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 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924082661996 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 GENERAL PREFACE vii 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO "LADY INGER OF OSTrIt" . . 3 
 
 "lady INGER OF OSTRAT" ........ 19 
 
 'rranslated by Charles Archer 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO "THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG " . . 191 
 
 author's PREFACE TO "THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG" . 196 - 
 
 * 
 
 " THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG " 205 
 
 Translated by William Archer and Mahy Morrison 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO "LOVe's comedy" 293 
 
 "love's comedy" 305 
 
 Translated by C. H. Herford 
 
LADY INGER OF OSTRIt 
 
LADY INGER OF OSTRAt 
 INTRODUCTION* 
 
 Henhik Johan Ibsen was bom on March 20, 1828, at 
 the little seaport of Skien, situated at the head of a long 
 fiord on the south coast of Norway. His great-great- 
 grandfather was a Dane who settled in Bergen about 
 1720. His great-grandmother, Wenche Dischington, was 
 the daughter of a Scotchman, who had settled and be- 
 come naturalised in Norway; and Ibsen himself was 
 inclined to ascribe some of his characteristics to the 
 Scottish strain in his blood. Both his grandmother 
 (Plesner by name) and his mother, Maria Cornelia 
 Altenburg, were of German descent. It has been said 
 that there was not a drop of Norwegian blood in Ibsen's 
 composition; but it is doubtful whether this statement 
 can be substantiated. Most" of his male ancestors were 
 sailors; but his father, Knud Ibsen, was a merchant. 
 When Henrik (his first child) ' was born, he seems to 
 have b;een prosperous, and to have led a very social and 
 perhaps rather extravagant life. But when the poet was 
 eight years old, financial disaster overtook the family, 
 and they had to withdraw to a comparatively small farm- 
 house on the outskirts of the little town, where they lived 
 in poverty and retirement. 
 
 As a boy, Ibsen appears to have been lacking in ani- 
 mal spirits and the ordinary childish taste for games. 
 
 * Copyright, 1908, by Charles Scribner's Sons. 
 3 
 
4 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 
 
 Our chief glimpses of his home life are due to his sister 
 Hedvig^the only one of his family with whom, in after 
 years, he maintained any intercourse, and whose name 
 he gave to one of his most beautiful creations.' She re- 
 lates that the only outdoor amusement he cared for was 
 "building" — in what material does not appear. Among 
 indoor diversions, that to which he was most addicted 
 was conjuring, a younger brother serving as his confed- 
 erate. We also hear of his cutting out fantastically- 
 dressed figures in paste-board, attaching them to wooden 
 blocks, and ranging them in groups or tableaux. He 
 may be said, in short, to have had a toy theatre without 
 the stage. In all these amusements, it is possible, with 
 a little goodwill, to divine the coming dramatist — the 
 constructive faculty, the taste for technical legerdemain 
 (which made him in his youth so apt a disciple of Scribe), 
 and the fundamental passion for manipulating fictitious 
 characters. The education he received was of the most 
 ordinary, but included a little Latin. The subjects 
 which chiefly interested him were history and religion. 
 He showed no special literary proclivities, though a 
 dream which he narrated in a school composition so 
 impressed his master that he accused him (much to 
 the boy's indignation) of having copied it out of some 
 book. 
 
 His chief taste was for drawing, and he was anxious 
 to become an artist, but his father could not afford to 
 pay for his training.^ At the age of fifteen, therefore, 
 
 ' See Introduction to The Wild Ditch. 
 
 " He continued to dabble in painting until he was thirty, or 
 thereabouts. 
 
INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 he had to set about earning his living, and waS ap- 
 prenticed to an apothecary in Grimstad, a town on the 
 south-west coast of Norway, between Arendal and Chris- 
 tianssand. He was here in even narrower social sur- 
 roundings than at Skien. His birthplace numbered 
 some 3,000 inhabitants, Grimstad about 800. That he 
 was contented with his lot cannot be supposed; and the 
 short, dark, taciturn youth seems to have made an un- 
 sympathetic and rather uncanny impression upon the 
 burghers of the little township. His popularity was not 
 heightened by a talent which he presently developed for 
 drawing caricatures and writing personal lampoons. 
 He found, however, two admiring friends in Christopher 
 Lorentz Due^ a custom-house clerk, and a law student 
 named Ole Schulerud. 
 
 The first political event which aroused his interest 
 and stirred him to literan^ expression was the French 
 Revolution of 1848. He himself writes:' "The times 
 were much disturbed. The February revolution, the 
 rising in Hungary and elsewhere, the Slesvig War — all 
 this had a strong and ripening effect on my develop- 
 ment, immature though it remained both then and long 
 afterwards. I wrote clangorous poems of encourage- 
 ment to the Magyars, adjuring them, for the sake of 
 freedom and humanity, not to falter in their righteous 
 war against 'the tyrants'; and I composed a long series 
 of sonnets to King Oscar, mainly, so far as I remem- 
 ber, urging him to set aside all petty considerations, 
 and march without delay, at the head of his army, to 
 the assistance of our Danish brothers on the Slesvig 
 ' Preface to the second edition of Catilina. 1875. 
 
6 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 
 
 frontier." The series of sonnets, and one of the poems 
 "To Hungary!" ha\-e been published in the poet's Lit- 
 erary Remains. About the same time he was reading 
 for his matriculation examination at Christiania Uni- 
 versity, where he proposed to study medicine; and it 
 happened that the Latin books prescribed were Sallust's 
 Catiline and Cicero's Catilinarian Orations. "I de- 
 voured these documents," says Ibsen, "and a few months 
 later my drama [Catilina] was finished." His friend 
 Schulerud took it to Christiania, to offer it to the theatre 
 and to the publishers. By both it was declined. Schule- 
 rud, however, had it printed at his own expense; and soon 
 after its appearance, in the early spring of 1850, Ibsen 
 himself came to Christiania.^ 
 
 For the most part written in blank verse, Catilina 
 towards the close breaks into rhyming trochaic lines of 
 thirteen and fifteen syllables. It is an extremely youth- 
 ful production, very interesting from the biographical 
 point of view, but of small substantive merit. What is 
 chiefly notable in it, perhaps, is the fact that it already 
 shows Ibsen occupied with the theme which was to 
 run through so many of his, works — thepmitrast be- 
 tween two types of womanhood, one strong and reso- 
 lutej^ even Jo. criminalityjjthe ^her comparatively weak, 
 clinging,., ajaud_,"j£auiainue^!_jn_ the conventional sense of 
 tlie-Word. 
 
 In Christiania Ibsen shared Schulerud 's lodgings, and 
 his poverty. There is a significant sentence in his pref- 
 
 ' This is his own statement of the order of events. According 
 to Halvdan Koht {Samlede Yorker, vol. x, p. i) he arrived in Chris- 
 tiania in March, 1850, and Catilina did not appear until April. 
 
INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 ace to the re-written Catilina, in which he tells how the 
 bulk of the first edition was sold as waste paper, and 
 adds: "In the days immediately following we lacked none 
 of the first necessities of life." He went to a "student- 
 factory," or, as we should say, a "crammer's," managed 
 by one Heltberg; and there he fell in with several of the 
 leading spirits of his generation — notably with Bjornson, 
 A. O. Vinje, and Jonas Lie. In the early summer of 
 1850 he wrote a one-act play, Kiasmpehoien (The War- 
 rior's Barrow), entirely in the sentimental and somewhat 
 verbose manner of the Danish poet Oehlenschlager. It 
 Was accepted by the Christiania Theatre, and performed 
 I three times, but cannot have put much money in the 
 poet's purse. With Paul Botten-Hansen and A. O. Vinje 
 he co-operated in the production of a weekly satirical 
 paper, at first entitled Manden {The Man), but after- 
 wards Andhrimner, aftei^ the cook of the gods in Val- 
 halla. To this journal, which lasted only from January 
 to September, 1851, he contributed, among other things, 
 a satirical "music-tragedy," entitled Norma, or a Politi- 
 cian's Love} As the circulation of the paper is said to 
 have been something under a hundred, it cannot have 
 paid its contributors very lavishly. About this time, too, 
 he narrowly escaped arrest on account of some politi- 
 cal agitation, in which, however, he had not been very 
 deeply concerned. 
 
 Meanwhile a movement had been going forward in 
 the capital of Western Norway, Bergen, which was to 
 have a determining influence on Ibsen's destinies. 
 
 ' The whole three acts are comprised in eight pages of the Literary 
 Remains (vol. i). 
 
8 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 
 
 Up to 1850 there had been practically no Norwegian 
 drama. The two great poets of the first half of the cen- 
 tury, Wergeiand and Welhaven, had nothing dramatic 
 in their composition, though Wergeiand more than once 
 essayed the dramatic form. Danish actors and Danish 
 plays held entire possession of the Christiania Theatre; 
 and, though amateur performances were not uncommon 
 in provincial towns, it was generally held that the Nor- 
 wegians, as a nation, were devoid of all talent for acting. 
 The very sound of Norwegian (as distinct from Danish) 
 was held by Norwegians themselves to be ridiculous on 
 the stage. Fortunately Ole Bull, the great violinist, was 
 not of that opinion. With the insight of genius, he saw 
 that the time had come for the development of a national 
 drama; he set forth this view in a masterly argument 
 addressed to the Storthing; and he gave practical effect 
 to it by establishing, at his own risk, a Norwegian the- 
 atre in Bergen. How rightly he had judged the situa- 
 tion may be estimated from the fact that among the raw 
 ■lads who first presented themselves for employment was 
 Johannes Brun, afterwards one of the greatest of come- 
 dians; while the first "theatre-poet" engaged by the man- 
 agement was none other than Henrik Ibsen. 
 
 The theatre was opened on January 2, 1850; Ibsen 
 entered upon his duties (at a salary of less than ,£70 a 
 year) in November, 1851.' 
 
 Incredibly, pathetically small, according to our ideas, 
 
 were the material resources of Bull's gallant enterprise. 
 
 ' The history of Ibsen's connection with the Bergen Theatre is 
 written at some length in an article by me, entitled "Ibsen's Ap- 
 prenticeship," published in the Fortnightly Review for January, 
 1904. From that article I quote freely in the following pages. 
 
INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 The town of Bergen numbered only ,25,000 inhabitants. 
 Performances were given only twice, or, at the outside, 
 three times, a week; and the highest price of admission 
 was two shillings. What can have been attempted in 
 the way of scenery or costumes it is hard to imagine. Of 
 a three-act play, produced in 1852, we read that "the 
 mounting, which cost £22 10s., left nothing to be de- 
 sired." 
 
 Ibsen's connection with the Bergen Theatre lasted 
 from November 6, 1851, until the summer of 1857 — 
 that is to say, from his twtenty-fourth to his thirtieth year. 
 He was engaged in the first instance "to assist the the- 
 atre as dramatic author," but in the following year he 
 received from the management a "travelling stipend" of 
 £45 to enable him to study the art of theatrical produc- 
 tion in Denmark and Germany, with the stipulation that, 
 on his return, he should undertake the duties of "scene 
 instructor" — that is to say, stage-manager or producer. 
 In this function he seems to have been — as, indeed, he 
 always was — extremely conscientious. A book exists in 
 the Bergen Public Library containing (it is said) careful 
 designs by him for every scene in the plays he produced, 
 and full notes as to entrances, exits, groupings, costumes, 
 accessories, etc. But he was not an animating or in- 
 spiring producer. He had none of the histrionic vivid- 
 ness of his successor in the post, Bjornstjerne Bjornson, 
 who, like all great producers, could not only tell the act- 
 ors what to do, but show them how to do it. Perhaps 
 it was a sense of his lack of impulse that induced the 
 management to give him a colleague, one Herman Lad- 
 ing, with whom his relations were none of the happiest. 
 
10 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 
 
 Ibsen is even said.^n one occasion, to have challenged 
 Lading to a duel. 
 
 One of the duties of the "theatre-poet" was to" have a 
 new play ready for each recurrence of the "Foundation 
 Day" of the theatre, January 2. On that date, in 1853, 
 Ibsen produced a romantic comedy, St. John's Night, 
 which was first printed in the Literary Remains (1909). 
 It is an exceedingly inimature work, confused and triv- 
 ial in intrigue, and for the most part conventional in 
 characterization. Nevertheless it is interesting, inas- 
 much as it contains the germs of many ideas to which 
 he afterwards returned in his maturer works. In the 
 personage of Julian Paulsen, for example — Ibsen's first 
 essay in satirical character-drawing — we find some traits 
 which reappear in Stensgard, and others which fore- 
 shadow Hialmar Ekdal. But it is principally of the 
 Troll-scenes in Peer Gynt that we are reminded. One 
 of the poet's aims, it would seem, was to point the con- 
 trast between true and false — between sincere and in- 
 sincere — romanticism. To this end, he shows us a fairy 
 revel on St. John's Night, which is seen in its true colors 
 by the hero and heroine, while the ridiculous Paulsen 
 and his affected inamorata niistake it for a dance of peas- 
 ants around a bonfire. Moreover, Paulsen, who is really 
 an amusing character, confesses that he was consumed 
 by an ideal passion for the "huldra" or dryad of North- 
 ern mythology, until he learned that she was provided 
 with a tail, which shocked his aesthetic sensibilities. 
 Thus at many points we find the poet's mind already 
 moving upon the plane of fantasy to which it was to re- 
 turn fourteen years later in the second and third acts of 
 
INTRODUCTION 11 
 
 Peer Gynt. The play had no success, and was per- 
 formed only twice. For the next Foundation Day, Jan- 
 uary 2, 1854, Ibsen prepared a revised version of The 
 Warrior's Barrow, already produced in Christiania. A 
 year later, January 2, 1855, Lady Inger of Ostrat was 
 produced^ — a work still immature, indeed, but giving, for 
 the first time, no uncertain promise of the master dram- 
 atist to come. 
 
 In an autobiographical letter to the Danish critic, 
 Peter Hansen, written from Dresden in 1870, Ibsen says: 
 "Lady Inger of Ostrat is the result of a love-affair — 
 hastily entered into and violently broken off — to which 
 several of my minor poems may also be attributed, such 
 as Wild-flowers and Pot-plants, A Bird-Song, etc." The 
 heroine of this love-affair can now be identified as a lady 
 named Henrikke Hoist, who seems to have preserved 
 through a long life the fresh, bright spirit, the overflow- 
 ing joyousness, which attracted Ibsen when she was only 
 in her seventeenth year. Their relation was of the most 
 innocent. It went no further than a few surreptitious 
 rambles in the romantic surroundings of Bergen, usu- 
 ally with a somewhat older girl to play propriety, and 
 with a bag of sugar-plums to fill up pauses in the con- 
 versation. The "violent'' ending seems to have come 
 when the young lady's father discovered the secret of 
 these excursions, and doubtless placed her under more 
 careful control. What there was in this episode to sug- 
 gest, or in any way influence. Lady Inger, I cannot under- 
 stand.- Nevertheless the identification seems quite cer- 
 tain. The affair had a charming little sequel. During 
 
12 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 
 
 the days of their love's, young dream, Ibsen treated the 
 "wild-flower" with a sort of shy and distant chiValry at 
 which the wood-gods must have smiled. He avoided 
 even touchhig her hand, and always addressed her by 
 the "De" (you) of formal politeness. But when they 
 met again after many years, he a famous poet and she a 
 middle-aged matron, he instinctively adopted the "Du 
 (thou) of affectionate intimacy, and she responded in 
 kind. He asked her whether she had recognised her- 
 self in any of his works, and she replied: "I really don't 
 know, unless it be in the parson's wife in Love's Com- 
 edy, with her eight children and her perpetual knitting." 
 "Ibsen protested," says Herr Paulsen, in whose Samliv 
 med Ibsen a full account of the episode may be read. It 
 is interesting to note that the lady did not recognise her- 
 self in Elina Gyldenlove, any more than we can. 
 
 It must have been less than a year after the produc- 
 tion of Lady Inger that Ibsen made the acquaintance of 
 the lady who was to be his wife. Susanna Dae Thore- 
 sen was a daughter (by his second marriage) of Pro- 
 vost* Thoresen, of Bergen, whose third wife, Magdalene 
 Krag, afterwards became an authoress of some celebrity. 
 It is recorded that Ibsen's first visit to the Thoresen 
 household took place on January 7, 1856,^ and that on 
 that occasion, speaking to Susanna Thoresen, he was 
 suddenly moved to say to her: "You are now Elina, but 
 
 ' Provost ("Provst") is an ecclesiastical title, roughly equivalent 
 to Dean. 
 
 ' See article by Dr. Julius Elias in Die neus Rundschau, December, 
 1906, p. 1463. Dr. Brahm, in the same magazine (p. 1414), writes 
 as thouglrthis were Ibsen's first meeting with his wife; and a note 
 by Halvdan Koht, in the Norwegian edition of Ibsen's Letters, 
 
INTRODUCTION 13 
 
 in time you will become Lady Inger." Twenty years 
 later, at Christmas, 1876, he gave his wife a copy of the 
 German translation of Lady Inger, with the following 
 inscription on the fly-leaf: 
 
 "This book is by right indefeasible thine. 
 Who in spirit art born of the Ostrat line." 
 
 In, Lady Inger Ibsen has chosen a theme from the 
 very darkest hour of Norwegian history. King Sverre's 
 democratic monarchy, dating from the beginning of the 
 thirteenth century, had paralysed the old Norwegian no- 
 bility. One by one the great families died out, their 
 possessions being concentrated in the hands of the few 
 survivors, who regarded their wealth as a privilege un- 
 hampered by obligations. At the beginning of the six- 
 teenth century, then, pajjriotism and public spirit were 
 almost dead among the nobles, while the monarchy, be- 
 fore which the old aristocracy had fallen, was itself dead, 
 or rather merged (since 1380) in the Crown of Denmark. 
 The peasantry, too, had long ago lost all effective voice 
 in political affairs; so that Norway lay prone and inert 
 at the mercy of her Danish rulers. It is at the moment 
 of deepest national degradation that Ibsen has placed 
 his, tragedy; and the degradation was, in fact, even deep- 
 er than he represents it, for the longings for freedom, the 
 
 seems to bear out this view. But it would appear that what Fru 
 Ibsen told Dr. Elias was that on the date mentioned Ibsen " for the 
 first time visited at her father's house." The terms of the anecdote 
 almost compel us to assume that he had previously met her else- 
 where. It seems almost inconceivable that Ibsen, of all people, 
 should have made such a speech to a lady on their very first meeting. 
 
