(_As he thrusts another man rises a little farther back, and leaps past him into the loft. Others follow, and GUNNAR is soon surrounded by many armed men, so that only the rising and falling of his bill is seen._) The threshing-floor is full.... Up, up, brain-biter! We work too late to-night--up, open the husks. Oh, smite and pulse On their anvil heads: The smithy is full, There are shoes to be made For the hoofs of the steeds Of the Valkyr girls.... FIRST MAN Hack through the shaft.... SECOND MAN Receive the blade In the breast of a shield, And wrench it round.... GUNNAR For the hoofs of the steeds Of the Valkyr girls Who race up the night To be first at our feast, First in the play With immortal spears In deadly holes.... THIRD MAN Try at his back.... MANY VOICES (_shouting in confusion_) Have him down.... Heels on the bill.... Ahui, ahui.... (_The bill does not rise._) HROALD (_with the breaking voice of a young man, high over all_) Father.... It is my blow.... It is I who kill him. (_The crowd parts, suddenly silent, showing_ GUNNAR _fallen._ RANNVEIG _covers her face with her hands._) HALLGERD (_laughing as she leans forward and holds her breasts in her hands_) O clear sweet laughter of my heart, flow out! It is so mighty and beautiful and blithe To watch a man dying--to hover and watch. RANNVEIG Cease: are you not immortal in shame already? HALLGERD Heroes, what deeds ye compass, what great deeds--- One man has held ye from an open door: Heroes, heroes, are ye undefeated? GIZUR (_an old white-bearded man, to the other riders_) We have laid low to earth a mighty chief: We have laboured harder than on greater deeds, And maybe won remembrance by the deeds Of Gunnar when no deed of ours should live; For this defence of his shall outlast kingdoms And gather him fame till there are no more men. MORD Come down and splinter those old birds his gods That perch upon the carven high-seat pillars, Wreck every place his shadow fell upon, Rive out his gear, drive off his forfeit beasts. SECOND MAN It shall not be. MANY MEN Never. GIZUR We'll never do it: Let no man lift a blade or finger a clout-- Is not this Gunnar, Gunnar, whom we have slain? Home, home, before the dawn shows all our deed. (_The riders go down quickly over the wall-top, and disappear._)