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 space 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 casements, one being above
the loft: all the shutters are closed. Near the fire a large
shaggy 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 stitching 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 housemen 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 hi