14 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 
 
 stirrings of revolt, which form the motive-power of the 
 action, are invented, or at any rate idealised, by the 
 poet. Fru Inger Ottisdatter Gyldenlove was, in fact, 
 the greatest personage of her day in Norway. She was 
 the best-born, the wealthiest, and probably the ablest 
 woman in the land. At the time when Ibsen wrote, lit- 
 tle more than this seems to have been known of her; 
 so that in making her the victim of a struggle between pa- 
 triotic duty and maternal love, he was perhaps poetising 
 in the absence of positive evidence, rather than in oppo- 
 sition to it. Subsequent research, unfortunately, has 
 shown that Fru Inger was but little troubled with patri- 
 otib aspirations. She was a hard and grasping woman, 
 ambitious of social power and predominance, but inac- 
 cessible, or nearly so, to national feeling. It was from 
 sheer social ambition, and with no qualms of patriotic 
 conscience, that she married her daughters to Danish 
 noblemen. True, she lent some support to the insur- 
 rection of the so-called "Dale-junker," a peasant who 
 gave himself out as the heir of Sten Sture, a former re- 
 gent of Sweden; but there is not a tittle of ground for 
 making this pretender her son. He might, indeed, have 
 become her son-in-law, for, speculating on his chances 
 of success, she had betrothed one of her daughters to 
 him. Thus the Fru Inger of Ibsen's play is, in her char- 
 acter and circumstances, as much a creation of the poet's 
 as though no historic personage of that name had ever 
 existed. Olaf Skaktavl, Nils Lykke, and Elina Gylden- 
 love are also historic names; but with them, too, Ibsen 
 has dealt with the utmost frefedom. The real Nils 
 Lykke was married in 1528 to the real Elina Gylden- 
 
INTRODUCTION 15 
 
 love. She died four years later, leaving him two chil- 
 dren; and thereupon he would fain have married her 
 sister Lucia. Such a union, however, was regarded as 
 incestuous, and the lovers failed in their effort to obtain 
 a special dispensation. Lucia then became her brother- 
 in-law's mistress, and bore him a son. But the ecclesi- 
 astical law was in those days not to be trifled with; 
 Nils Lykke was thrown into prison for his crime, con- 
 demned, and killed in his dungeon, in the year of 
 grace , 1535. Thus there was a tragedy ready-made in 
 Ibsen's material, though it was not the tragedy he chose 
 to write. 
 
 The Bergen public did not greatly take to, Lady Inger, 
 and it was performed, in its novelty, only twice. Nor 
 is the reason far to seek. The extreme complexity of 
 the intrigue, and the lack of clear guidance through its 
 mazes, probably left the !^ergen audiences no less puz- 
 zled than the London audiences who saw the play at the 
 Scala Theatre in 1906.' It is a play which can be ap- 
 preciated only by spectators who know it beforehand. 
 Such audiences it has often found in Norway, where it 
 was revived at the Christiania Theatre in 1875; but in 
 Denmark and Germany, though it has been produced 
 several times, it has never been very successful. We 
 need go no further than the end of the first act to under- 
 stand the reason. On an audience which knows noth- 
 ing of the play, the sudden appearance of a "Stranger," 
 to whose identity it has not the slightest clue, can pro- 
 
 ' Stage Society performances, January 28 and 29, 1906. Lady 
 Inger was played by Miss Edyth Olive, Elina by Miss Alice Craw- 
 ford, Nils Lykke by Mr. Henry Ainley, Olaf Skaktavl by Mr. Alfred 
 Brydone, and Nils Stensson by Mr. Harcourt Williams. 
 
16 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 
 
 duce no effect save one of bewilderment. To rely on 
 such an incident for what was evidently intended to be 
 a thrilling' "curtain," was to betray extreme inexperi- 
 ence; and this single trait is typical of much in the play. 
 Nevertheless Lady Inger marks a decisive advance in 
 Ibsen's development. It marks, one may say, the birth 
 of his power of invention. He did not as yet know how 
 to restrain or clarify his invention, and he made clumsy 
 use of the stock devices of a bad school. But he had 
 once for all entered upon that course of technical 
 training which it took him five-a,nd-twenty years to 
 complete. He was learning much that he was after- 
 wards to unlearn; but had he not undergone this ap- 
 prenticeship, he would never have been the master he 
 ultimately became. 
 
 When Ibsen entered upon his duties at the Bergen 
 Theatre, the influence of Eugene Scribe and his imita- 
 tors was at its very height. Of the one hundred and 
 forty-five plays produced during his tenure of office, more 
 than half (seventy-five) were French, twenty-one being 
 by Scribe himself, and at least half the remainder by 
 adepts of his school. Bayard, Dumanoir, Melesville, etc. 
 It is to this school that Ibsen, in Lady Inger, proclaims 
 his adherence; and he did not finally shake off its in- 
 fluence until he wrote the Third Act of A Doll's House 
 in 1879. Although the romantic environment of the 
 play, and the tragic intensity of the leading character, 
 tend to disguise the relationship, there can be no doubt 
 that Lady Inger is, in essence, simply a French drama of 
 intrigue, constructed after the method of Scribe, as ex- 
 emplified in Adrienne Lecouvreur, Les Contes de la Reine 
 
INTRODUCTION 17 
 
 de Navarre,^ and a dozen other French plays, with the 
 staging of which the poet was then occupied. It might 
 seem that the figure of Elina, brooding over the thought 
 of her dead sister, coffined in the vault below the ban- 
 queting-hall, belonged rather to German romanticism; 
 but there are plenty of traces of German romanticism 
 even in the French plays with ^^hich the good people 
 of Bergen were regaled. For the suggestion of grave- 
 vaults and coflaned heroines, for example, Ibsen need 
 have gone no further than Dumas's Catherine Howard, 
 which he produced in March, 1853. I do not, however, 
 pretend that his romantic colouring came to him from 
 France. It came to him, doubtless, from Germany, by 
 way of Denmark. My point is that the conduct of the 
 intrigue in Lady Inger shows the most unmistakable 
 marks of his study of the great French plot-manipulators. 
 Its dexterity and its artificiality alike are neither Ger- 
 man nor Danish, but French. Ibsen had learnt the 
 great secret of Scribe — 'the secret of dramatic movement. 
 The play is full of those ingenious complications, mis- 
 takes of identity, and rapid turns of fortune by which 
 Scribe enchained the interest of his audiences. Its cen- 
 tral theme — a mother plunging into intrigue and crime 
 for the advancement of her son, only to fin(J that her son 
 himself has been her victim — is as old as Greek tragedy. 
 The secondary story, too — that of Elina's wild infatua- 
 tion for the betrayer and practically the murderer of her 
 sister — could probably be paralleled in the ballad litera- 
 
 ' "these two plays were produced, respectively, in March and 
 October, 1854, at the very time when Ibsen must have been plan- 
 ning and composing Lady Inger. 
 
18 LADY INGER OP OSTRAT 
 
 ture of Scotland, Germany, or Denmark, and might, in- 
 deed, have been told, in verse or prose, by Sir Walter 
 Scott. But these very un-Parisian elements are handled 
 in a fundamentally Parisian fashion, and Ibsen is clearly 
 fascinated, for the time, by the ideal of what was after- 
 wards to be known as the "well-made play." The fact 
 that the result is in reality an ill-made play in no way in- 
 validates this theory. It is perhaps the final condemna- 
 tion of the well-made play that in nine cases out of ten 
 — and even in the hands of far more experienced play- 
 wrights than the young Bergen "theatre-poet" — it is apt 
 to prove ill-made after all. 
 
 Far be it from me, however,, to speak in pure dispar- 
 agement of Lady Inger. With all its defects, it seems to 
 me manifestly the work of a great poet — the only one of 
 Ibsen's plays prior to The Vikings at Helgeland of which 
 this can be said. It may be that early impressions mis- 
 lead me; but I still cannot help seeing in Lady Inger a 
 figure of truly tragic grandeur; in Nils Lykke one of the 
 few really seductive seducers in literature; and in many 
 passages of thei dialogue, the touch of a master hand. 
 
 W. A. 
 
LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 
 
 (1855) 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 Lady Inger Ottisdaughteb Romer, widow of High Steward 
 
 Nils Gyldenlove. 
 Elina Gyldenlove, her daughter. 
 Nils Lykke, Danish knight and councillor. 
 Olaf Skaktavl, an outlawed Norwegian noble. 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Jens Bielke, Swedish commander. 
 BiORN, majordoma at Ostrat. 
 Finn, a servant. 
 EiNAK HuK, bailiff at Ostrat. 
 Servants, peasants, and Swedish men-at-arms. 
 
 The action takes place at Ostrat Manor, on the Trondhiem Fiord, 
 in the year 1528. 
 
 [Pronunciation of Names. — ^Ostrat = Ostrot; Elina (Nor- 
 wegian, Eline) = Eleena; Stensson = Staynson; Biom = Bybm; 
 Jens Bielke = Yens Byelke; Huk = Hook. The y's in "Inger" 
 and in "Gyldenlove" are, of course, hard. The final e's and 
 the 6's pronounced much as in German.] 
 
LADY INGER OF OSTRAt 
 
 DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS 
 
 ACT FIRST 
 
 A room at Ostrat. Through an open door in the back, the 
 Banquet Hall is seen in faint moonlight, which shines 
 fitfully through a deep bow-window, in the opposite 
 wall. To the right, an entrance-door; further for- 
 ward, a curtained window. On the left, a door lead- 
 ing to the inner rooms; further forward a large open 
 fireplace, which casts a glow over the room. It is a 
 stormy evening. 
 
 BioKN and Finn are sitting by the fireplace. The latter 
 is occupied in polishing a helmet. Several pieces of 
 armour lie near them, along with a sword and shield. 
 
 Finn. 
 [After a pause.] Who was Knut' Alfson ? 
 
 BlOKN. 
 
 My Lady says he was the last of Norway's knighthood. 
 
 Finn. 
 
 And the Danes killed him at Oslo-fiord ? 
 
 ' Pronounce Knoot. 
 21 
 
22 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 BlOHN. 
 
 If you know not that, ask any child of five. 
 
 Finn. 
 
 So Knut Alf son was the last of our knighthood ? And 
 now he's dead and gone ! [Holds up the helmet.] Well, 
 thou must e'en be content to hang scoured and bright in 
 the Banquet Hall; for what art thou now but an empty 
 nut-shell? The kernel — the worms have eaten that 
 many a winter agone. 
 
 What say you, Biorn — may hot one call Norway's land 
 an empty nut-shell, even like the helmet here; bright 
 without 5 worm-eaten within ? 
 
 Biorn. 
 
 Hold your peace, and mind your task! — Is the helmet 
 ready ? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 It shines like silver in the moonlight. 
 
 Biorn. 
 
 Then put it by. — See here; scrape the rust off the 
 sword. 
 
 Finn. 
 
 [Turning the sword over and examining it.] Is it 
 worth while? 
 
 Biorn. 
 What mean you ? 
 
 Finn. 
 The edge is gone. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 23 
 
 BlORN. 
 
 What's that to you? Give it me. — Here, take the 
 shield. 
 
 Finn. 
 [As before.] There is no grip to it! 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 [Mutters.] Let me get a grip on y o u 
 
 What now? 
 
 [Finn hums to himself foi- a while. 
 
 BlORN. 
 
 Finn. 
 
 An empty helmet, a sword with no edge, a shield with 
 no grip — so it has all conje to that. Who can blame 
 Lady Inger if she leaves such weapons to hang scoured 
 and polished on the walls, instead of rusting them in 
 Danish blood ? 
 
 BlOKN. 
 
 Folly! Is there not peace in the land? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 Peace ? Ay, when the peasant has shot away his last 
 arrow, and the wolf has reft the last lamb from the fold, 
 then is there peace between them. But 'tis a strange 
 friendship. Well, well; let that pass. 'Tis fitting, as I 
 said, that the harness hang bright in the hall; for you 
 know the old saw: "Call none a man but the knightly 
 man." So now that we have never a knight in the land. 
 
24 LADY INGER OF OSTRAI [act i 
 
 we have never a man; and where no man is, there must 
 women order things; therefore 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 Therefore— therefore I bid you hold your foul prate! 
 
 [Rises. 
 The evening wears on. Enough; you may hang the 
 helmet and armour in the hall again. 
 
 Finn. 
 [In a low voice.] Nay, best let it be till to-morrow. 
 
 BlORN. 
 
 What, do you fear the dark ? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 Not by day. And if so be I fear it at even, I am not 
 the only one. Ah, you may look; I tell you in the house- 
 folk's roon^ there is talk of many things. [Lower.] They 
 say that, night by night, a tall figure, clad in black, walks 
 the Banquet Hall. 
 
 BlOHN. 
 
 Old wives' tales! 
 
 Finn. 
 Ah, but they all swear 'tis true. 
 
 Biorn. 
 That I well believe. 
 
 Finn. 
 
 The strangest of all is that Lady Inger thinks the 
 same 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 25 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 [Starting.] Lady Inger? What does she think? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 What Lady Inger thinks? I warrant few can tell 
 that. But sure it is that she has no rest in her. See 
 you not how day by d»y she grows thinner and paler? 
 [Looks keenly at him.] They say she never sleeps — and 
 
 that it is because of the black figure 
 
 [While he is speaking, Elina Gyldenlove has ap- 
 peared in the half-open door on the left. She stops 
 and listens, unobserved. 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 And you believe such follies? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 Well, half and half. There be folk, too, that read 
 things another way. But that is pure malice, I'll be 
 bound. — Hearken, Biorn — know you the song that is 
 going round the country? 
 
 BiObn. 
 A song? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 Ay, 'tis on all folks' lips. 'Tis a shameful scurril 
 thing, for sure; yet it goes prettily. Just listen: 
 
 [Sings ifi a low voice. 
 
 Dame Inger sitteth in Ostrat fair, 
 She wraps her in costly furs — 
 
26 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 She decks her in velvet and ermine and vair, 
 
 Red gold are the beads that she twines in her hair — 
 
 But small peace in that soul of hers. 
 
 Dame Inger hath sold her to Denmark's lord. 
 She bringeth her folk 'neath the stranger's yoke — 
 In guerdon whereof- 
 
 [BioKN enraged, seizes him by the throat. Elina 
 Gyldenlove withdraws without having been seen. 
 
 BlOEN. 
 
 I will send you guerdonless to the foul fiend, if you 
 prate of Lady Inger but one unseemly word more. 
 
 Finn. 
 
 [Breaking from his gras'p.'\ Why— -did I make the 
 song? [The blast of a horn is heard from the right. 
 
 BlOHN. 
 
 Hark — what is that? 
 
 Finn. 
 A horn. Then there come guests to-night. 
 
 Biohn. 
 
 [At the window.] They are opening the gate. I hear 
 the clatter of hoofs in the courtyard. It must be a knight. 
 
 Finn. 
 A knight ? Nay, that can scarce be. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 27 
 
 BlOEN. 
 
 Why not ? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 Did you not say yourself: the last of our khighthood 
 is dead and gone ? \Goes out to the right. 
 
 BlOHN. 
 
 The accursed knave, with his prying and peering! 
 What avails all my striving to hide and hush things? 
 They whisper of her even now — ; soon all men will be 
 shouting aloud that 
 
 EUNA. 
 
 [Comes in again through the door on the left; looks 
 round her, and says with suppressed emotion:] Are you 
 alone, Biorn ? ^ 
 
 Bi6en. 
 
 Is it you. Mistress Elina? 
 
 EliUa. 
 
 Come, Biorn, tell me one of your stories; I know you 
 can tell others, than those that 
 
 Biohn. 
 A story ? Now — so late in the evening ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 If you count from the time when it grew dark at 
 Ostrat, then 'tis late indeed. 
 
m LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 What ails you? Has aught crossed you ? You -seem 
 so restless. 
 
 Elina. 
 Maybe so. 
 
 BlORN. 
 
 There is something amiss. I have hardly known you 
 this half year past. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Bethink you: this half year past my dearest sister 
 Lucia has been sleeping in the vault below. 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 That is not all, Mistress Elina — it is not that alone 
 that makes you now thoughtful and white and silent, 
 now restless and ill at ease, as you are to-night. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Not that alone, you think ? And wherefore not .'' Was 
 she not gentle and pure and fair as a summer night ? 
 Biorn, — I tell you, Lucia was dear to me as my life. 
 Have you forgotten how many a time, when we were 
 children, we sat on your knee in the winter evenings ? 
 You sang songs to us, and told us tales 
 
 Biorn. 
 Ay, then you were blithe and gay. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Ah, then, Biorn ! Then I lived a glorious life in fable- 
 land, and in my own imaginings. Can it be that the 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 29 
 
 sea-strand was naked then as now? If it was so, I 
 knew it not. 'Twas there I loved to go weaving all my 
 fair romances ; my heroes came from afar and sailed 
 again across the sea; I lived in their midst, and set forth 
 with them when they sailed away. [Sinks on a chair.] 
 Now I feel so faint and weary; I can live ao longer in 
 my tales. They are only — tales. [Rising, vehemently.] 
 Biorn, know you what has made me sick? A truth; a 
 hateful, hateful truth, that gnaws me day and night. 
 
 Biorn. 
 What mean you ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Do you remember how sometimes you would give us 
 good counsel and wise saws ? Sister Lucia followed them; 
 but I — ah, well-a-day! 
 
 Biorn. 
 [Consoling her.] Well, well ! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 I know it — I was proud, overweening! In all our 
 games, I would still be the Queen, because I was the 
 tallest, the fairest, the wisest! I know it! 
 
 Biorn. 
 That is true. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Once you took me by the hand and looked earnestly 
 at me, and said: "Be not proud of your fairness, or your 
 wisdom; but be proud as the mountain eagle as often 
 as you think: I am Inger Gyldenlove's daughter!" 
 
so LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 BiSrn. 
 And was it not matter enough for pride ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 You told me so often enough, Biorn! Oh, you told 
 me many a tale in those days. [Presses his hand.] 
 Thanks for them all!— Now, tell me one more; it might 
 make me light of heart again, as of old. 
 
 BlOKN. 
 
 You are a child no longer. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Nay, indeed! But let me dream that I am. — Come, 
 tell on! 
 
 [Throws herself into a chair. Biokn sits on the edge 
 of the high hearth. 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 Once upon a time there was a high-born knight 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Who has been listening restlessly in the direction of the 
 hall, seizes his arm and breaks out in a vehement whisper.] 
 Hush! No need to shout so loud; I can hear well! 
 
 BlORN. 
 
 [More softly.] Once upon a time there was a high- 
 born knight, of whom there went the strange report 
 
 [Elina hay rises, and Ustens in anxious suspense in 
 the direction of the hall. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 81 
 
 BiOrn. 
 Mistress Elina, — what ails you ? 
 
 Elina. 
 [Sits down again.] Me ? Nothing. Go on. 
 
 BlORN. 
 
 Well, as I was saying — did this knight but look straight 
 in a woman's eyes, never could she forget it after; her 
 thoughts must follow him wherever he went, and she 
 must waste away with sorrow. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 I have heard that tale.— Moreover, 'tis no tale you are 
 telling, for the knight you speak of is Nils Lykke, who 
 sits even now in the Council of Denmark 
 
 BlOHN. 
 
 Maybe so. 
 
 Elina. 
 Well, let it pass — go on! 
 
 BiOrn. 
 Now it happened once on a time 
 
 Elina. 
 [Rises suddenly,] Hush; be still! 
 
 BlORN. 
 
 What now ? What is the matter ? 
 
32 . LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Elina. 
 [Listening.] Do you hear ? 
 
 BlOHN. 
 
 What? 
 
 Elina. 
 It is there! Yes, by the cross of Christ, it is there! 
 
 BlOEN. 
 
 [Rises.] What is there ? Where ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 She herself — in the hall— — 
 
 [Goes hastily towards the hall. 
 
 BlORN. 
 
 [Following.] How can you think — ? Mistress Elina, 
 — go to your chamber! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Hush; stand still! Do not move; do not let her see 
 you! Wait — the moon is coming out. Can you not 
 see the black-robed figure ? 
 
 BlOKN. 
 
 By all the saints ! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Do you see — she turns Knut Alfson's picture to the 
 wall. Ha-ha; be sure it looks her too straight in the eyes! 
 
 BlOHN. 
 
 Mistress Elina, hear me! 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 33 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Going back towards the fireplace.] Now I know what 
 I know! 
 
 » BlOBN. 
 
 [To himself.] Then it is true! 
 
 Elina. 
 Who was it, Biorn ? Who was it ? 
 
 BiQbn. 
 You saw as plainly as I. 
 
 Elina. 
 Well ? Whom did I see ? 
 
 BlOHN. 
 
