MARIE BRUIN (_very softly_) And yet--

THE CHILD Come, little bird with silver feet!

(MAIRE _dies, and the child goes._)

SHAWN BRUIN She is dead!

BRIDGET BRUIN Come from that image: body and soul are gone.

You have thrown your arms about a drift of leaves Or bole of an ash tree changed into her image.

FATHER HART Thus do the spirits of evil s.n.a.t.c.h their prey Almost out of the very hand of G.o.d; And day by day their power is more and more, And men and women leave old paths, for pride Comes knocking with thin knuckles on the heart.

A VOICE (_singing outside_) The wind blows out of the gates of the day, The wind blows over the lonely of heart, And the lonely of heart is withered away While the faeries dance in a place apart, Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring, Tossing their milk-white arms in the air; For they hear the wind laugh and murmur and sing Of a land where even the old are fair, And even the wise are merry of tongue; But I heard a reed of Coolaney say, "When the wind has laughed and murmured and sung, The lonely of heart is withered away."

(_The song is taken up by many voices, who sing loudly, as if in triumph. Some of the voices seem to come from within the house._)

[CURTAIN]

THE RIDING TO LITHEND[1]

Gordon Bottomley

[Footnote 1: This play is reprinted by permission of and by arrangement with Constable and Company, Limited, London.]

CHARACTERS

GUNNAR HAMUNDSSON HALLGERD LONGCOAT, his wife RANNVEIG, his mother ODDNY, ASTRID, and STEINVOR, Hallgerd's housewomen ORMILD, a woman thrall BIARTEY, JOFRID, and GUDFINN, beggar-women GIZUR THE WHITE, MORD VALGARDSSON, THORGRIM THE EASTERLING, THORBRAND THORLEIKSSON and ASBRAND his brother, AUNUND, THORGEIB, and HROALD, riders MANY OTHER RIDERS AND VOICES OF RIDERS

TIME: _Iceland, A.D. 990_

SCENE: _The hall of GUNNAR'S house at Lithend in South Iceland.

The portion shewn is set on the stage diagonally, so that to the right one end is seen, while from the rear corner of this, one side runs down almost to the left front._

_The side wall is low and wainscoted with carved panelling on which hang weapons, shields, and coats of mail. In one place a panel slid aside shews a shut bed._

_In front of the panelling are two long benches with a carved high-seat between them. Across the end of the hall are similar panellings and the seats, with corresponding tables, of the women's dais; behind these and in the gable wall is a high narrow door with a rounded top._

_A timber roof slopes down to the side wall and is upheld by cross-beams and two rows of tall pillars which make a rather narrow nave of the centre of the hall. One of these rows runs parallel to the side wall, the pair of pillars before the high-seat being carved and ended with images; of the other row only two pillars are visible at the extreme right._

_Within this nave is the s.p.a.ce for the hearths; but the only hearth visible is the one near the women's dais. In the roof above it there is a louvre: the fire glows and no smoke rises.

The hall is lit everywhere by the firelight._

_The rafters over the women's dais carry a floor at the level of the side walls, forming an open loft which is reached by a wide ladder fixed against the wall: a bed is seen in this loft. Low in the roof at intervals are shuttered cas.e.m.e.nts, one being above the loft: all the shutters are closed. Near the fire a large s.h.a.ggy hound is sleeping; and ORMILD, in the undyed woollen dress of a thrall, is combing wool._

ODDNY _stands spinning at the side; near her_ ASTRID _and_ STEINVOR _sit st.i.tching a robe which hangs between them._

ASTRID Night is a winter long: and evening falls.

Night, night and winter and the heavy snow Burden our eyes, intrude upon our dreams, And make of loneliness an earthly place.

ORMILD This bragging land of freedom that enthralls me Is still the fastness of a secret king Who treads the dark like snow, of old king Sleep.

He works with night, he has stolen death's tool frost That makes the breaking wave forget to fall.

ASTRID Best mind thy comb-pot and forget our king Before the Longcoat helps at thy awaking....

I like not this forsaken quiet house.

The hous.e.m.e.n out at harvest in the Isles Never return. Perhaps they went but now, Yet I am sore with fearing and expecting Because they do not come. They will not come.

I like not this forsaken quiet house, This late last harvest, and night creeping in.

ODDNY I like not dwelling in an outlaw's house.

Snow shall be heavier upon some eyes Than you can tell of--ay, and unseen earth Shall keep that snow from filling those poor eyes.

This void house is more void by brooding things That do not happen, than by absent men.

Sometimes when I awaken in the night My throbbing ears are mocking me with rumours Of crackling beams, beams falling, and loud flames.

ASTRID (_pointing to the weapons by the high-seat_) The bill that Gunnar won in a far sea-fight Sings inwardly when battle impends; as a harp Replies to the wind, thus answers it to fierceness, So tense its nature is and the spell of its welding; Then trust ye well that while the bill is silent No danger thickens, for Gunnar dies not singly.

STEINVOR But women are let forth free when men go burning?

ODDNY Fire is a hurrying thing, and fire by night Can see its way better than men see theirs.

ASTRID The land will not be n.o.bler or more holpen If Gunnar burns and we go forth unsinged.

Why will he break the atonement that was set?

That wise old Njal who has the second sight Foretold his death if he should slay twice over In the same kin, or break the atonement set: Yet has he done these things and will not care.

Kolskegg, who kept his back in famous fights, Sailed long ago and far away from us Because that doom is on him for the slayings; Yet Gunnar bides although that doom is on him And he is outlawed by defiance of doom.

STEINVOR Gunnar has seen his death: he is spoken for.

He would not sail because, when he rode down Unto the ship, his horse stumbled and threw him, His face toward the Lithe and his own fields.

Olaf the Peac.o.c.k bade him be with him In his new mighty house so carven and bright, And leave this house to Rannveig and his sons: He said that would be well, yet never goes.

Is he not thinking death would ride with him?

Did not Njal offer to send his sons, Skarphedin ugly and brave and Hauskuld with him, To hold this house with Gunnar, who refused them, Saying he would not lead young men to death?

I tell you Gunnar is done.... His fetch is out.

ODDNY Nay, he's been topmost in so many fights That he believes he shall fight on untouched.

STEINVOR He rides to motes and Things before his foes.

He has sent his sons harvesting in the Isles.

He takes deliberate heed of death--to meet it, Like those whom Odin needs. He is fey, I tell you-- And if we are past the foolish ardour of girls For heroisms and profitless loftiness We shall get gone when bedtime clears the house.

'T is much to have to be a hero's wife, And I shall wonder if Hallgerd cares about it: Yet she may kindle to it ere my heart quickens.

I tell you, women, we have no duty here: Let us get gone to-night while there is time, And find new harbouring ere the laggard dawn, For death is making narrowing pa.s.sages About this hushed and terrifying house.

(RANNVEIG, _an old wimpled woman, enters as if from a door at the unseen end of the hall._)

ASTRID He is so great and manly, our master Gunnar, There are not many ready to meet his weapons: And so there may not be much need of weapons.

He is so n.o.ble and clear, so swift and tender, So much of Iceland's fame in foreign places, That too many love him, too many honour him To let him die, lest the most gleaming glory Of our grey country should be there put out.

RANNVEIG Girl, girl, my son has many enemies Who will not lose the joy of hurting him.

This little land is no more than a lair That holds too many fiercenesses too straitly, And no man will refuse the rapture of killing When outlawry has made it cheap and righteous.