(He shakes the bill above his head:  a deep resonant humming
  follows.

The dais door is thrown open, and ODDNY, ASTRID, and STEINVOR
stream through in their night-clothes.)

STEINVOR
The bill!

ODDNY
The bill is singing!

ASTRID
The bill sings!

    GUNNAR (shaking the bill again)

Ay, brain-biter, waken....  Awake and whisper
Out of the throat of dread thy one brief burden. 
Blind art thou, and thy kiss will do no choosing: 
Worn art thou to a hair’s grey edge, a nothing
That slips through all it finds, seeking more nothing. 
There is a time, brain-biter, a time that comes
When there shall be much quietness for thee: 
Men will be still about thee.  I shall know. 
It is not yet:  the wind shall hiss at thee first. 
Ahui!  Leap up, brain-biter; sing again. 
Sing!  Sing thy verse of anger and feel my hands.

                        RANNVEIG
  Stand thou, my Gunnar, in the porch to meet them,
  And the great door shall keep thy back for thee.

                        GUNNAR
  I had a brother there.  Brother, where are you....

                        HALLGERD
  Nay, nay.  Get thou, my Gunnar, to the loft,
  Stand at the casement, watch them how they come. 
  Arrows maybe could drop on them from there.

                        RANNVEIG
  ’Tis good:  the woman’s cunning for once is faithful.

      GUNNAR (turning again to the weapons)
  ’Tis good, for now I hear a foot that stumbles
  Along the stable-roof against the hall. 
  My bow—­where is my bow?  Here with its arrows.... 
  Go in again, you women on the dais,
  And listen at the casement of the bower
  For men who cross the yard, and for their words.

ASTRID
O Gunnar, we shall serve you.

(ASTRID, ODDNY, and STEINVOR go out by the dais door.)

RANNVEIG
Hallgerd, come;
We must shut fast the door, bar the great door,
Or they’ll be in on us and murder him.

                      HALLGERD

Not I:  I’d rather set the door wide open
And watch my Gunnar kindling at the peril,
Keeping them back—­shaming men for ever
Who could not enter at a gaping door.

RANNVEIG
Bar the great door, I say, or I will bar it—­
Door of the house you rule....  Son, son, command it.

      GUNNAR (as he ascends to the loft)
  O spendthrift fire, do you waft up again? 
  Hallgerd, what riot of ruinous chance will sate you?... 
  Let the door stand, my mother:  it is her way.

  (He looks out at the casement.)
  Here’s a red kirtle on the lower roof.

  (He thrusts with the bill through the casement.)

      A MAN’S VOICE (far off)
  Is Gunnar within?