 You saw your mother. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Half to herself.] Night after night I have heard her 
 steps in there. I have heard her whispering and moan- 
 ing like a soul in pain. And what says the song — ? 
 Ah, now I know! Now I know that 
 
 BlOEN. 
 
 Hush! 
 
 [Lady Ingee GyldenlSve enters rapidly from the 
 hall, without noticing the others; she goes to the 
 window, draws the curtain, and gazes out as if 
 watching for some one on the high road; after a 
 while, she turns and goes slowly hack into the hall. 
 
34 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Elina. 
 [Softly, following her with her eyes.] White, white as 
 
 the dead ! 
 
 [An uproar of many voices is heard outside the door 
 on the right. 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 What can this be? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Go out and see what is amiss. 
 
 [Einab Huk, the bailiff, appears in the anteroom, 
 with a crowd of Retaineks and Peasants. 
 
 Einab Huk. 
 
 [In the doorway.] Straight in to her! And be net 
 abashed ! 
 
 BiQbn. 
 What seek you ? 
 
 EiNAR Huk. 
 Lady Inger herself. 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 Lady Inger? So late? 
 
 Einab Huk. 
 Late, but time enough, I wot. 
 
 The Peasants. 
 
 Yes, yes; she must hear us now! 
 
 [The whole rabble crowds into the room. At the same 
 moment Lady Ingbb appears in the doorway of the 
 hall. A sudden silence. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 35 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 What would you with me ? 
 
 EiNAK HuK. 
 We sought you, noble lady, to 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 Well — say on! 
 
 EiNAB HuK. 
 
 Why, we are not ashamed of our errand. In one word 
 — we come to pray you for weapons and leave 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Weapons and leave — ? And for what ? 
 
 EiNAR HuK. 
 
 There has come a rumour from Sweden that the people 
 of the Dales have risen against King Gustav 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 The people of the Dales ? 
 
 EiNAR HuK. 
 Ay, so the tidings run, and they seem sure enough. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Well — if it were so — what have you to do with the 
 Dale-folk's rising? 
 
 The Peasants. 
 
 We will join them! We will help! We will free 
 ourselves ! 
 
36 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Lady Ingkr. 
 [ To herself.] Can the time be come ? 
 
 kiNAB HUK. 
 
 From all our borderlands the peasants are pouring 
 across to the Dales. Even outlaws that have wandered 
 for years in the mountains are venturing down to the 
 homesteads again, and drawing men together, and whet- 
 ting their rusty swords. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [After a ■pause.] Tell me, men — have you thought well 
 of this? Have you counted the cost, if King Gustav's 
 men should win ? 
 
 BiQbn. 
 
 [Softly and imploringly to Lady Inger.] Count the 
 cost to the Danes if King Gustav's men should lose. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Evasively.] That reckoning is not for me to make. 
 
 [Turns to the people. 
 
 You know that King Gustav is sure of help from Den- 
 mark. King Frederick is his friend, and will never leave 
 him in the lurch 
 
 EiNAR HuK. 
 
 But if the people were now to rise all over Norway's 
 land ? — if we all rose as one man, nobles and peasants 
 together ? — Ay, Lady Inger Gyldenlove, the time we have 
 waited for is surely come. We have but to rise now to 
 drive the strangers from the land. ^ 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 37 
 
 The Peasants. 
 
 Ay, out with the Danish sheriffs! Out with the for- 
 eign masters! Out with the Councillors' lackeys! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [To herself.] Ah, there is metal in them; and yet, 
 yet ! 
 
 BlOEN. 
 
 [To himself.] She is of two minds. [To Elina.] 
 What say you now, Mistress Elina — have you not sinned 
 in misjudging your mother ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Biorn — if my eyes have lied to me, I could tear them 
 out of my head! 
 
 EiNAR HuK. 
 
 See you not, my noble lady,. King Gustav must be 
 dealt with first. . Were h i s power once gone, the Danes 
 cannot long hold this land 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 And then? 
 
 EiNAR HuK. 
 
 Then we shall be free. We shall have no more for- 
 eign masters, and can choose ourselves a king, as the 
 Swedes have done before us. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [With animation.] A king for ourselves! Are you 
 thinking of the Sture' stock .? 
 
 ' Pronounce StoorS. 
 
38 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 EiNAR HUK. 
 
 King Christiern and others after him have swept bare 
 our ancient houses. The best of our nobles are outlaws 
 on the mountain paths, if so be they still live. Never- 
 theless, it might still be possible to find one or other 
 shoot of the old stems . 
 
 Lady Ingeb 
 
 [Hastily.] Enough, Einar Huk, enough! [To ker- 
 sey.] Ah, my dearest hope! 
 
 [Turns to the Peasants and Retainers. 
 
 I have warned you, now, as well as I can. I have told 
 you how great is the risk you run. But if you are fixed 
 in your purpose, 'twere folly in me to forbid what I have 
 no power to prevent. 
 
 Einar Huk. 
 Then we have your leave to ? > 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 You have your own firm will; take counsel with that. 
 If it be as you say, that you are daily harassed and op- 
 pressed I know but little of these matters. I will 
 
 not know more ! What can I, a lonely woman — ? Even 
 if you were to plunder the Banquet Hall^and there's 
 many a good weapon on the walls — you are the masters 
 at Ostrat to-night. You must do as seems good to you. 
 Good-night! 
 
 [Loud cries of jcfy from the multitude. Candles are 
 lighted; the Retainers bring out weapons of dif- 
 ferent kinds from the hall. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 39 
 
 BlOKN. 
 
 [Seizes Lady Inger's hand as she is going.] Thanks, 
 my noble and high-souled mistress! I, that have known 
 you from childhood up — I have never doubted you. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 Hush, Biorn — 'tis a dangerous game I have ventured 
 this night. The others stake only their lives; but I, trust 
 me, a thousandfold more! 
 
 Biorn. 
 
 How mean you? Do you fear for your power and 
 your favour with ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 My power? O God in Heaven! 
 
 A Retainer. 
 
 [Comes from the hall with a large sword.] See, here's 
 a real good wolf's^tooth! With this will I flay the blood- 
 suckers' lackeys! 
 
 EiNAR HuK. 
 
 [To another.] What is that you have found? 
 
 The Retainer. 
 The breastplate they call Herlof Hyttefad's. 
 
 EiNAR HuK. 
 
 'Tis too good for such as you. Look, here is the shaft 
 of Sten Sture's' lance; hang the breastplate upon it, and 
 we shall- have the noblest standard heart can desire. 
 ' Pronounce Stayn StoorS. 
 
40 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Finn. 
 
 [Comes from the door on the left, with a letter in his 
 hand, and goes towards Lady Inger.] I have sought you 
 through all the house 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 What would you ? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 [Hands her the letter.] A messenger is come from 
 Trondhiem' with a letter for you. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 Let me see! [Opening the letter.] From Trondhiem ? 
 What can it be ? [Runs through the letter.] O God ! 
 
 From him! And here in Norway 
 
 [Reads on with strong emotion, while the men go on 
 bringing out arms from the hall. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [To herself] He is coming here. He is coming here 
 to-night! — Ay, then 'tis with our wits we must fight, not 
 with the sword. 
 
 EiNAB HuK. 
 
 Enough, enough, good fellows; we are well armed 
 now. Set we forth now on our way! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 \With a sudden change of tone.] No man shall leave 
 my house to-night! 
 
 ' Pronounce Tronyem. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 41 
 
 EiNAH HUK. 
 
 But the wind is fair, noble lady; 'twill take us quickly 
 up the fiord, and 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 It shall be as I have said. 
 
 EiNAR HuK. 
 Are we to wait till to-morrow, then ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Till to-morrow, and longer still. No armed man shall 
 go forth from Ostrat yet awhile. 
 
 [Signs of displeasure among the crowd. 
 
 Some of the Peasants. 
 We will go all the same. Lady Inger! 
 
 The Cry Spreads. 
 Ay, ay; we will go! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Advancing a step towards them.] Who dares to move ? 
 
 [A silence. After a moment's pause, she adds: 
 
 I have thought for you. What do you common folk 
 
 know of the country's needs ? How dare you judge^ of 
 
 such things .'' You must e'en bear your oppressions and 
 
 burdens yet awhile. Why murmur at that, when you 
 
 see that we, your leaders, are as ill bested as you ? 
 
 Take all the weapons back to the hall. You shall know 
 my further will hereafter. Go! 
 
 [The Retainers take back the arms, and the whole 
 crowd then withdraws by the door on the right. 
 
42 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Softly to BioBN.] Say you still that I have sinned in 
 misjudging — the Lady of Ostrat? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Beckons *.o Biobn, and says.] Have a guest-chamber 
 ready. 
 
 Biobn. 
 
 It is virell, Lady Inger! 
 
 Ladt Ingeb. 
 And let the gate be open to whoever shall knock. 
 
 Biobn. 
 But ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 The gate open 
 
 Biobn. 
 The gate open. • [Goes out to the right. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [To Elina, who has already reached the door on the 
 left.] Stay here! Elina — my child — I have some- 
 thing to say to you alone. 
 
 Elina. 
 I hear you. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Elina you think evil of your mother. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OP OSTRIT 43 
 
 Elina. 
 
 I think, to my sorrow, what your deeds have forced 
 me to think. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 And you answer as your bitter spirit bids you. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Who has filled my spirit with bitterness? From my 
 childhood I had been wont to look up to you as a great 
 and high-souled woman. 'Twas in your likeness that I 
 pictured the women of the chronicljes and the Book of 
 Heroes. I thought the Lord God himself had set his 
 seal on your brow, and marked you out as the leader 
 of the helpless and the oppressed. Knights and nobles 
 sang your praise in the feast-hall; and even the peasants, 
 far and near, called you the cofintry's pillar and its hope. 
 All thought that through you the good times were to 
 come again! All thought that through you a new day 
 was to dawn over the land! The night is still here; 
 and I scarce know if through you I dare look for any 
 morning. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 'Tis easy to see whence you have learnt such venom- 
 ous words. You havfe let yourself give ear to what the 
 thoughtless rabble mutters and murmurs about things it 
 can little judge of. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 "Truth is in the people's mouth," was your word when 
 they praised you in speech and song. 
 
44 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Maybe so. But if indeed I chose to sit here idle, 
 though it was my part to act — think you not that such 
 a choice were burden enough for me, without your add- 
 ing to its weight? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 The weight I add to your burden crushes me no less 
 than you. Lightly and freely I drew the breath of life, 
 so long as I had you to believe in. For my pride is my 
 life; and well might I have been proud, had you remained 
 what once you were. 
 
 I Lady Inger. 
 
 And what proves to you that I have not? Elina — 
 how know you so surely that you are not doing your 
 mother wrong? 
 
 Elina. 
 ■ [Vehemently.] Oh, that I were! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Peace! You have no right to call your mother to ac- 
 count. — With a single word I could ; but 'twould be 
 
 an ill word for you to hear; you must await what time 
 shall bring; maybe that 
 
 Elina. 
 [Turns to go.] Sleep well, my mother! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Hesitates.] Nay — stay with me; I have still some- 
 what Come nearer; — you must hear me, Elina! 
 
 [Sits down by the table in front of the windoiu. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 45 
 
 Elina. 
 I hear you. 
 
 Lady. Inger. 
 
 For as silent as you are, I know well that you often 
 long to be gone from here. Ostrat is too lonely and life- 
 less for you. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Do you wonder at that, my mother ? 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 It rests with you whether all this shall henceforth be 
 changed. 
 
 Elina. 
 How so ? 
 
 Lady In«eb. 
 
 Listen. — I look for a guest to-night. 
 
 Elina. 
 [Comes nearer.] A guest ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 A guest, who must remain a stranger to all. None 
 must know whence he comes or whither he goes. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Throws herself, with a cry of joy, at her mother's feet, 
 and seizes her hands.] My mother! My mother! For- 
 give me, if you can, all the wrong I have done you! 
 
46 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Lady Ingeb. ^ 
 
 What do you mean? Eliha, I do not understand 
 you. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Then they were all deceived! You are still true at 
 heart! 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 Rise, rise and tell me 
 
 Elina. 
 Think you I do not know who the stranger is? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 You know? And yet ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Think you the gates of Ostrat shut so close that never 
 a whisper of the country's woe can slip through them? 
 Think you I do not know that the heir of many a noble 
 line wanders outlawed, without rest or shelter, while 
 Danish masters lord it in the home of his fathers ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 And what then ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 I know well that many a high-born kpight is hunted 
 through the woods like a hungry wolf. No hearth has 
 he to rest by, no bread to eat 
 
ACTi] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 47 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 [Coldly.] Enough! Now I understand you. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Continuing.] And that is why the gates of Ostrat 
 must stand open by night! That is why he must remain 
 a stranger to all, this guest of whom none must know 
 whence he comes or whither he goes! You are setting 
 at naught the harsh decree that forbids you to harbour 
 or succour the outlaw 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 Enough, I say! 
 
 [After a short silence, adds with an effort: 
 You mistake, Elina — 'tis no outlaw I look for. 
 
 Elina. 
 [Rises.] Then I have understood you ill indeed. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Listen to me, my child; but tHink as you listen; if 
 indeed you can tame that wild spirit of yours. 
 
 Elina. 
 I am tame, till you have spoken. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Attend, then, to what I have to tell you. — I have 
 sought, so far as lay in my power, to keep you in igno- 
 rance of all our griefs and miseries. What could it avail 
 
48 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 to fill your young heart with wrath and care ? 'Tis not 
 women's weeping and wailing that can deliver us; we 
 need the courage and strength of men. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Who has told you that, when courage and strength 
 are needed, I shall be found wanting ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Hush, child; — I' might take you at your word. 
 
 Elina. 
 How mean you, my mother .'' 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 I might call on you for both; I might ; but let me 
 
 say my say out first. 
 
 Know then that the time seems now to be drawing 
 nigh, towards which the Danish Council have been work- 
 ing for many a year — the time, I mean, for them to 
 strike thfe last blow at our rights and our freedom. 
 Therefore must we n»w • 
 
 Elina. 
 [Eagerly.] Openly rebel, my mother? 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 No; we must gain breathing-time. The Council is 
 now assembled at Copenhagen, considering how best to 
 go to work. Most of them hold, 'tis said, that there can 
 be no end to dissensions till Norway and Denmark are 
 one; for should we still possess our rights as a free land 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 49 
 
 when the time comes to choose the next king, 'tis most 
 like that the feud will break out openly. Now the Danish 
 councillors would hinder this 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Ay, they would hinder it — ! But are we to endure 
 such things ? Are we to look on quietly while ? 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 No, we will not endure it. But to take up arms — to 
 declare open war — what would come of that, so long as 
 we are not united ? And were we ever less united in 
 this land than we are even now.'' — No, if aught is to be 
 accomplished, it must be secretly and in silence. Even 
 as I said, we must have time to draw breath. In the 
 South j a good part of the nobles are for the Dane; but 
 here in the North they are still in doubt. Therefore has 
 King Frederick sent hither one of his most trusted coun- 
 cillors, to assure himself with his own eyes how we stand 
 affected. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [In suspense.] Well — and then ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 He is the guest I look for to-night. 
 
 Elina. 
 He comes hither? And to-night? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 A trading ship brought him to Trondhiem yesterday. 
 News has just reached me of his approach; he may be 
 here within the hour. 
 
50 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Elina. 
 
 And you do not bethink you, my mother, how 'twill 
 endanger your fame thus to receive the Danish envoy ? 
 Do not the people already, look on you with distrustful 
 eyes? How can you hope that, when the time comes, 
 they will let you rule and guide them, if it be known 
 
 that 
 
 Lady Ingee. 
 
 Fear not. All this I have fully weighed; but there is 
 no danger. His errand in Norway is a secret; he has 
 come unknown to Trondhiem, and unknown shall he be 
 our guest at Ostrat. 
 
 Elina. 
 And the name of this Danish lord ? 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 It sounds well, Elina; Denmark has scarce a nobler 
 name. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 But what then do you purpose ? I cannot yet grasp 
 your meaning. • 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 You will soon understand. — Since we cannot trample 
 on the serpent, we must bind it. 
 
 Elina. 
 Take heed that it burst not your bonds. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 It rests with you to tighten them as you will. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 51 
 
 Elina. 
 With me ? 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 I have long seen that Ostrat is as a cage to you. The 
 young falcon chafes behind the iron bars. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 My wings are clipped. Even if you set me free — 
 'twould avail me little. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 I 
 
 Your wings are not clipped, save by your own will. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Will ? My will is in your hands. Be what you once 
 were, and I too • 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Enough, enough. Hear me further. — It would scarce 
 break your heart to leave Ostrat ? 
 
 Elina. 
 Maybe not, my mother! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 You told me once, that you lived your happiest life in 
 your tales and histories. What if that life were to be 
 yours once more? 
 
 Elina. 
 What mean you ? 
 
52 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Elina — if a mighty noble were to come and lead you to 
 his castle, where you should find damsels and squires, 
 silken robes and lofty halls awaiting you ? 
 
 Elina. 
 A noble, you say? 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 A noble. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [More softly.] And the Danish envoy comes hither 
 to-night ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 To-night. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 If so be, then I fear to read the meaning of your words. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 There is naught to fear if you misread them not. It 
 is far from my thought to put force upon you. You shall 
 choose for yourself in this matter, and follow your own 
 rede. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Comes a step nearer.] Know you the tale of the 
 mother who drove across the hills by night, with her 
 little children in the sledge ? The wolves were on her 
 track; 'twas life or death with her; — and one by one she 
 cast out her little ones, to win time and save herself. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT S3 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Nursery tales! A mother would tear the heart from 
 her breast before she would cast her child to the wolves! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Were I not my mother's daughter, I would say you 
 were right. But you are like that mother; one by one 
 have you cast out your daughters to the wolves. The 
 eldest went first. Five years ago Merete' went forth 
 from Ostrat; now she dwells in Bergen, and is Vinzents 
 Lunge's^ wife. But think you she is happy as the 
 Danish noble's lady? Vinzents Lunge is mighty, well- 
 nigh as a king; Merete has damsels and squires, silken 
 robes and lofty halls; but the day has no sunshine for 
 her, and the night no rest; for she has never loved him. 
 He came hither and he wooed her, for she was the great- 
 est heiress in Norway, and Jfwas then needful for him 
 to gain a footing in the land. I know it; I know it well! 
 Merete bowed to your will; she went with the stranger 
 lord. — But what has it cost her? More tears than a 
 mother should wish to answer for at the day of reck- 
 oning ! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 I know my reckoning, and I fear it not. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Your reckoning ends not here. Where is Lucia, your 
 second child ? 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 Ask God, who took her. 
 
 ' Pronounce Mayrayte. ' Pronounce Loonghe. 
 
54 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Elina. 
 
 'Tis you I ask; 'tis you must answer for her young life. 
 She was glad as a bird in spring when she sailed from 
 Ostrat to be Merete's guest. A year passed, and she 
 stood in this room once more; but her cheeks were white, 
 and death had gnawed deep into her breast. Ah, I 
 startle you, my mother! You thought the ugly secret 
 was buried with her; — but she told me all. A courtly 
 knight had won her heart. He would have wedded her. 
 You knew that her honour was at stake; yet yoUr will 
 never bent — and your child had to die. You see, I know 
 all! 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 All? Then she told you his name? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 His name? No; his name she did not tell me. She 
 shrank from his name as though it stung her; — she never 
 uttered it. 
 
 Lady Ingek. ' 
 [Relieved, to hersSy.] Ah, then you do not know all- 
 
 Eiina — 'tis true that the whole of this matter was well 
 known to me. But there is one thing it seems you have 
 overlooked. The lord whom Lucia met in Bergen was 
 a Dane 
 
 Elina. 
 That, too, I know. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 And his love was a lie. With guile and soft speeches 
 he had ensnared her. 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT m 
 
 Elina. 
 
