in that storm. (Shouts.) Who comes?

KARE THE PEASANT (without on the left). Folk thou wot'st of, Sigurd Viking!

(KARE THE PEASANT, with a band of armed men, enters from the left.)

SIGURD. Whither would ye?

KARE. To Gunnar's hall.

SIGURD. As foemen?

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

SIGURD. Maybe not.

KARE. 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!

KARE (with defiant laughter). Leave that to me; if thou wilt tackle thy s.h.i.+p to-night, we will give thee light for the task!--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, Ornulf; take vengeance on Kare the Peasant.

ORNULF (comes out, with the rest). Kare the Peasant--where is he?

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

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

SIGURD. Ay, that rede avails not; wouldst thou strike at Kare, thou must seek him out to-night; for when his misdeed is done, he will take to the mountains. I have challenged Gunnar to single combat; him thou hast safely enough, unless I myself--but no matter.-- To-night he must be s.h.i.+elded from his foes; it would ill befit thee to let such a dastard as Kare rob thee of thy revenge.

ORNULF. Thou say'st truly. To-night will I s.h.i.+eld the slayer of Thorolf; but to-morrow he must die.

SIGURD. He or I--doubt not of that!

ORNULF. Come then, to take vengeance for Ornulf'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 Hiordis or the rest.

DAGNY. Yes, I will follow them. Thou hast a kind thought even for Hiordis; I thank thee.

SIGURD. Go, go, Dagny!

DAGNY. I go; but be thou at ease as to Hiordis; she has gilded armour in her bower, and will know how to s.h.i.+eld 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 stand weaponless 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.) Hiordis! Comes she hither!

(HIORDIS enters, 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 s.h.i.+eld.

She has in her hand the bow strung with her hair.)

HIORDIS (hastily looking behind her, as though in dread of something pursuing her, goes close up to SIGURD, seizes him by the arm, and whispers:) Sigurd, Sigurd, canst thou see it?

SIGURD. What? Where ?

HIORDIS. The wolf there--close behind me; it does not move; it glares at me with its two red eyes. It is my wraith,[1], Sigurd!

Three times has it appeared to me; that bodes that I shall surely die to-night!

[1] 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.

SIGURD. Hiordis, Hiordis!

HIORDIS. It has sunk into the earth! Yes, yes, now it has warned me.

SIGURD. Thou art sick; come, go in with me.

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

SIGURD. What has befallen thee?

HIORDIS. What has befallen? That know I not; but true was it 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----!

HIORDIS (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 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 sustain thee through heavy days, and that thou wast born to the end I might find in _one_ man all that seemed to me great and n.o.ble; for this I know Sigurd--had we two held together, thou hadst become more famous than all others, and I happier.