 I know it; but nevertheless she loved him; and had 
 you had a mother's heart, your daughter's honour had 
 been more to you than all. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Not more than her happiness. Think you that, with 
 Merete's lot before my eyes, I could sacrifice my second 
 child to a man that loved her not? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Cunning words may beguile many, but they beguile 
 not me 
 
 Think not I know nothing of all that is passing in 
 our land ? I understand your counsels but too well. I 
 know that in you the Danish lords have no true friend. 
 It may be that you hate them; but you fear them too. 
 When you gave Merete to Vinzents Lunge, the Danes 
 held the mastery on all sides throughout our land. Three 
 years later, when you forbade Lucia to wed the man to 
 whom, though he had deceived her, she had given her 
 life — things were far different then. The King's Danish 
 governors had shamefully misused the common people, 
 and you deemed it not wise to link yourself still more 
 clgsely to the foreign tyrants. 
 
 And what have you done to avenge her that was sent 
 so young to her grave .'' You have done nothing. Well 
 then, I will act in your stead ; I will avenge all the shame 
 they have brought upon our people and our house! 
 
 Lady; Ingek. 
 You ? What will you do ? 
 
56 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i 
 
 Elina. 
 
 I will go my way, even as you go yours. What I 
 shall do I myself know.npt; but I feel within me the 
 strength to dare all for our righteous cause. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Then have you a hard fight before you. I once 
 promised as you do now — and my hair has grown grey 
 under the burden of that promise. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Good-night! Your guest will soon be here, and at 
 that meeting I should be one too many. 
 
 It may be there is yet time for you ; well, God 
 
 strengthen and guide you on your path! Forget not 
 that the eyes of many thousands are fixed on you. 
 Think on Merete, weeping late and early over her wasted 
 life. Think on Lucia, sleeping in her black coffin. 
 
 And one thing more. Forget not that in the game 
 you play this night, your stake is your last child. 
 
 [Goes out to the left. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Looks after her awhile.] My last child ? You know 
 
 not how true was that word But the stake is not 
 
 ^ly child only. God help me, I am playing to-night for 
 the whole of Norway's land. 
 
 Ah — is not thai some one riding through the gateway? 
 
 [Listens at the window. 
 
 No; not yet. Only the wind; it blows cold as the 
 grave 
 
 Has God a right to do this ? — To make me a woman 
 — and then to lay on my shoulders a man's work? 
 
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 57 
 
 For I h a V e the welfare of the country in my hands. 
 It i s in my power to make them rise as one man. They 
 look to m e for the signal ; and if I give it not now — 
 it may never be given. 
 
 To delay ? To sacrifice the many for the sake of one ? 
 Were it not better if I could — — ? No, no, no — I will 
 not ! I c a n n o t ! 
 
 {Steals a glance towards the Banquet Hall, but turns 
 away again as if in dread, and whispers: 
 I can see them in there now. Pale spectres — dead 
 ancestors — fallen kinsfolk. — Ah, those eyes that pierce 
 me from every corner! 
 
 [Makes a gesture of repulsion, and cries: 
 Sten Sture! Knut Alfson! Olaf Skaktavl! Back- 
 back! — I cannot do this! 
 
 [A Stranger, strongly built, and with grizzled hair 
 and beard, has entered from the Banquet Hail. He 
 is dressed in a torn lOmibskin tunic; his weapons 
 are rusty. 
 
 The Stranger. 
 
 {Stops in the doorway, and says in a low voice.] Hail 
 to you, Inger Gyldenlove! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Turns with a scream.] Ah, Christ in heaven save 
 me! 
 
 [Falls back into a chair. The Stranger stands gaz- 
 ing at her, motionless, leaning on his sword. 
 
ACT SECOND 
 
 The room at Ostrat, as in the first Act. 
 
 Lady Inger Gyldenlove is seated at the table on the 
 right, by 'the window. Olaf Skaktavl is standing 
 a little way from her. Their faces show that they 
 have been engaged in a heated discussion. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 For the last time, Inger Gyldenlove — you are not to 
 be moved from your purpose ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 I can do nought else. And my counsel to you is: do 
 as I do. If it be Heaven's will that Norway perish utter- 
 ly, perish it must, for all we may do to save it. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 And think you I can content my heart with that be- 
 lief ? Shall I sit and look idly on, now that the hour is 
 come ? Do you forget the reckoning I have against 
 them? They have robbed me of my lands, and par- 
 celled them out among themselves. My son, my only 
 child, the last of my race, they have slaughtered like a 
 dog. Myself they have outlawed and hunted through 
 forest and fell these twenty years. — Once and again 
 have folk whispered of my death; but this I believe, 
 
 56 
 
ACT 11] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 59 
 
 that they shall not lay me beneath the sod before I have 
 seen my vengeance. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Then is there a long life before you. What have you 
 in mind to do? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Do? How should I know what I will do? It has 
 never been my part to plot and plan. That is where 
 you must help me. You have the wit for that. I have 
 but my sword and my two arms. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Your sword is rusted, Olaf Skaktavl! All the swords 
 in Norway are rusted. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 • 
 
 That is doubtless why some folk fight, only with their 
 tongues. — Inger Gyldenlove — great is the change in you. 
 Time was when the heart of a man beat in your breast. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Put me not in mind of what was. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 'Tis for that very purpose I am here. You shall 
 hear me, even if 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Be it so then; but be brief; for — I must say it — this is 
 no place of safety for you. 
 
60 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [actii 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Ostrat is no place of safety for an outlaw? That I 
 have long known. But you forget that an outlaw is 
 unsafe wheresoever he may wander. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Speak then; I will not hinder you. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 'Tis nigh on thirty years now since first I saw you. It 
 was at Akershus' in the house of Knut Alfson and his 
 wife. You were little more than a child then; yet were 
 you bold as the soaring falcon, and wild and headstrong 
 too at times. Many were the wooers around you. I 
 too held you dear — dear as no woman before or since. 
 But you cared for nothing, thought of nothing, save your 
 country's evil case and its great need. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 I counted but fifteen summers then — remember that! 
 And was it not as though a frenzy had seized us all in 
 those days ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Call it what you will; but one thing I know — even 
 the old and sober men among us thought it written in 
 the counsels of the Lord on high that you were she 
 who should break our thraldom and win us all our 
 rights again. And more: you yourself then thought a^s 
 we did. 
 
 ' Pronounce Ahkers-hoos. 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 61 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 'Twas a sinful thought, Olaf Skaktavl. 'Twas my 
 proud heart, and not the- Lord's call, that spoke in me. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 You could have been the chosen one had you but 
 willed it. You came of the noblest blood in Norway; 
 power and riches were soon to be yours; and you had an 
 ear for the cries of anguish — then! 
 
 Do you remember that afternoon when Henrik Krum- 
 medike and the Danish fleet anchored off Akershus? 
 The captains of the fleet offered terms of peace, and, 
 trusting to the safe-conduct, Knut Alfson rowed on 
 board. Three hours later, we bore him through the 
 castle gate 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 A corpse; a corpse! ' 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 The best heart in Norway burst, when Krummedike's 
 hirelings struck him down. Methinks I still can see 
 the long procession that passed into the Banquet Hall, 
 heavily, two by two. There he lay on his bier, white 
 as a spring cloud, with the axe-cleft in his brow. I may 
 safely say that the boldest men in Norway were gathered 
 there that night. Lady Margrete stood by her dead 
 husband's head, and we swore as one man to venture 
 lands and life to avenge this last misdeed and all that 
 had gone before. — Inger Gyldenlove, — who was it that 
 burst through the circle of men? A maiden — almost a 
 
62 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii 
 
 child — with fire in her eyes and her voice half choked 
 with tears. — What was it she swore? Shall I repeat 
 your words ? 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 I swore what the rest of you swore; neither more 
 nor less. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 You remember your oath — and yet you have for- 
 gotten it. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 And how did the others keep their promise ? I speak 
 not of you, Olaf Skaktavl, but of your friends, all Nor- 
 way's nobles ? Not one of them, in all these years, has 
 had the courage to be a man; yet they lay it to my charge 
 that I am a woman. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 I know what you would say. Why have they bent 
 to the yoke, and not defied the tyrants to the last ? 'Tis 
 but too true; there is base metal enough in our noble 
 houses nowadays. But had they held together — who 
 knows what then might have been? And you could 
 have held them together, for before you all had bowed. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 My answer were easy enough, but 'twould scarce con- 
 tent you. So let us leave speaking of what cannot be 
 changed. Tell me rather what has brought you to 
 Ostrat. Do you need harbour? Well, I will try to 
 hide you. If you would have aught else, speak out; you 
 shall find me ready 
 
Acaii] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 63 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 For twenty years have I been homeless. In the moun- 
 tains of Jsemteland my hair has grown grey. My dwell- 
 ing has been with wolves and bears. — You see. Lady 
 Inger — / need you not; but both nobles and people stand 
 in sore need of you. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 The old burden. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Ay, it sounds but ill in your ears, I know; yet hear 
 it you must, for all that. In brief, then: I come from 
 Sweden: troubles are brewing: the Dales are ready to 
 rise. / 
 
 Lady Ingeb. * 
 
 I know it. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Peter Kanzler* is with us — secretly, you understand. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 [Starting.] Peter Kanzler? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 'Tis he that has sent me to Ostrat. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 [Rises.] Peter Kanzler, say you ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 He himself; — but mayhap you no longer know him? 
 
 ' That is, Peter the Chancellor. 
 
64 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Half to herself. \ Only too well ! — But tell me, I pray 
 you, — what message do you bring ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 When the rumour of the rising reached the border 
 mountains, where I then was, I set off at once into Swe- 
 den. 'Twas not hard to guess that Peter Kanzlei* had 
 a finger in the game. I sought him out and offered to 
 stand by him; — he knew me of old, as you know, and 
 knew that he could trust me; so he has sent me hither. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [Impatiently.] Yes, yes, — he sent you hither to ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 [With secrecy.] Lady Inger — a stranger comes to 
 Ostrat to-night. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [Surprised.] What? Know you that ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Assuredly I know it. I know all. 'Twas to meet 
 him that Peter Kanzler sent me hither. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 To meet him ? Impossible, Olaf Skaktavl, — impos- 
 sible. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 'Tls as I tell you. If he be not already come, he will 
 soon 
 
ACT 11] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 65 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Doubtless, doubtless; but 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Then you knew of his coming ? 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 Ay, surely. He sent me a message. 'Twas therefore 
 they opened to you as soon as you knocked. 
 
 Olap Skaktavl. 
 
 [Listens.] Hush!-— ^some one is riding along the road. 
 [Goes to the window.] They are opening the gate. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Looks out.] It is a knight and his attendant. They 
 are dismounting in the courtyfird. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 'Tis he, then. His name? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 You know not his name ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Peter Kanzler refused to tell it me. He would say no 
 more than that I should find him at Ostrat the third 
 evening after Martinmas 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Ay; even to-night. 
 
66 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act n 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 He was to bring letters with him; and froiQ them, and 
 from you, I was to learn who he is. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Then let me lead you to your chamber. You have 
 need of rest and. refreshment. You shall soon have 
 speech with the stranger. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Well, be it as you will. [Both go out to the left. 
 
 [After a short pause, Finn enters cautiously by ■ the 
 door on the right, looks round the room, and peeps 
 into the Banquet Hall; he then goes back to the 
 door, and makes a sign to some one outside. Im- 
 mediately after, enter Councillor Nils Lykke 
 and the Swedish Commander, Jens Bielke. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Softly.] No one ? 
 
 Finn. 
 [In the same tone.] No one, master! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 And we may depend on you in all things ? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 The commandant in Trondhiem has ever given me 
 a name for trustiness. 
 
ACT 11] LADY INGER OP OSTRAT 67 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 'Tis well; he has said as much to me. First of all, 
 then — has there come any stranger to Ostrat to-night, 
 before us? 
 
 ' Finn. 
 
 Ay; a stranger came an hour since. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Softly, to Jens Bielke.] He is here. [Turns again 
 to Finn.] Would you know him again? Have you 
 seen him ? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 Nay; none has seen him, that I know, but the gate- 
 keeper. He was brought at once to Lady Inger, and 
 she 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Well ? What of her ? He is not gone again already ? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 No; but it seems she holds him hidden in one of her 
 own rooms; for 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 It is well. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 [Whispers.] Then the first thing is to put a guard on 
 the gate; so are we sure of him. 
 
68 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [actii 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [With a smile.] H'm! [To Finn.] Tell me— is there 
 any way of leaving the castle, save by the gate ? Gape 
 not at me so ! I mean^eari one escape from Ostrat un- 
 seen, though the castle gate be barred ? 
 
 Finn. 
 
 Nay, that I know not. 'Tis true they talk of secret 
 ways in the vaults beneath; but no one knows them save 
 Lady Inger — and mayhap Mistress Elina. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 The devil! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 It is well. You may go. 
 
 Finn. 
 
 Should you need me in aught again, you have but to 
 open the second door on the right in the Banquet Hall, 
 and I shall presently be at hand. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Good. [Points to the entrance-door. Finn goes out. 
 
 Jens , Bielke. 
 
 Now, by my soul, dear friend and brother — this cam- 
 paign is like to end but scurvily for both of us. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [With a smile.] Oh — not for me, I hope. 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 69 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 Say you so ? First of all, there is little honour to be 
 won in hunting an overgrown whelp like this Nils Sture. 
 Are we to think him mad or in his sober senses after the 
 pranks he has played ? First he breeds b^d blood among 
 the peasants; promises them help and all their hearts can 
 desire; — ^and then, when it comes to the pinch, off he runs 
 to hide behind a petticoat! 
 
 Moreover, to say truth, I repent that I followed your 
 counsel and went not my own way. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [To himself.] Your repentance comes somewhat late, 
 my brother! 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 For, let me tell you, I have never loved digging at a 
 badger's earth. I looked for quite other sport. Here 
 have I ridden all the way from Jaemteland with my 
 horsemen, and have got me a warrant from the Trond- 
 hiem commandant to search for the rebel wheresoever I 
 please. All his tracks point towards Ostrat 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 He is here! He is here, I tell you! 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 Were it not liker, in that case, that we had found the 
 gate barred and well guarded ? Would that we had ; 
 then could I have found use for my men-atrarms 
 
70 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 But instead, the gate is very courteously thrown op^n 
 to us. Mark now — if Inger Gyldenlove's fame belie her 
 not, I waif rant she will not let her guests lack for either 
 meat or drink. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 Ay, to turn aside from our errand! And what wild 
 whim was that of yours to have me leave my horsemen 
 half a league from the castle! Had we come in force 
 
 . Nils Lykke. 
 
 She had made us none the less welcome for that. 
 But mark Well that then our coming had made a stir. 
 The peasants round about had hel4 it for an outrage 
 against Lady Inger; she had risen high in their favour 
 once more — and with that, look you, we were ill served. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 Maybe so. But what am I to do now? Count 
 Sture is in Ostrat, you say. Ay, but how does that profit 
 me ? Be sure Lady Inger Gyldenlove has as many hid- 
 ing-places as the fox, and more than one outlet to them. 
 You and I, alone, may go snuffing about here as long as 
 we please. I would the devil had the whole affair! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Well, then, my friend — if you like not the turn your 
 ^rrand has taken, you have but to leave the field to me. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 To you ? . What will you do ? 
 
ACTii] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 71 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Caution and cunning may in this matter prove of 
 more avail than force of arms. — And to say truth,, Cap- 
 tain Jens Bielke — something of the sort has been in my 
 mind ever since we met in Trondhiem yesterday. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 Was that why you persuaded me to leave the men-at- 
 arms ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Both your purpose at Ostrat and mine could best be 
 served without them; and so 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 The foul fiend seize you — I had almost said! And 
 me to boot! Might I not hav^ known that there is guile 
 in all your dealings? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Be sure I shall need all my guile here, if I am to face 
 my foe with even weapons. And let me tell you, 'tis 
 of the utmost moment to me that I acquit me of my 
 mission secretly and well. You must know that when I 
 set forth I was scarce in favour with my lord the King. 
 He held me in suspicion; though I dare swear I halve 
 served him as well as any man could, in more than one 
 ticklish charge. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 That you may safely boa^t. God and all men know 
 you for the craftiest devil in all thte three kingdoms. 
 
n LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act n 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I thank you! Though, after all, 'tis not much to say. 
 But this present errand I count as indeed a crowning 
 test of my powers; for here I have to outwit a woman 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 Ha-ha-ha! In that art you have long since given 
 crowning proofs of your skill, dear brother. Think you 
 we in Sweden know not the song — 
 
 Fair maidens a-many they sigh and they pine: 
 "Ah God, that Nils Lykke were mine, mine, mine!" 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Alas, 'tis women of twenty and thereabouts that ditty 
 speaks of. Lady Inger Gyldenlove is nigh on fifty, and 
 wily to boot beyond all women. 'Twill be no light mat- 
 ter to overmatch her. But it must be done — at any 
 cost. Should I contrive to win certain advantages over 
 her that the King has long desired, I can reckon on the 
 embassy to France next spring. You know that I spent 
 three years at the University in Paris ? My whole soul 
 is set on coming thither again, most of all if I can appear 
 in lofty place, a king's ambassador. — Well, then — is it 
 agreed — do you leave Lady Inger to me ? Remember — 
 when you were last at Court in Copetahagen, I made way 
 for you with more than one fair lady 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 Nay, truly now — ^that generosity cost you little; one 
 and all of them were at your beck and call. But let that 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 73 
 
 pass; now that I have begun amiss in this matter, I had 
 as lief that you should take it on your shoulders. Yet 
 one thing you must promise — if the young Count Sture 
 be in Ostrat, you will deliver him into my hands, dead 
 or alive! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You shall have' him all alive. I, at any rate, mean 
 not to kill him. But now you must ride back and join 
 your people. Keep guard on the road. Should I mark 
 aught that mislikes me, you shall know it forthwith. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 Good, good. But how am I to get out ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 The fellow that brought us in will show the way. But 
 go quietly 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 Of course, of course. Well — good fortune to you! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Fortune has never failed me in a war with women. 
 Haste you now! [Jens Bielke goes out to the right. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Stands still for awhile; then walks about the room, 
 looking round him; then, he says softly:] At last, then, I 
 am at Ostrat — the ancient hall whereof a child, two 
 years ago, told me so much. 
 
74 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii 
 
 Lucia. Ay, two years ago she was still a child. And 
 now — now she is dead. [Hums with a. half-smile.] 
 
 "Blossoms plucked are blossoms withered " 
 
 [Looks round him again. 
 
 Ostrat. 'Tis as though I had seen it all before; as 
 
 though I were at home here. — In there is the Banquet 
 
 Hall. And underneath is — the grave- vault. It must be 
 
 there that Lucia lies. 
 
 [In a lower voice, half-seriously, half with forced 
 gaiety. 
 Were I timorous, I might well find myself fancying 
 that when I set foot within Ostrat gate she turned about 
 in her coffin; as I crossed the courtyard she lifted the 
 lid;, and when I named her name but now, 'twas as 
 though a voice summoned her forth from the grave- 
 vault. — Maybe she is even now groping her way up the 
 stairs. The face-cloth blinds her, but she gropes on and 
 on in spite of it. 
 
 Now she has reached the Banquet Hall! She stands 
 watching me from behind the door! 
 
 [Turns his head backwards over one shoulder, nods, 
 
 and says aloud: 
 
 Come nearer, Lucia! Talk to me a little! Your 
 
 mother keeps me waiting. 'Tis tedious waiting — and 
 
 you have helped me to while away many a tedious 
 
 hour 
 
 [Passes his hand over his forehead, and takes one or 
 two turns up and down. 
 Ah, there! — Right, right; there is the deep curtained 
 window. 'Tis there that Inger Gyldenlove is wont to 
 stand gazing out over the road, as though looking for 
 one that never comes. In there — [looks towards the door 
 on the left] — somewhere in there is Sister Elina's cham- 
 ber. Elina ? Ay, Elina is her name. 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 75 
 
 Can it be that she is so rare a being — so wise and so 
 brave as Lucia fancied her? Fair, too, they say. But 
 for a wedded "wife — ? I shoul^l not have written so 
 
 plainly. 
 
 [Lost in thought; he is on the point of sitting down by 
 
 the table, but stands up again. 
 
 How will Lady Inger receive me? — She will scarce 
 
 burn the castle over our heads, or slip me through a 
 
 trap-door. A stab from behind — ? No, not that way 
 
 either [Listens towards the hall. 
 
 Aha! 
 
 [Lady Ingeb Gyldenlove enters from the hall. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [Coldly.] My greeting to you, Sir Councillor 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 « 
 [Bows deeply.] Ah — the Lady of Ostrat! 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 and my thanks that you have forewarned me of 
 
 your visit. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I could do no less. I had reason to think that ray 
 coming might surprise you 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 Truly, Sir Councillor, therein you judged aright. 
 Nils Lykke was indeed the last guest I looked to see 
 at Ostrat. 
 
76 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 And still less, mayhap, did you think to see him come 
 as a friend ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 As a friend ? You add mockery to all the shame and 
 sorrow you have heaped upon my house ? After bring- 
 ing my child to the grave, you still dare 
 
 Nils liYKKE. 
 
 With your leave. Lady Inger Gyldenlove — on that 
 matter we should scarce agree ; for you count as nothing 
 what / lost by that same unhappy chance. I purposed 
 nought but in' honour. I was tired of my unbridled life; 
 my thirtieth year was already past; I longed to mate me 
 with a good and gentle wife. Add to all this the hope 
 of becoming your son-in-law 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Beware, Sir Councillor! I have done all in my power 
 to hide my child's unhappy fate. But because it is out 
 of sight, think not it is out of mind. There may yet 
 come a time 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You threaten me, Lady Inger.'' I have offered you 
 my hand. in amity; you refuse to take it. Henceforth, 
 then, it is to be open war between us? 
 
 Lady Ingee. 
 I knew not there had ever been aught else ? 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 77 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Not on your side, mayhap. / have never been 
 your enemy, — though, as a subject of the King of Den- 
 mark, I lacked not good cause. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. • 
 
 I understand you. I have not been pliant enough. 
 It has not proved so easy as some of you hoped to lure 
 me over into your camp.' — Yet methinks you have nought 
 to complain of. My daughter Merete's husband is your 
 countryman — further I cannot go. My position is no 
 easy one, Nils Lykke! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 That I can well believe. Both nobles and people 
 here in Norway think they have an ancient claim on 
 you — a claim, 'tis said, you have but half fulfilled. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Your pardon. Sir Councillor, — I account for my do- 
 ings to none but God and myself. If it please you, then, 
 let me understand what brings you hither. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Gladly, Lady Inger! The purpose of my mission to 
 this country can scarce be unknown to you ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 I know the mission that report assigns you. Our 
 King would fain know how the Norwegian nobles stand 
 aflFected towards him. '■ 
 
78 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [actii 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Assuredly. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Then that is why you visit Ostrat? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 In part. But it is far from my purpose to demand 
 any profession of loyalty from you 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 What then ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Hearken to me, Lady Inger! You said yourself but 
 now that your position is no easy one. You stand half 
 way between two hostile camps, whereof neither dares 
 trust you fully. Your own interest must needs bind 
 you to u s. On the other hand, you are bound to the 
 disaffected by the bond of nationality, and — who knows ? 
 —mayhap by some secret tie as well. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 [To herself.] A secret tie! Oh God, can he ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Notices her emotion, but makes no sign, and continues 
 without change of manner.] You cannot but see that 
 such a position must ere long become impossible. — Sup- 
 pose, now, it lay in my power to free you from these 
 embarrassments which 
 
ACT 11] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 79 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 In your power, you say ? 
 
 Nils Lykke- 
 
 First of all, Lady Inger, I would beg you to Itiy no 
 stress on any careless words I may have used concerning 
 that which lies between us two. Think not that I have 
 forgotten for a moment the wrong I have done you. Sup- 
 pose, now, I had long purposed to make atonement, as 
 far as might be, where I had sinned. Suppose it were 
 for that reason I had contrived to have this mission 
 assigned me. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 Speak your meaning more clearly. Sir Councillor; — 
 I cannot follow you. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I can scarce be mistaken in thinking that you, as well 
 as I, know of the threatened troubles in Sweden. You 
 know, or at least you can guess, that this rising is of far 
 wider aim than is commonly supposed, and you under- 
 stand therelfore that our King cannot look .on quietly 
 and let things take their course. Am I not right? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Go on. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Searchingly, after a short pause.] There is one 
 possible chance that might endanger Gustav Vasa's 
 throne — — 
 
80 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [To herself i\ Whither is he tending? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 -the chance, namely, that there should exist in 
 
 Sweden a man entitled by his birth to claim election to 
 the kingship. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Evasively.] The Swedish nobles have been even as 
 bloodily hewn down as our own, Sir Councillor. Where 
 would you seek for ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [With a smile.] Seek ? The man is found already 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [Starts violently.] Ah! He is found? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 and he is too closely akin to you, Lady Inger, to 
 
 be far from your thoughts at this moment. 
 
 [Looks fixedly at her. 
 The las£ Count Sture left a son 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [With a cry.] Holy Saviour, how know you ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Surprised.] Be calm, Madam, and let me finish. 
 — This young man has till now lived quietly with his 
 mother, Sten Sture's widow. 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 81 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [Breathes more freely.] With — ? Ah, yes — true, true! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 But now he has come forward openly. He has shown 
 himself in the Dales as leader of the peasants; their 
 numbers are growing day by day; and — as mayhap you 
 know — they are finding friends among the peasants on 
 this side of the border-hills. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Who has in the meantime regained her composure.] 
 Sir Councillor, — you speak of all these matters as though 
 they must of necessity be known to me. What ground 
 have I given you to believe so ? I know, and wish to 
 know, nothing. All my care is to live quietly within my 
 own domain; I give no countenance to disturbers of the 
 peace; but neither must you reckon on me if it be your 
 purpose to suppress them. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [In a low voice.] Would you still be inactive, were it 
 my purpose to come to their aid ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 How am I to understand you ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Have you not seen, then, whither I have been aiming 
 all this time ? — Well, I will tell you all, frankly and 
 openly. Know, then, that the King and his Council 
 
82 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act n 
 
 see clearly that we can have no sure footing in Norway 
 so long as the nobles and the people continue, as now, 
 to think themselves wronged and oppressed. We un- 
 derstand to the full that willing allies are better than 
 sullen subjects; and we have therefore no heartier wish 
 than to loosen the bonds that hamper us, in effect, even 
 as straitly as you. But you will scarce deny that the 
 temper of Norway towards us makes such a step too 
 dangerous — so long as we have no sure support behind 
 us. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 And this support ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Should naturally come from Sweden. But, mark 
 well, not so long as Gustav Vasa holds the helm; h i s 
 reckoning with Denmark is not yet settled, and mayhap 
 never will be. But a new king of Sweden, who had the 
 people with him, and who owed his throne to the help 
 
 of Denmark . Well, you begin to understand me ? 
 
 Then we could safely say to you Norwegians: "Take 
 back your old ancestral rights; choose you a ruler after 
 your own mind; be our friends in need, as we .will be 
 yours ! " — Mark you well. Lady Inger, herein is our gen- 
 erosity less than it may seem; for you must see that, far 
 from weakening, 'twill rather strengthen us. 
 
 And now that I have opened my heart to you so fully, 
 do you too cast away all mistrust. And therefore [con- 
 fidently] — the knight from Sweden, who cam^ hither an 
 hour before me 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Then you already know of his coming? 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 83 
 
 Nii^ Lykke. 
 Most certainly. 'Tis he whom I seek. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [To herself.] Strange! Then it must be as Olaf 
 Skaktavi said. [To Nils Lykke.] I pray you wait 
 here, Sir Councillor! I will go bring him to you. 
 
 [Goes out through the Banquet Hall. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Looks after her awhile in exultant astonishment.] 
 She is bringing him! Ay, truly — she is bringing him! 
 The' battle is half won. I little thought it would go so 
 smoothly. 
 
 She is deep in the counsels of the rebels; she started 
 in terror when I named Sten ^ture's son. 
 
 And now ? H'm ! Since Lady Inger has been simple 
 enough to walk into the snare, Nils Sture will not make 
 many difficulties. A hot-blooded boy, thoughtless and 
 
 rash . With my promise of help he will set forth 
 
 at once — unhappily Jens Bieike will snap him up by 
 the way — and the whole rising will be nipped in the 
 bud. 
 
 And then ? Then one further point to our advantage. 
 It is spread abroad that the young Count Sture has been 
 at Ostrat, — that a Danish envoy has had audience of 
 Lady Inger — that thereupon the young Count Nils has 
 been snapped up by King Gustav's men-at-arms a mile 
 
 from the castle. Let Inger Gyldenlove's name 
 
 among the people stand never so high — 'twill scarce 
 recover from such a blow. 
 
 [Starts up in sudden uneasiness. 
 
84 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii 
 
 By all the devils—! What if she has scented mis- 
 chief? It may be he is even now slipping through our 
 fingers — [Listens towards the hall, and says with relief.] 
 Ah, there is no fear. Here they come. 
 
 [Lady Ingeb Gyldenlove enters from the hall, 
 accompanied by Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [To Nils Lykke.] Here is the man you seek. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Aside.] Powers of hell — what means this ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 I have told this knight your name; and all that you 
 have imparted to me 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Irresolutely.] Ay ? Have you so ? Well 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 -and I will not hide from you that his faith in your 
 
 help is none of the strongest. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Is it not? 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 Can you marvel at that? Surely you know both his 
 way of thinking and his bitter fate 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 85 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 This man's — ? Ah — ^yes, truly 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 [To Nils Lykke.] But seeing 'tis Peter Kanzler him- 
 self that has appointed us this meeting 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Peter Kanzler — ? [Recovers himself quickly. "l Ay, 
 right, — I have a mission from Peter Kanzler — 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 He must know best whom he can trust. So why 
 should I trouble my head with pondering how 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Ay, you are right, noble Sir; why waste time over that ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Rather let us come straight to the matter. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Straight to the point; no beating about the bush — 'tis 
 ever my fashion. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Then will you tell me your errand here ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Methinks you can partly guess my errand 
 
86 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act n 
 
 OliAF SkAKTAVL. 
 
 Peter Kanzler said something of papers that 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Papers? Ay, true, the papers! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Doubtless you have them with you ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Of course; safely bestowed; so safely that I cannot at 
 
 once 
 
 [Appears to search the inner pockets of his doublet; 
 says to himself: 
 Who the devil is he ? What pretext can I make ? I 
 
 may be on the brink of great discoveries 
 
 [Notices that the Servants are laying the table and 
 
 lighting the lamps in the Banquet Hall, and says 
 
 to Olaf Skaktavl: 
 
 Ah, I see Lady Inger has taken order for the evening 
 
 meal. Mayhap we could better talk of our affairs at 
 
 table. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Good; as you will. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [^side.] Time gained — all gained! 
 
 [To Lady Ingek with a show of great friendliness: 
 And meanwhile we might learn what part Lady Inger 
 Gyldenlove purposes to take in our design ? 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 87 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 I ?— None. 
 
 Nils- Lykke and Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 None! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Can ye marvel, noble Sirs, that I venture not on a 
 game wherein loss would mean loss of all ? And that, 
 too, when none of my allies dare trust me fully. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 That reproach touches not me. I trust you blindly; 
 I pray you be assured of that. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 » 
 Who should believe in you, if not your countrymen ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Truly, — this confidence rejoices me. - 
 
 [Goes to a cupboard in the back wall and fills two 
 goblets with wine. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Aside.] Curse her, will she slip out of the noose ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Hands a goblet to each.] And since so it is, I offer 
 you a cup of welcome to Ostrat. Drink, noble knights! 
 Pledge me to the last drop ! 
 
88 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii 
 
 \Looks from one to the other after they have drunk, 
 and says gravely: 
 But now I must tell you— one goblet held a welcome 
 for my friend; the other — death for my enemy! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Throws down the goblet.] Ah, I am poisoned! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 [At the same time, clutches his swordi] Death and hell, 
 have you murdered me ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [To Olaf Skaktavl, pointing to Nils Lykke.] You 
 
 see the Danes' confidence in Inger Gyldenlove 
 
 [To Nils Lykke, pointing to Olaf Skaktavl.] 
 
 and likewise my countrymen's faith in me! 
 
 [To both of them,. 
 Yet you would have me 'place myself in your power? 
 Gently, noble Sirs — gently! The Lady of Ostrat is not 
 yet in her dotage. 
 
 [Elina GYLEteNLOVE enters by the door on the left. 
 
 Elina. 
 I heard loud voices — . What is amiss ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [To Nils Lykke.] My daughter Elina. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Softly.] Elina! I had not pictured her thus. 
 
 [Elina catches sight of Nils Lykke, and stands still, 
 as in surprise, gazing at him. 
 
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 89 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [Touches her arm.] My child — ^this knight is 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Motions her mother back with her hand, still looking 
 intently at him, and says:] There is no need! I see 
 who he is. He is Nils Lykke. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Aside, to Lady Ingeh.] How ? Does she know me ? 
 Can Lucia have — ? Can she know ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Hush! She knows nothing. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [To herself.] I knew it;-.-even so must Nils Lykke 
 appear. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Approaches her.] Yes, Elina Gyldenlove, — you have 
 guessed aright. And as it seems that, in some sense, 
 you know me, — and, moreover, as I am your mother's 
 guest, — you will not deny me the flower-spray you wear 
 in your bosom. So long as it is fresh and fragrant, I 
 shall have in it an image of yourself. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Proudly, but still gazing at him.] Pardon me, Sir 
 Knight — 'twas plucked in my own chamber, and there 
 can grow no flower for you. 
 
90 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Loosening a spray of flowers that he wears in the front 
 of his doublet.] At least you will not disdain this humble 
 gift. 'Twas a farewell token from a courtly dame when 
 I set forth from Trondhiem this morning. — But mark 
 me, noble maiden, — were I to offer you a gift that were 
 fully worthy of you, it could be nought less than a princely 
 crown. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Who has taken the flowers passively.] And were it 
 the royal crown of Denmark you held forth to me — ^be- 
 fore I shared it with you, I would crush it to pieces 
 between my hands, and cast the fragments at your feet ! 
 [Throws down the flowers at his feet, and goes into 
 the Banquet Hall. 
 
 Olap Skaktavl. 
 
 [Mutters to himself.] Bold^ — as Inger Ottisdaughter 
 by Knut Alf son's bier J 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Softly, after looking alternately at Elina and Nils 
 Lykke.] The wolf c a n be tamed. Now to forge the 
 fetters. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Picks up the flowers and gazes in rapture after Elina.] 
 God's holy blood, but she is proud and fair! 
 
ACT THIRD 
 
 The Banquet Hall. A high how-window in the hack- 
 ground; a smaller window in front on the left. Sev- 
 eral doors on each side. The ceiling is supported by 
 massive wooden pillars, on which, as well as on the 
 walls, are hung all sorts of weapons. Pictures of 
 saints, knights, and ladies hang in long rows. Pen- 
 dent from the ceiling a large many-hranched lamp, 
 alight. In front, on the right, an ancient carven high- 
 seat. In the middle of the hall, a table with the rem- 
 nants of the evening meal. 
 
 Elina Gyldenlove enters from the left, slowly and in 
 deep thought. Her expression shows that she is 
 going over again in her mind the scene with Nils 
 Lykke. At last she repeats the motion with which 
 she flung away the flowers, and says in a low voice: 
 
 Elina. 
 -And then he gathered up the fragments of the 
 
 crown of Denmark — no, 'twas the flowers — and: "God's 
 holy blood, but she is proud and fair!" 
 
 Had he whispered the words in the most secret spot, 
 long leagues from Ostrat, — still had I heard them ! 
 
 How I hate him! How I have always hated him, — 
 this Nils Lykke! — There lives not another man like him, 
 'tis said. He plays with women — and treads them under 
 his feet. 
 
 91 
 
92 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act hi 
 
 And 'twas to him my mother thought to offer me ! 
 — How I hate him! 
 
 They say Nils Lykke is unlike all other men. It is not 
 true ! There is nothing strange in him. There are many, 
 many like him ! When Biorn used to tell me his tales, all 
 the princes looked as Nils Lykke looks. When I sat lonely 
 here in the hall and dreamed my histories, and my knights 
 came and went, — they were one and all even as he. 
 
 How strange and how gOod it is to hate ! Never 
 have I known how sweet it can be — till to-night. Ah-^ 
 not to live a thousand years would I sell the moments I 
 have lived since I saw him! — 
 
 "God's holy blood, but she is proud " 
 
 [Goes slowly towards the back, opens the window and 
 looks out. Nils Lykke comes in by the first door 
 on the right. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [To himself.] "Sleep well at Ostrat, Sir Knight," said 
 Inger Gyldenlove as she left me. Sleep well ? Ay, 'tis 
 
 easily said, but Out there, sky and sea in tumult; 
 
 below, in the grave- vault, a young girl on her bier; the 
 fate of two kingdoms in my hand; — and in my breast 
 a withered flower thar a woman has flung at my ieet. 
 Truly, I fear me sleep will be slow of coming. [Notices 
 Elina, who has left the window, and is going out on 
 the left.] There she is. Her haughty eyes seem veiled 
 with thought. — Ah, if I but dared—. [Aloud.] Mistress 
 Elina! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Stops at the doot.] What will you ? Why do you 
 pursue me ? 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 93 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 You err; I pursue you not. I am myself pursued. 
 
 Elina. 
 You ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 By a multitude of thoughts. Therefore 'tis with sleep 
 as with you: — it flees me. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Go to the window, and there you will find pastime; 
 — a storm-tossed sea 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 \&miles?^ A storm-tossed sea*? That may I find in ' 
 you as well. 
 
 Elina. 
 In me? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Ay, of that our first meeting has assured me. 
 
 Elina. 
 And that offends you? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Nay, in nowise; yet I could wish to see you of milder 
 mood. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 \ProudXy\ Think you that you will ever have your 
 wish? 
 
94 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [actiii 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 I am sure of it. I have a welcome word to say to you. 
 
 Elina. 
 What is it ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Farewell. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Comes a step nearer him.] Farewell ? You are leav- 
 ing Ostrat — so soon ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 This very night. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 I 
 
 [Seems to hesitate for a moment; then says coldly.] Then 
 take my greeting, Sir Knight! [Bows and is about to go. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Elina Gyldenlove, — I have no right to keep you here; 
 but 'twill be unlike your nobleness if you refuse to hear 
 what I have to say to you. 
 
 Elina. 
 I hear you, Sir Knight. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 I know you hate me. 
 
 Elina. 
 You are keen-sighted, I perceive. 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 95 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 But I know, too, that I have fully merited your hate. 
 Unseemly and wounding were the words I wrote of .you 
 in my letter to Lady Inger. 
 
 Elina. 
 Like enough; I have not read them. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 But at least their purport is not unknown to you; I 
 know your mother has not left you in ignorance of the 
 matter; at the least she has told you how I praised the 
 lot of the man who — : surely you know the hope I 
 nursed — 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Sir Knight — if 'tis of that you would speak — 
 
 Nils L,ykke. 
 
 I speak of it, only to ask pardon for my words; for no 
 other reason, I swear to you. If my fame — as I have 
 too much cause to fear — has gone before me to Ostrat, 
 you must needs know enough of my life not to won- 
 der that in such things I should go to work something 
 boldly. I have met many women, Elina Gyldenlove; 
 but not one have I found unyielding. Such lessons, 
 look you, teach a man to be secure. He loses the habit 
 of roundabout ways 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Maybe so. I know not of what metal those women 
 can have been made. 
 
96 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act in 
 
 For the rest, you err in thinking 'twas your letter to 
 my mother that aroused my soul's hatred and bitterness 
 against you. It is of older date. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Uneasily.] Of older date ? What mean you ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 'Tis as you guessed : — your fame has gone before you, 
 to Ostrat, even as over all the land. Nils Lykke's name 
 is never spoken save with the name of some woman 
 whom he has beguiled and cast off. Some speak it in 
 wrath, others with laughter and wanton jeering at those 
 weak-souled creatures. But through the wrath and the 
 laughter and the jeers rings the song they have made of 
 you, full of insolent challenge, like an einemy's song of 
 triumph. 
 
 'Tis all this together that has begotten my hate for 
 you. You were ever in my thoughts, and ever I longed 
 to meet you face to face, that you might learn that there 
 are women on whom your subtle speeches are lost — if you 
 should think to use them. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You judge me unjustly, if you judge from what ru- 
 mour has told of me. Even if there be truth in all you 
 have heard, — ^you know not the causes behind it. — As a 
 boy of seventeen I began my course of pleasure. I have 
 lived full fifteen years since then. Light women granted 
 me all that I would — even before the wish had shaped 
 itself into a prayer; and what I offered them they seized 
 with eager hands. You are the first woman that has 
 flung back a gift of mine with scorn at my feet. ' 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 97 
 
 Think not I reproach you. Rather I honour you for 
 it, as never before have I honoured woman. But for 
 this I reproach my fate — and the thought is a gnawing 
 pain to me — that you and I were not sooner brought 
 
 face to face. EHna Gyldenlove! Your mother has 
 
 told me of you. While far from OstrS,t life ran its rest- 
 less course, you went your lonely way in silence, living 
 in your dreams and histories. Therefore you will under- 
 stand what I have to tell you. — Know, then, that once 
 I too lived even such a life as yours. Methought that 
 when I stepped forth into the great world, a noble and 
 stately woman would come to meet me, and would 
 beckon to me and point out the path towards a glorious 
 goal. — I was deceived, Elina Gyldenlove! Women came 
 to meet me ; but she was not among them. Ere yet I had 
 come to full manhood, I had learnt to despise them all. 
 
 Was it my fault? Why were not the others even as 
 you.' — I know the fate of. your fatherland lies heavy on 
 your soul; and you know the part I have in these af- 
 fairs . 'Tis said of me that I am false as the sea- 
 foam. Mayhap I am; but if I be, it is women who have 
 made me so. Had I sooner found what I sought, — had 
 I met a woman proud and noble and high-souled even 
 as you, then had my path been different indeed. At 
 this moment, maybe, I had been standing at your side 
 as the champion of all that suffer wrong in Norway's 
 land. For this I believe: a woman is the mightiest 
 power in the world, and in her hand it lies to guide a 
 man whither God Almighty would ha"ve him go. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [To herself.] Can it be as he says.' Nay, nay; there 
 is falsehood in his eyes and deceit on his lips. And yet 
 — no song is sweeter than his words. 
 
98 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act hi 
 
 NtLS Lykke. 
 
 [Coming closer, speaks low and more intimately.] As 
 you have dwelt here at Ostrat, alone with your change- 
 ful thoughts, how often have you felt your bosom stifling; 
 how often have the roof and walls seemed to shrink to- 
 gether till they crushed your very soul. Then have your 
 longings taken wing with you; then have you yearned to 
 fly far from here, you knew not whither. — How often 
 have you not wandered alone by the fiord ; far out a ship 
 has sailed by in fair array, with knights and ladies on 
 her deck, with song and music of stringed instruments; — 
 a faint, far-off rumour of great events has reached your 
 ears; — and you have felt a longing in your breast, an 
 unconquerable craving to know all that lies beyond the 
 sea. But you have not understood what ailed you. At 
 times you have thought it was the fate of your fatherland 
 that filled you with all these restless broodings. You 
 deceived yourself; — a maiden so young as you has other 
 
 food- for musing. Elina Gyldenlove! Have you 
 
 never had visions of an unknown power — a strong mys- 
 terious might, that binds together the destinies of mortals ? 
 When you dreamed of the many-coloured life far out in 
 the wide world — when you dreamed of knightly jousts 
 and joyous festivals — saw you never in your dreams a 
 knight, who stood in the midst of the gayest rout, with a 
 smile on his lips and with bitterness in his heart, — a 
 knight that had once dreamed a dream as fair as yours, 
 of a woman noble and stately, for whom he went ever 
 a-seeking, and ever in vain? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Who are you, that have power to clothe my most se- 
 cret thoughts in words? How can you tell me what I 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 99 
 
 have borne in my inmost soul— yet knew it not myself ? 
 How know you ? \ 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 All that I have told you, I have read in your eyes. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Never has any man spoken to me as you have spoken. 
 I have understood you but dimly; and yet — all, all seems 
 changed since 
 
 [To herself.] Now I understand why they said that 
 Nils Lykke was unlike all others. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 There is one thing in the world that might drive a 
 man to madness, but to think of it; and that is the thought 
 6t what might have been, had things but fallen out in 
 this way or that. Had I met you on my path while the 
 tree of my life was yet green and budding, at this hour, 
 mayhap, you had been 
 
 But forgive me, noble lady ! Our speech of these past 
 few moments has made me forget i how we stand one to 
 another. 'Twas as though a secret voice had told me 
 from the first that to you I could speak openly, without 
 flattery or dissimulation. 
 
 Elina. 
 That can you. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 'Tis well; — and it may be that this openness has al- 
 ready in part reconciled us. Ay — my hope is yet bolder. 
 The time may yet come when you will think of the 
 
100 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act in 
 
 stranger knight without hate or bitterness in your soul. 
 Nay, — mistake me not ! I mean not n o w — but some 
 time, in the days to come. And that this may be the 
 less hard for you — and as I have begun once for all to 
 speak to you plainly and openly — let me tell you 
 
 Elina. 
 Sir Knight ! 
 
 » Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Smiling.] Ah, I see the thought of my letter still af- 
 frights you. Fear nought on that score. I would from 
 my heart it were unwritten, for — I know 'twill concern 
 you little enough, so I may even say it right out — for I 
 love you not, and shall never come to love you. Fear 
 nothing, therefore, as I said before; I shall in nowise 
 seek to 
 
 But what ails you ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Me? Nothing, nothing. — Tell me but one thing: why 
 do you still wear those flowers ? What would you with 
 them ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 These ? Are they not a gage of battle you have thrown 
 down to the wicked Nils Lykke, on behalf of all woman- 
 kind ? What could I do but take it up ? 
 
 You asked what I would with them ? [Softly.] When 
 I stand again amid the fair ladies of Denmark — when 
 the music of the strings is hushed and there is silence 
 in the hall — then will I bring forth these flowers and 
 
ACT HI] LADY INGER OF t)STRAT 101 
 
 tell a tale of a young maiden sitting alone in a gloomy 
 
 black-beamed hall, far to the north in Norway 
 
 [Breaks off and bows respectfully. 
 But I fear I detain the noble daughter of the house 
 too long. We shall meet no more; for before daybreak 
 I shall be gone. So now I bid you farewell. 
 
 Elina. 
 .Fare you well, Sir Knight! [A short silence. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Again you are deep in thought, Elina Gyldenlove! Is 
 it the fate of your fatherland that weighs upon you still ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Shakes her head, absently gazing straight in front of 
 her.] My fatherland ? — I think not of my fatherland. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Then 'tis the strife and misery of the time that dis- 
 quiets you. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 The time ? I had forgotten it You go to 
 
 Denmark? Said you not so.' 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 I go to Denmark. 
 
 Elina. 
 Can I look towards Denmark from this hall ? 
 
102 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act hi 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Points to the window on the left] Ay, from this win- 
 dow. Denmark lies there, to the south. 
 
 ElilNA. 
 
 And is it far from here? More than a hundred 
 leagues ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Much more. The sea lies between you and Denmark. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [To herself.] The sea? Thought has sea-gulls' wings. 
 The sea cannot stay it. [Goes out to the left. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Looks after her awhile; then says:] If I could but 
 spare two days now — or even one — I would have her in 
 my power, even as the others. 
 
 And yet is there rare stuff in this maiden. She is 
 
 proud. Might I not after all ? No; rather humble 
 
 her^ [Paces the room.] Verily, I believe she has set 
 
 my blood afire. Who would have thought it possible 
 after all these years? — Enough of this! I must get out 
 of the tangle I hg,ve here thrust myself into. [Sits in a 
 chair on the right.] What is the meaning of it ? Both 
 Olaf Skaktavl and Inger Gyldenlove seem blind to the 
 mistrust 'twill waken, when 'tis rumoured that I am in 
 their league. — Or^can Lady Inger have seen through my 
 purpose ? Can she have seen that all my promises were 
 but designed to lure Nils Sture forth from his hiding- 
 place? [Springs up.] Damnation! Is it I that have 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 103 
 
 been fooled? 'Tis like enough that Count Sture is not 
 at Ostr§,t at all. It may be the rumour of his flight was 
 but a feint. He may be safe and sound among his 
 
 friends in Sweden, while I [Walks restlessly up and 
 
 down.] And to think I was so sure of success! If I 
 should effect nothing? If Lady Inger should penetrate 
 all my designs — and publish my discomfiture — . To be 
 a laughing-stock both here and in Denmark! To have 
 sought to lure Lady Inger into a trap — and given her 
 cause the help it most needed— strengthened her in the 
 
 people's favour ! Ah, I could well-nigh sell myself 
 
 to the Evil One, would he but help me to lay hands on 
 Count Sture. 
 
 [The window in the background is pushed open. 
 Nils Stensson appears qutside. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Clutches at his sword.] Who is there ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Jumps down on to the floor.] Ah; here I am at last 
 then! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Aside.] What means this? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 God's peace, master! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Thanks, good Sir! Methinks you have chosen a 
 strange way of entrance. 
 
104 LAPY INGER OF OSTRAT [act m 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ay, what the devil was I to do ? The gate was shut. 
 Folk must sleep in this house like bears at Yuletide. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 God be thanked! Know you not that a good con- 
 science is the best pillow ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ay, it must be even so; for with all my rattling and 
 
 thundering, I 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 You won not in ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 You have hit it. So I said to myself: As you are 
 bidden to be in Ostrat to-night, if you have to go 
 through fire and water, you may surely make free to 
 creep through a window. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Aside.] Ah, if it should be ! [Moves a step or 
 
 two nearer.] Was it, then, of the last necessity that you 
 should reach Ostrat to-night? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Was it ? Ay, faith but it was. I love not to keep folk 
 waiting, I can tell you. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 ^a, — then Lady Inger Gyldenlove looks for your 
 coming ? 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 105 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Lady Inger Gyldenlove ? Nay, that I can scarce say 
 for certain; [with a sly smile] but there might be some 
 one else 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Smiles in answer.] Ah, so there might be some one 
 else — ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Tell me — are you of the house ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I ? Well, in so far that I am Lady Inger's guest this 
 evening. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 A guest ? — Is not to-night the third night after Mar- 
 tinmas ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. • 
 
 The third night after — ? Ay, right enough. — Would 
 you seek the lady of the house at once? I think she is 
 not yet gone to rest. But might not you sit down and 
 rest awhile, dear young Sir ? See, here is yet a flagon 
 of wine remaining, and doubtless you will find some food. 
 Come, fall to; you will do wisely to refresh your strength. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 You are right. Sir; 'twere not amiss. [Sits down by 
 the table and eats and drinks.] Both roast meat and 
 sweet cakes! Why, you live like lords here! When one 
 
106 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act hi 
 
 has slept, as I have, on the naked ground, and lived on 
 bread and water for four or five days 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Looks at him with a smile.] . Ay, such a life must 
 be hard for one that is wont to sit at the high-table in 
 noble halls 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Noble halls ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 But now can you take your ease at Ostrat, as long as 
 it likes you. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Pleased.] Ay ? Can I truly ? Then I am not to be- 
 gone again so soon ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Nay, that I know not. Sure you yourself can best 
 say that. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Softly.] Oh, the devil! [Stretches himself in the 
 chair.] Well, you see — 'tis not yet certain. I, for my 
 part, were nothing loath to stay quiet here awhile; 
 but 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 But you are not in all points your own master? 
 
 There be other duties and other affairs ? 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 107 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ay, that is just the rub. Were I to choose, I would 
 rest me at Ostrat at least the winter through; I have for 
 
 the most part led a soldier's life, and [Interrupts 
 
 himself suddenly, Jills a goblet, and drinks.] Your health, 
 Sir! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 A soldier's life ? H'm! 
 
 Nils . Stensson. 
 
 Nay, what I would have said is this: I have long been 
 eager to see Lady Inger Gyldenlove, whose fame has 
 spread so wide. She must be a queenly woman, — is't 
 not so ? — The one thing I like not in her, is that she is 
 so cursedly slow to take open action. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Open action ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ay, ay, you understand me; I mean she is so loath to 
 take a hand in driving the foreign masters out of the land. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Ay, there you are right. But if now you do what you 
 can, you will doubtless move her. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 I ? God knows 'twould but little serve if / 
 
108 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act m 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Yet 'tis strange you should seek her here if you have 
 so little hope. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 What mean you ? — Tell me, know you Lady Inger ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Surely; since I am her guest 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ay, but it in nowise follows that you know her. I 
 too am her guest, yet have I never seen so much as her 
 shadow. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Yet did you speak of her 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 as all folk speak. Why should I not ? And be- 
 
 sides, I have often enough heard from Peter Kanzler 
 
 [Stops in confusion, and falls to eating busily. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 You would have said ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 [Eating.] I? Nay, 'tis all one. 
 
 [Nils Lykke laughs. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Why laugh you, Sir? 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 109 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 At nothing, Sir! 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 [Drinks.] A pretty vintage ye have in this house. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Approaches him confidentially.] Listen — were it not 
 time now to throw off the mask? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Smiling.] The mask? Why, do as seems best to 
 you. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Then off with all disguise. You are known, Count 
 Sture ! 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Bursts out laughing.] Count Sture ? Do you too take 
 me for Count Sture ? [Rises from the table.] You mistake, 
 Sir! I am not Count Sture. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 You are not ? Then who are you ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 My name is Nils Stensson. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Looks at him with a smile.] H'm! Nils Stensson? 
 But you are not Sten Sture's son Nils ? The name chimes 
 at least. 
 
110 LADY INGER OP OSTRAT [act hi 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 True enough; but God knows what right I have to 
 bear it. My father I never knew; my mother was a 
 poor peasant woman, that was robbed and murdered in 
 one of the old feuds. Peter Kanzler chanced to be on 
 the spot; he took me into his care, brought me up, and 
 taught me the trade of arms. As you know, King Gus- 
 tav has been hunting him this many a year; and I have 
 followed him faithfully, wherever he went. 
 
 Nils Ltkke. 
 
 Peter Kanzler has taught you more than the trade 
 
 of arms, meseems. Well, well; then you are not 
 
 Nils Sture. But at least you come from Sweden. Peter 
 Kanzler has sent you hither to find a stranger, who 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 [Nods cunningly.] who is found already. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Somewhat uncertain.] And whom you do not know .' 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 As little as you know me; for I swear to you by God 
 himself: I am not Count Sture! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 In sober earnest. Sir ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 As truly as I live! Wherefore should I deny it, if I 
 were? 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 111 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 But where, then, is Count Sture ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 [In a low voice.] Ay, that is just the secret. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Whispers.] Which is known to you ? Is't not so ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 [Nods.] And which I am to tell you. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 To tell me ? Well then, — where is he ? 
 
 [Nils Stensson points upwards. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Up there ? Lady Inger holds him hidden in the loft- 
 room? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Nay, nay; you mistake me. [Looks round cautiously.] 
 Nils Sture is in Heaven! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Dead ? And where ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 In his mother's castle, — three weeks since. 
 
112 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act in 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Ah, you are deceiving me! 'Tis but five or six days 
 since he crossed the frontier into Norway. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Oh, that was I. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 But just before that the Count had appeared in the 
 Dales. The people, who were restless already, broke 
 out openly and would have chosen him for king. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Ha-ha-ha; that was me too! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 You? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 I will tell you how it came about. One day Peter 
 Kanzler called me to him and gave me to know that 
 great things were preparing. He bade me set out for 
 Norway and fare to Ostr&,t, where I must be on a cer- 
 tain fixed day 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [Nods.] The third night after Martinmas. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 There I was to meet a stranger 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Ay, right; I am he. 
 
ACTiiiJ LADY INGER OP OSTRAT 113 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 From him I should learn what more I had to do. 
 Moreover, I was to let him know that the Count was 
 dead of a sudden, but that as yet 'twas known to no one 
 save to his mother the Countess, together with Peter 
 Kanzler and a ieyv old servants of the Stures. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I understand. The Count was the peasants' rallying- 
 point. Were the tidings of his death to spread, they 
 would fall asunder, — and 'twould all come to nought. 
 
 Nils £ten3son. 
 Ay, maybe so; I know little of such matters. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 But how came you to give yourself out for the Count ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 How came I to ? Nay, what know I? Many's 
 
 the mad prank I have hit on in my day. And yet 'twas 
 not I hit on it neither; for whereever I appeared in the 
 Dales, the people crowded round me and hailed me as 
 Count Sture. Deny it as I pleased, 'twas wasted breath. 
 The Count had been there two years before, they said — 
 and the veriest child knew me again. Well, so be it, 
 thought I; never again will you be a Count in this life; 
 why not try what 'tis like for once ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Well, — and what did you more? 
 
114 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT Iact hi 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 I? I ate and drank and took my ease. The only 
 pity was that I had "to take the road again so soon. But 
 when I set forth across the frontier — ha-ha-ha — I prom- 
 ised them I would soon be back with three or four thou- 
 sand men — I know not how many I said — and then we 
 would lay on in earnest. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 And you did not bethink you that you were acting 
 rashly ? 
 
 Nils Stensson, 
 Ay, afterwards; but then, to be sure, 'twas too late. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I grieve for you, my young friend; but you will soon 
 come to feel the effects of your folly. Let me tell you 
 that you are pursued. A troop of Swedish men-at-arms 
 is out after you. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 After me ? Ha-ha-ha ! Nay, that is rare ! And when 
 they come and think they have Count Sture in their 
 clutches — ha-ha-ha ! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Crravely.] Then 'tis all over with you. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 All over ? But I am not Count Sture. 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 115 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You have called the people to arms. You have given 
 seditious promises, and raised troubles in the land: 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Ay, but 'twas only in jest! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 King Gustav will scarce take that view of the affair. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Truly, there is something in what you say. To think 
 
 I could be so featherwitted Well, well, I'm nqt a 
 
 dead man yet! You will protect me; and besides — the 
 men-at-arms can scarce be at my heels yet. 
 
 Nils LykS:e. 
 But what else have you to tell me? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 I? Nothing. When once I have given you the 
 
 packet 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 {Off his guard.] The packet ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Ay, sure you know 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Ah, right, right; the papers from Peter Kanzler 
 
116 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act hi 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 See, here they all are. 
 
 [Takes out a packet from inside his doublet, and hands 
 it to Nils Lykke. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Aside.] Letters and papers for Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 [To Nils Stensson. 
 The packet is open, I see. 'Tis like you know what it 
 contains ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 No, good sir; I love not to read writing; and for reason 
 good. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I understand; you have given most care to the trade 
 of arms. [Sits down by the table on the right, and runs 
 through the papers.] Aha! Here is light enough and to 
 spare on what is brewing. 
 
 This small letter tied with a silken thread — [Examines 
 the address.] This too for Olaf Skaktavl. [Opens the let- 
 ter, and glances through its contents.] From Peter Kanz- 
 ler. I thought as much. [Reads under his breath.] "I 
 am hard bested, for — "; ay, sure enough; here it stands, 
 — "Young Count Sture has been gathered to his fa- 
 thers, even at the time fixed for the revolt to break 
 forth" — " — but all may yet be made good — " What 
 now? [Reads on in astonishment.] "You must know, then, 
 Olaf Skaktavl, that the young man who brings you this 
 letter is a son of — " Heaven and earth — can it be so ? 
 — Ay, by the cross of Christ, even so 'tis written ! [Glances 
 at Nils Stensson.] Can he be — ? Ah, if it were so! 
 [Reads on.] "I have nurtured him since he was a yea> 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OP OSTRAT 117 
 
 old; but up to this day I have ever refused to give him 
 back, trusting to have in him a sure hostage for Inger 
 Gyldenlove's faithfulness to us and to our friends. Yet 
 in that respect he has but little availed us. You may 
 marvel that I told you not this secret when you were 
 with me here of late; therefore will I confess freely that 
 I feared you might seize upon him, even as I had done, 
 and to the same intent. But now, when you have seen 
 Lady Inger, and have doubtless assured yourself how 
 loath she is to have a hand in our undertaking, you will 
 see that 'tis wisest to give her back her own as soon as 
 may be. Well might it come to pass that in her joy and 
 
 security and thankfulness — " " — that is now our 
 
 last hope." [Sits for mvhile as though struck dumb with 
 surprise; then exclaims in a low voice:] Aha, — what a 
 letter! Gold would not buy it! 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 'Tis plain I have brought you weighty tidings. Ay, 
 ay, — Peter Kanzler has many irons in the fire, folk say. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [To himself.] What to do with all this? A thou- 
 sand paths are open to me — What if I were — ? No, 
 'twere to risk too much. But if — ah, if I — ? I will 
 venture it! [Tears the letter across, crumples up the pieces, 
 and hides them inside his doublet; puts back the other pa- 
 pers into the packet, which he thrusts inside his belt; rises 
 and says:] A word, my young friend! 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Approaching him.] Well — your looks say that the 
 game goes bravely. 
 
118 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act in 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Ay, by my soul it does. You have given me a hand 
 of nought but court cards, — queens and knaves 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 But what of me, that have brought all these good tid- 
 ings ? Have I nought more to do ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You ? Ay, that have yoii. You belong to the game. 
 You are a king — and king of trumps too. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 I a king ? Oh, now I understand ; you are thinking 
 of my exaltation 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Your exaltation ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ay; that which you foretold for me, if King Gustav's 
 
 men got me in their clutches 
 
 [Makes a motion to indicate hanging. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 True enough; — but let tha,t trouble' you no more. It 
 now lies with yourself alone whether within a month you 
 shall have the hempen noose or a chain of gold about 
 your neck. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 A chain of gold ? And it lies with me ? 
 
 [Nils Lykke nods. 
 
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 119 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Why, then, the devil take doubting! Do you but tell 
 me what I am to do. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I will. But first yqu must swear me a solemn oath 
 that no living creature in the wide world shall know 
 what I confide to you. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Is that all? You shall have ten oaths, if you will. 
 
 Nils' Lykke. 
 Not so lightly, young Sir! 'Tis no jesting matter. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Well, well; I am grave enough. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 In the Dales you called yourself a Count's son; — is't 
 
 not so ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Nay — begin you now on that again ? Have I not 
 made free confession 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You mistake me. What you said in the Dales was 
 the truth. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 The truth? What mean you by that? Tell me 
 but ! 
 
120 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act hi 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 First your oath! The holiest, the most inviolable you 
 can swear. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 That ydu shall have. Yonder on the wall hangs the 
 picture of the Holy Virgin 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 The Holy Virgin has grown infirm of late. Know you 
 not what the monk of Wittenberg maintains ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Fie ! how can you heed the monk of Wittenberg ? 
 Peter Kanzler says he is a heretic. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Well, let us not dispute the matter. Here can I show 
 you a saint will serve full well to make oath by. [Points 
 to a picture hanging on one of the panels.] Come hither, 
 — swear that you will be silent till I myself release your 
 tongue — silent, as you hope for Heaven's salvation for 
 yourself and for the man whose picture hangs there. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Approaching the picture.] I swear it — so help me 
 God's holy word! [Falls back a step in amazement.] 
 But — Christ save me ! 
 
 Nii^s Lykke. 
 What now ? 
 
ACT m] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 121 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 The picture^! Sure 'tis I myself! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 'Tis old Sten Sture, even as he lived and moved in 
 his youthful years. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Sten Sture ! — And the likeness — ? And — said you not 
 I spoke the truth, when I called myself a Count's son ? 
 Was't not so? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 So it was. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ah, I have it, I have it! I am 
 
 ,♦ 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 You are Sten Sture's son, good Sir! 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 [With the quiet of amazement.] I Sten Sture's son ! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 On the mother's side too your blood is noble. Peter 
 Kanzler spoke not the truth, if he said that a poor peas- 
 ant woman was your mother. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Oh strange! oh marvellous! But can I believe ? 
 
122 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act in 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You may believe all that I tell you. But remember, 
 all this will be merely your ruin, if you should forget, 
 what you swore to me by your father's salvation. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Forget it ? Nay, that you may be sure I never shall. 
 — But you, to whom I have given my word, — tell me — 
 who are you ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 My name is Nils Lykke. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Surprised.] Nils Lykke? Surely not the Danish 
 Councillor ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Even so. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 And it was you — ? 'Tis strange. How come 
 you ^? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 to be receiving missives from Peter Kanzler? 
 
 You marvel at that.' 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 I cannot deny it. He has ever named you as our 
 bitterest foe 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 And therefore you mistrust me ? 
 
'i/..: 
 
 ^CT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 123 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 ^ay, not wholly that; but — well, the devil take musing! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 said. Go but your own way, and you are as 
 f the halter as you are of a' Count's title and a 
 |*)f gold if you trust to me. 
 
 j^; l« Nils Stensson. 
 
 ''^TSat|vill I. My hand upon it, dear Sir! Do you 
 l^ut help me with good counsel as long as there is need; 
 when counsel gives place to blows, I shall look to my- 
 self. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 'Tis well. Come with me now into yonder chamber, 
 and I will tell you how all these matters stand, and what 
 you have still to do. [Goes out to the right. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [With a glance at the picture.] I Sten Sture's son! 
 
 Oh, marvellous as a dream ! 
 
 [Goes out after Nils Lykke. 
 
ACT FOURTH 
 
 The Banquet Hall, as before, hut without the suppeUfi/ti: 
 
 BioRN, the majordomo, enters carrying a lighted jbtdr.ch- 
 candlestick, and lighting in Lady Inger amLOhAF 
 Skaktavl by the second door on the lef^^J^BY 
 Ingeb has a bundle of papers in her hand' 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 [To Bio EN.] And you are sure my daughter had 
 speech with the knight, here in the hall ? 
 
 BlORN. 
 
 [Putting down the branch-candlestick on the table on 
 the left.] Sure as may be. I met her even as she stepped 
 into the passage. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 And she seemed greatly moved ? Said you not so ? 
 
 BiQrn. 
 
 She looked all pale and disturbed. I asked if she 
 were sick; she answered not, but said: "Go to my mother 
 and tell her the knight sets forth from here ere day- 
 break; if she have letters or messages for him, beg her 
 not to delay him needlessly." And then she added some- 
 what that I heard not rightly. 
 
 124 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 125 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Did you not hear it at all ? 
 
 BlOEN. 
 
 It sounded to me as though she said: — "Almost I 
 fear he has already tarried too long at Ostrat." 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 And the knight ? Where is he ? 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 In his chamber, belike, in the gate-wing. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 It is well. What I have to send by him is ready. Go 
 to him and say I await him here in the hall. 
 
 [BioBN goes out to the right. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Know you, Lady Inger, — 'tis true that in such things 
 
 I am blind as a mole; yet seems it to me as though 
 
 h'm! 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Well ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 as though Nils Lykke bore a mind to your 
 
 daughter. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Then 'twould seem you are not so blind after all; for 
 I am the more deceived if you be not right. Marked 
 
126 LADY INGER OF OSTRAl' [activ 
 
 you not at the supper-board how eagerly he listened to 
 the least word I let fall concerning Elina? 
 
 , Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 He forgot both food and drink. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 And our secret affairs as well. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Ay, and what is more — the papers from Peter Kanzler. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 And from all this you conclude ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 From all this I chiefly conclude that, as you know 
 Nils Lykke and the name he bears, especially in all that 
 touches women 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 1 should be right glad to know him outside my 
 
 gates? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Ay; and that as soon as may be. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Smiling.] Nay — the case is just the contrary, Olaf 
 Skaktavl! 
 
ACTiv] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 127 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 How mean you ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 If things be as we both think. Nils Lykke must in 
 nowise depart from Ostrat yet awhile. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl, 
 
 [Looks at her with disapproval.] Are you again em- 
 barked on crooked courses. Lady Inger? What guile 
 are you now devising? Something that may increase 
 your own power at the cost of our 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Oh this blindness, that makes you all do me such 
 wrong! I see well you think I purpose to make Nils 
 Lykke my daughter's husband. Were such a thought 
 in my mind, why had I refused to take part in. what is 
 afoot in Sweden, when Nils Lykke and all the Danish 
 crew seem willing to support it? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Then if it be not your wish to win him and bind him 
 to you — what would you with him ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 I will tell you in few words. In a letter to me. Nils 
 Lykke has spoken of the high fortune it were to be allied 
 to our house; and I do not say but, for a moment, I let 
 myself think of the matter. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Ay, see you! 
 
128 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 To wed Nils Lykke to one of my house were doubt- 
 less a great step towards stanching many discords in 
 our land. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Meseems your daughter Merete's marriage with Vin- 
 zents Lunge might have taught you what comes of such 
 a step. Scarce had my lord gained firm footing among 
 us, when he began to make free with both our goods 
 and our rights 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 I know it even too well, Olaf Skaktavl! But times 
 there be when my thoughts are manifold and strange. I 
 cannot impart them fully either to you or to any one else. 
 Often I know not the right course to choose. And yet 
 — a second time to make a Danish lord my son-in-law, 
 — nought but the uttermost need could drive me to that 
 resource; and Heaven be praised — things have not yet 
 come to that! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 I am no wiser than before. Lady Inger; — why would 
 you keep Nils Lykke at Ostrat? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [In a low voice.] Because I owe him an undying hate. 
 Nils Lykke has done me deadlier wrong than any other 
 man. I cannot tell you wherein it lies; but never shall 
 I rest till I am avenged on him. See you not now? 
 Say that Nils Lykke were to Jove my daughter — as me- 
 seems were like enough. I will persuade him to tarry 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 129 
 
 here; he shall learn to know Elina well. She is both 
 fair and wise. — Ah, if he should one day come before 
 me, with hot love in his heart, to beg for her hand ! 
 Then — to chase him away like a dog; to drive him off 
 with jibes and scorn; to make it known over all the land 
 that Nils Lykke had come a-wooing to Ostrat in vain — ! 
 I tell you I would give ten years of my life but to see 
 that day! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 In faith and truth, Inger Gyldenlove — is this your 
 purpose towards him ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 This and nought else, as sure as God lives! Trust 
 me, Olaf Skaktavl, I mean honestly by my countrymen; 
 but I am in nowise my own mistress. Things there be 
 that must be kept hidden, or« 'twere my death-blow. 
 But let me once be secure on that side, and you shall 
 see if I have forgotten the oath I swore by Knut Alfson's 
 bier. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 [Shakes her by the hand.] Thanks for those words! 
 I am loath indeed to think evil of you. — Yet, touching 
 your design towards this knight, methinks 'tis a vent- 
 uresome game you would play. What if you had mis- 
 reckoned ? What if your daughter — ? 'Tis said no 
 woman can stand against this subtle devil. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 My daughter? Think you that she — ? Nay, have 
 no fear of that; I know Elina better. All she has heard 
 
130 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 of his renown has but made her hate him the more. 
 You saw with your own eyes 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Ay, but — a woman's mind is shifting ground to build 
 on. 'Twere best you looked well before you. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 That will I, be sure; I will watch them narrowly. But 
 even were he to succeed in luring her into his toils, I 
 have but to whisper two words in her ear, and 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 What then ? 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 She will shrink from him as though he came 
 
 straight from the foul Tempter himself. 
 
 Hist, Olaf Skaktavl! Here he comes. Now be cau- 
 tious. 
 
 [Nils Lykke enters by the foremost door on the right. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Approaches Lady Inger courteously.] My noble 
 hostess has summoned me. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 I have learned through my daughter that you are 
 minded to leave us to-night. 
 
 Nils Lykke. • 
 
 Even so, to my sorrow; — since my business at Ostrat 
 is over. 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OP OSTRAT 131 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Not before I have the papers. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 True, true. I had well-nigh forgot the weightiest 
 part of my errand. 'Twas the fault of our noble host- 
 ess. With such gracious skill did she keep her guests 
 in talk at table 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 That you no longer remembered what had brought 
 you hither? I rejoice to hear it; for that was my de- 
 sign. Methought that if my guest, Nils Lykke, were to 
 feel at his ease in Ostr§,t, he must forget— ^^ — 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 What, lady? 
 
 Lady In^er. 
 
 First of all his errand — and then all that had gone 
 
 before it. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [To Olaf Skaktavl, as he takes out the packet and 
 hands it to him.] The papers from Peter Kanzler. You 
 will find in them a full account of our partizans in Sweden. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 It is well. 
 
 [Sits down by the table on the left, where he opens 
 the packet and examines its contents. 
 
 I 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 And now. Lady Inger Gyldenlove, — I know not that 
 there is aught else for me to do here. 
 
132 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Had it been things of state alone that brought us 
 together, you might be right. But I should be loath 
 to think so 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 You would say ? 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 I would say that 'twas not alone as a Danish Coun- 
 cillor or as the ally of Peter Kanzler that Nils Lykke 
 came to be my guest. — Do I err in fancying that some- 
 what you may have heard down in Denmark may have 
 made you curious to know more of the Lady of Ostrat ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Far be it from me to deny 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 [Turning over the papers.] ■ Strange. No letter. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 -Lady Inger Gyldenlove's fame is all too widely 
 
 spread that I should not long have been eager to see her 
 face to face. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 So I thought. But what, then, is an hour's jesting 
 talk at the supper-table ? Let us try to sweep away all 
 that has till now lain between us; it may well come to 
 pass that the Nils Lykke I know may wipe out. the 
 grudge I bore the one I knew not. Prolong your stay 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 133 
 
 here but a few days, Sir Councillor! I dare not per- 
 suade Olaf Skaktavl thereto, since his secret charge in 
 Sweden calls him hence. But as for you, doubtless your 
 sagacity has placed all things beforehand in such train 
 that your presence can scarce be needed. Trust me, 
 your time shall not pass tediously with us; at ledst you 
 will find both me and my daughter heartily disposed to 
 do all in our power to pleasure you. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I doubt neither your goodwill towards me nor your 
 daughter's ; of that I have had ample proof. And I trust 
 you will not doubt that my presence elsewhere must be 
 vitally needful, since, despite of all, I must declare my 
 longer stay at Ostrat impossible. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Is it even so! — Know you. Sir Councillor, were I 
 evilly minded, I might fancy you had come to Ostrat to 
 try a fall with me, and that, having lost, you cared not 
 to linger on the battle-field among the witnesses of your 
 defeat. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Smiling.] There might be some show of reason for 
 such a reading of the case; but sure it is that as yet I 
 hold not the battle lost. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 However that may be, it might at any rate be retrieved, 
 if you would tarry some days with us. You see your- 
 self, I am still halting and wavering at the parting of the 
 ways, — persuading my redoubtable assailant not to quit 
 
134 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 the field. — Well, to speak plainly, the thing is this: your 
 alliance with the disaffected in Sweden still seems to me 
 somewhat — how shall I call it ? — somewhat miraculous. 
 Sir Councillor! I tell you this frankly, dear Sir! The 
 thought that has moved the King's Council to this se- 
 cret step is in truth most politic; but 'tis strangely at 
 variance with the deeds of certain of your countrymen 
 in bygone years. Be not offended, then, if my trust in 
 your fair prolnises needs to be somewhat strengthened 
 ere I can place my whole welfare in your hands. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 A longer stay at Ostrat would scarce help towards 
 that end ; since I purpose not to make any further effort 
 to shake your resolve. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 Then must I pity you from my heart. Ay, Sir Coun- 
 cillor — 'tis true I stand here an unfriended widow; yet 
 may you trust my word when I foretell that this visit to 
 Ostrat will strew your future path with thorns. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [With a smile.] Is that your forecast. Lady Inger? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Truly it is! What can one say, dear Sir? 'Tis an 
 age of tattling tongues. Many a scurril knave will make 
 jeering rhymes at your expense. Ere half a year is out, 
 you will be all men's fable; people will stop and gaze 
 after you on the high-roads; 'twill be: "Look, look; 
 there rides Sir Nils Lykke, that fared north to Ostrat to 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF O^TRAT 135 
 
 trap Inger Gyldenlove, and was caught in his own nets." 
 — Softly, softly, Sir Knight, why so impatient ! 'Tis not 
 that / think so; I do but forecast the thoughts of the 
 malicious and evil-minded; and of them, alas! there are 
 many. — Ay, 'tis shame; but so it is — you will reap nought 
 but mockery — mockery, because a woman was craftier 
 than you. "Like a cunning fox," men will say, "he 
 crept into Ostrat; like a beaten hound he slunk away." 
 — And one thing more: think you not that Peter Kanz- 
 ler and his friends will forswear your alliatice, when 'tis 
 known that I venture not to fight under a standard borne 
 by you ." 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You speak wisely, lady! Wherefore to secure me 
 from mockery — and not to endanger the alliance with 
 all our dear friends in Sweden — I must needs 
 
 Lady Ingek.\ 
 [Hastily !\ prolong your stay at Ostrat. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 [IFAo has been listening.] He is in the trap! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 No, my noble lady; — I must needs bring you to terms 
 within this hour. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 But what if you should fail ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 I shall not fail. 
 
136 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [actiy 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 You lack not confidence, it seems. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 What shall be the wager that you make not common 
 cause with myself and Peter Kanzler ? 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 Ostrat Castle against your knee-buckles! 
 
 Nii£ Lykke. 
 
 [Slaps his breast and cries:] Olaf Skaktavl — here 
 stands the master of Ostrat! 
 
 Lady In&er. 
 Sir Councillor :! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 [Rises from the table.] What now? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [To Lady Inger.] I accept not the wager; for in a 
 moment you will gladly give Ostrat Castle, and more to 
 boot, to be freed from the snare wherein not I but you 
 are tangled. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Your jest. Sir, grows a vastly merry one. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 'Twill be merrier yet — at least for me. You boast 
 that you have overreached me. You threaten to heap 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 137 
 
 on me all men's scorn and mockery. Ah, beware that 
 you stir not up my vengefulness; for with two words I 
 can bring you to your knees at my feet. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Ha-ha ! [Stops suddenly, as if struck by afore- 
 boding.] And these two words. Nils Lykke ? — these two 
 words ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 The secret of Sten Sture's son and yours. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 [With a shriek.] Oh, God in heaven ! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Inger Gyldenlove's son ! What say you ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Ha^ kneeling to Nils Lykke.] Mercy! oh, be mer- 
 ciful ! ^ 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Raises her up.] Collect yourself, and let us talk 
 together calmly. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [In a low voice, as though bewildered.] Did you hear 
 it, Olaf Skaktavl? Or was it but a dream? Heard 
 you what he said ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 It was no dream. Lady Inger! 
 
138 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 ' [Clasping her hands.] And you know it! You, — 
 you! — Where is he then? Where have you got him? 
 What would you do with him? [Screams.] Do not 
 kill him, Nils Lykke! Give him back to me! Do not 
 kill my child ! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Ah, I begin to understand 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 And this fear — this torturing dread! Through all 
 
 these weary years it has been ever with me and then 
 
 all fails at last, and I must, bear this agony!— Oh Lord 
 my God, is it right of thee ? Was it for this thou gavest 
 him to me ? 
 
 [Controls herself and says with forced composure: 
 
 Nils Lykke — tell me one thing. Where have you 
 got him ? Where is he ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 With his foster-father. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 Still with his foster-father. Oh, that merciless 
 man — ! For ever to deny me — . But it must not 
 go on thus! Help me, Olaf Skaktavl! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 I? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 There will be no need, if only you 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 139 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Hearken, Sir Councillor! What you know you shall 
 know thoroughly. And you too, my old and faithful 
 friend ! 
 
 Listen then. To-night you bade me call to mind 
 that fatal day when Knut Alfson was slain at Oslo. 
 You bade me remember the promise I made as I stood 
 by his corpse amid the bravest men in Norway. I was 
 scarce full-grown then; but I felt God's strength in me, 
 and methought, as many have thought since, that the 
 Lord himself had set his mark on me and chosen me to 
 fight in the forefront for my country's cause. 
 
 Was it pride of heart? Or was it a calling from on 
 high? That I have never clearly known. But woe to 
 whoso is charged with a mighty task. 
 
 For seven years I fear not to say that I kept my prom- 
 ise faithfully. I stood by my countrymen in all their 
 sufferings and their need. Platymates of mine, all over 
 the land, were wives and mothers now. I alone could 
 give ear to no wooer — not to one. , That you know best, 
 Olaf Skaktavl! 
 
 Then I saw Sten Sture for the first time. Fairer man 
 had never met my sight.' 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Ah, now it grows clear to me! Sten Sture was then 
 in Norway on a secret errand. We Danes were not to 
 know that he wished your friends well. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 In the guise of a mean serving-man he lived a whole 
 winter under one roof with me. 
 
140 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 That winter I thought less and less of the country's 
 
 weal. So fair a man had I never seen — and I had 
 
 lived well-nigh five-arfd-twenty years. 
 
 Next autumn Sten Sture came once more; and when 
 he departed again he took with him, in all secrecy, a little 
 child. 'Twas not folks' evil tongues I feared; but our 
 cause would have suffered had it got abroad that Sten 
 Sture stood so near to me. 
 
 The child was given to Peter Kanzler to rear. I 
 waited for better times, that were soon to come. They 
 never came. Sten Sture took a wife two years later in 
 Sweden, and, when he died, he left a widow — ■ — 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 And with her a lawful heir to his name and 
 
 rights. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Time after time I wrote to Peter Kanzler beseeching 
 ' him to give me back my child. But he was ever deaf 
 to my prayers. "Cast in your lot with us once for ail," 
 he said, "and I send your son back to Norway; not be- 
 fore." But 'twas even that I dared not do. We of the 
 disaffected party were then ill regarded by many tim- 
 orous folk in the land. Had these learnt how things 
 stood — oh, I know it! — to cripple the mother they had 
 gladly meted to the child the fate that would have been 
 King Christiern's had he not saved himself by flight.' 
 
 ' King Christian II. of Denmark (the perpetrator of the massacre 
 at Stockholm known as the Blood-Bath) fled to Holland in 1523, 
 five years before the date assigned to this play, in order to escape 
 death or imprisonment at the hands of his rebellious nobles, who 
 summoned his uncle, Frederick I., to the throne. Returning to 
 Denmark in 1532, Christian was thrown into prison, where he spent 
 the last twenty-seven years of his life. 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 141 
 
 But, besides that, the Danes, too, were active. They 
 spared neither threats nor promises to force me to join 
 them. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 'Twas but reason. The eyes of all men were fixed 
 on you as on the vane that should show them how to 
 shape their course. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Then came Herlof Hyttefad's rising. Do you remem- 
 ber that time, Olaf Skaktavl ? Was it not as though a 
 new spring had dawned over the whole land! Mighty 
 voices summoned me to come forth; — yet I dared not. I 
 stood doubting — far from the strife^in my lonely castle. 
 At times it seemed as though the Lord God himself were 
 calling me; but then would come the killing dread again 
 to benumb my will. "Who ,will win?" — that was 
 the question that was ever ringing in my ears. 
 
 'Twas but a short spring that had come to Norway. 
 Herlof Hyttefad, and many more with him, were broken 
 on the wheel during the months that followed. None 
 could call me to account; yet there lacked not covert 
 threats from Denmark. What if they knew the secret? 
 At last methought they must know; I knew not how 
 else to understand their words. 
 
 'Twas even in that time of agony that Gyldenlove, 
 the High Steward, came hither and sought me in mar- 
 riage. Let any mother anguished for her child think 
 herself in my place! — A month after, I was the High 
 Steward's wife — and homeless in the hearts of my coun- 
 trymen. 
 
 Then came the quiet years. No one raised his head 
 any more. Our masters might grind us down even as 
 
142 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [activ 
 
 heavily as they listed. There were times when I loathed 
 myself; for what had I to do ? Nought but to endure 
 terror and scorn and bring forth daughters into the world. 
 My daughters! God must forgive me if I have had no 
 mother's heart towards them. My wifely duties were 
 as serfdom to me; how then could I love my daughters.? 
 Oh, how different with my son! He was the child of 
 my very soul. He was the one thing that brought to 
 mind the time when I was a woman and nought but a 
 woman. — And him they had taken from me! He was 
 growing up among strangers, who might, mayhap, be 
 sowing in him the 'seed of corruption! Olaf Skaktavl 
 -^had I wandered, like you, on the lonely hills, hunted 
 and forsaken, in winter and storm — if I had but held my 
 child in my arms, — trust me, I had not sorrowed and 
 wept so sore as I have sorrowed and wept for him from 
 his birth even to this hour! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 There is my hand. I have judged you too hardly, 
 Lady Inger! Command me even as before; I will obey. 
 ^-Ay, by all the saints, I know what it is to sorrow for 
 a child. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Yours was slain by men of blood. But what is death 
 to the restless terror of all these long years ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Mark, then — 'tis in your power to end this terror. 
 You have but to make peace between the jarring fac- 
 tions, and neither will think of seizing on your child as 
 a pledge of your faith. 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OP OSTRAT 143 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 [To herself.] This is the vengeance of Heaven. 
 [Looks at him.] In one word, what do you demand ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 I demand first that you shall call the people of the 
 northern districts to arms, in support of the disaffected 
 in Sweden. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 And next ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 that you do your best to advance young Count 
 
 Sture's ancestral claim to the throne of Sweden. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 His? You demand that I 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 [Softly.] It is the wish of many Swedes, and 'twould 
 serve our turn too. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You hesitate, lady? You tremble for your son's 
 safety. What better can you wish than to see his half- 
 brother on the throne ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 [In thought.] True — true 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Looks at her sharply.] Unless there be other plans 
 afoot 
 
144 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 What mean you ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Inger Gyldenlove might have a mind to be — a king's 
 mother. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 No, no! Give me back my child, and let who will 
 have the crowns. 
 
 But know you so surely that Count Sture is wil- 
 ling ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Of that he will himself assure you. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Himself ? And when ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Even now. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 How now? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 What say you ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 In one word. Count Sture is in Ostrftt. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Here? 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 145 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [To Lady Inger.] You have doubtless heard that 
 another rode through the gate along with me? The 
 Count was my attendant. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Softly.] I am in his power. I have no longer any 
 choice. [Looks at him and says:] 'Tis well, Sir Coun- 
 cillor — -you shall have full assurance of my support. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 In writing? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 As, you will. 
 
 [Goes to the table on the left, sits down, and takes writ-' 
 ing materials from the drawer. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Aside, standing by the table on the right.] At last, 
 then, I win! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [After a moment's thought, turns suddenly in her chair 
 to Olaf Skaktavl and whispers.] Olaf Skaktavl — I 
 am certain of it now — Nils Lykke is a traitor! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 [Softly.] What? You think ? 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 He has treachery in his heart. 
 
 [Lays the paper before her and dips the pen in the ink. 
 
146 LADY INGER OP OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 And yet you would give him a written promise that 
 may be your ruin ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Hush; leave me to act. Nay, wait and listen first- 
 
 [Talks with him in a whisper. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Softly, watching them.] Ah, take counsel together as 
 much as ye list! All danger is over now. With her 
 written consent in my pocket, I can denounce her when- 
 ever I jplease. A secret message to Jens Bielke this very 
 night — . I tell him but the truth — that the young Count 
 Sture is not at Ostrat. And then to-morrow, when the 
 road is open — ^to Trondhiem with my young friend, and 
 thence by ship to Copenhagen with him as my pris- 
 oner. Once we have him safe in the castle-tower, we 
 can dictate to Lady Inger what terms we will. And 
 I — ? After this, methinks, the King will scarce place the 
 French mission in other hands .than mine. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Still whispering to Olaf Skaktavl.] Well, you un- 
 derstand me? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Ay, fully. Let us make the venture, even as you will. 
 
 [Goes out by the back, to the right. 
 
 [Nils Stensson comes in by the first door on the right, 
 
 unseen by Lady Ingeb, who has begun to write. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 [In a low voice.] Sir Knight, — Sir Knight! 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 147 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Moves towards him.] Rash boy! What would you 
 here ? Said I not you should wait within until I called 
 you? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 How could I ? Now you have told me that Inger 
 Gyldenlove is my mother, I thirst more than ever to see 
 her face to face 
 
 Oh, it is she! How proud and high her ^lien! Even 
 thus did I'ever picture her. Fear not, dear Sir, — I shall 
 do nought rashly. Since I have learnt this secret, I feel, 
 as it were, older and wiser. I will no longer be wild 
 and heedless; I will be even as other well-born youths. — 
 Tell me, — knows she that I am here ? Surely you have 
 prepared her? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Ay, sure enough; but 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Well? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 . She will not own you for her son. 
 
 Nils Stensson. ' 
 
 Will not own me ? But she i s my mother. — Oh, if 
 it be that she doubts t h at' — [takes out a ring which he 
 wears on a cord round his neck] — show her this ring. I 
 have worn it since my earliest childhood ; she must surely 
 know its history. 
 
148 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 . Hide the ring, man! Hide it, I say! 
 
 You mistake me. Lady Inger doubts not at all that 
 you are her child; but — ay, look about you; look at all 
 this wealth; look at these mighty forefathers and kins- 
 men whose pictures deck the walls both high and low; 
 look lastly at herself, the haughty dame, used to bear 
 sway as the first noblewoman in the kingdom. Think 
 you it can be to her mind to take a poor ignorant youth by 
 the hand before all men's eyes and say: Behold my son! 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ay, doubtless you are right. I am poor and ignorant. 
 I have nought to offer her in return for what I crave. 
 Oh, never have I felt my poverty^ weigh on me till this 
 hour! But tell me — what think you I should do to win 
 her favour? Tell me, dear Sir; sure you must know! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 You must win your father's kingdom. But until that 
 may be, look well that you wound not her ears by hint- 
 ing at kinship or the like. She will bear her as though 
 she believed you to be the real Count Sture, until you 
 have made yourself worthy to be called her son. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Oh, but tell me ! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Hush; hush! 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 [Rises and hands him a paper.] Sir Knight — here is 
 my promise. 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OP OSTRAT 149 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 I thank you. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 [Notices Nils Stensson.] Ah^ — this young man 
 
 is ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Ay, Lady Inger, he is Count Sture. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 [Aside, looks at him stealthily.] Feature for feature; 
 — ay, by God, — it is Sten Sture's son! 
 
 [Approaches him and says with cold courtesy: 
 I bid you welcome under my roof, Count! It rests 
 with you whether or not we shall bless this meeting a 
 year hence. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 With me ? Oh, do but tell me what I must do ! 
 Trust me, I have both courage and will 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Listens uneasily.] What is this noise and uproar. 
 Lady Inger? There are people pressing hitherward. 
 What does this mean ? 
 
 Lady Ingee. 
 
 [In a loud voice.] 'Tis the spirits awaking! 
 
 [Olaf Skaktavl, Einar Huk, Biohn, Finn, and a 
 number q/" Peasants and Retainers come in from 
 the back, on the right. 
 
 The Peasants and Retainers. 
 Hail to Lady Inger Gyldenlove! 
 
150 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [To Olap Skaktavl.] Have you told them what is 
 afoot ? 
 
 Olap Skaktavl. 
 
 I have told them all they need to know. 
 
 Lady Inger. . 
 
 [To the Crowd.] Ay, now, my faithful house-folk 
 and peasants, now must ye arm yo~u as best you can 
 and will. That which earlier to-night I forbade you, ye 
 have now my fullest leave to do. And here I present to 
 you the young Count Sture, the coming ruler of Sweden 
 — and Norway too, if God will it so. 
 
 The Whole Crowd. 
 
 Hail to him! Hail to Count Sture! 
 
 [General r-dtement. The Peasants and Retain- 
 ers choose out weapons and pvt on breastplates and 
 helmets, amid great noise. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Softly and uneasily.] The spirits awaking, she said ? 
 I but feigned to conjure up the devil of revolt — 'twere a 
 cursed spite if he got the upper hand of us. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [To Nils Stensson.] Here I give you the first earn- 
 est of our service — thirty mounted men, to follow you 
 as a bodyguard. Trust me — ere you reach the fron- 
 tier many hundreds will have ranged themselves under 
 my banner and yours. Go, then, and God be with you! 
 
ACT IV] , LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 151 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Thanks, — Inger Gyldenlove! Thanks — and be sure 
 you shall never have cause to shame you for — for Count 
 Sture! If you see me again, I shall have won my father's 
 kingdom. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [To himself.] Ay, if she see you again! 
 
 * 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 The horses wait, good fellows ! Are ye ready ? 
 
 The Peasants. 
 Ay' ay, ay! . „^,^' 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Uneasily, to Lady Ingeb.] What? You mean not 
 to-night, even now ? • 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 This very moment. Sir Knight! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Nay, nay, impossible! 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 I have said it. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Softly, to Nils Stensson.] Obey her not! r 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 How can I do aught else ? I will; I must! 
 
152 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 But 'tis your certain ruin 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 What then ! Her must I obey in all things 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 [With authority.] And me? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 I shall keep my word; be sure of that. The secret 
 shall not pass my lips till you yourself release me. But 
 she is my mother! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Aside.] And Jens Bielke in wait on the road ! Dam- 
 nation! He will snatch the prize out of my fingers^ 
 
 [To Lady Inger.] Wait till to-morrow! 
 
 Lady Ingee. 
 
 [To Nils Stensson.] Count Sture — do you obey me 
 or not? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 To horse! [Goes up towards the backgrounds 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Aside.] Unhappy boy! He knows not what he does. 
 
 [To Lady Ingeb. 
 Well, since so it must be, — farewell! 
 
 [Bows hastily, and begins to move away. 
 
ACTiv] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 153 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 [Detains him.] Nay, stay! Not so. Sir Knight, — 
 
 not so! 
 
 I 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 What mean you? 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 [In a low voice.] Nils Lykke — ^you are a traitor! 
 Hush! Let no one see there is discord in the camp of 
 the leaders. You have won Peter Kanzler's trust by 
 some devilish wile that as yet is dark to me. You have 
 forced me to rebellious acts — not to help our cause, but 
 to further your own plots, whatever they may be. I 
 can draw back no more. But think not therefore that 
 you have conquered! I shall know how to make you 
 harmless 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Lays his hand involuntarily on his sword.] Lady 
 , Inger! 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Be calm, Sir Councillor! Your life is safe. But you 
 come not outside the gates of Ostrat before victory is 
 ours. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Death and destruction! 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 It boots not to resist. You come not from this place. 
 So rest you quiet; 'tis your wisest course. 
 
154 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [To himself.] Ah, — I am overreached. She has been 
 craftier than I. [A thought strikes him.] But if I yet ? 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 [To Olaf Skaktavl.] Ride with Count Sture's 
 troops to the frontier; then without pause to Peter 
 Xanzler, and bring me bacKr my child. Now, has he no 
 longer any plea for keeping from me what is my own. 
 
 [Adds, as Olaf Skaktavl is going: 
 
 Wait; a token — . He that wears Sten Sture's ring, 
 he is my son. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 By all the saints, you shall have him! 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 Thanks,— thanks, my faithful friend! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [To Finn, whom he has beckoned to him, unobserved, 
 and with whom he has been whispering.] Good — now 
 contrive to slip out. Let none see you. The Swedes 
 are in ambush half a league hence. Tell the commander 
 that Count Sture is dead. The young man you see there 
 must on no account be touched. Tell the commander 
 so. Tell him the boy's life is worth thousands to me. 
 
 Finn. 
 It shall be done. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 [Who has meanwhile been watching Nils Lykke.] 
 And now go, all of you, and God be with you! [Points 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT ISS" 
 
 to Nils Lykke.] This noble knight cannot find it in his 
 heart to leave his friends at Ostrat so hastily. He will 
 abide here with me till the tidings of your victory arrive. 
 
 Nils Lykki;. 
 [To himself.] Devil! 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Seizes his hand.] Trust me — you shall not have long 
 to wait! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 It is well; it is well! [^side.] All may yet be saved. 
 If only my message reach Jens Bielke in time 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [To EiNAB HuK, the bailiff, pointing to Finn.] And 
 let that man be placed under close guard in the castle 
 dungeon. 
 
 Finn. 
 Me? 
 
 The Bailiff and the Servants. 
 Finn! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Aside.] My last anchor gone ! 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Imperatively.] To the dungeon with him! 
 
 [EiNAB HuK, BioBN, and a couple of the house- 
 servants lead Finn out to the left. 
 
156 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv 
 
 All the Rest. 
 
 [Except Nils Lykke, rushing out to the right.] Away! 
 To horse, — to horse ! Hail to Lady Inger Gyldenlove ! 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Passing close to Nils Lykke as she goes out after the 
 others.] Who wins ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Remains alone.] Who? Ay, woe to you; — your vic- 
 tory will cost you dear. / wash my hands of it. 'Tis 
 not I that am murdering him. 
 
 But my prey is escaping me none the less; and the 
 revolt will grow and spread! — Ah, 'tis a foolhardy, a 
 frantic game I have here .taken in hand ! [Listens at the 
 vnndow.] There they ride clattering out through the 
 gateway .-tNow 'tis closed after them — and I am left here 
 a prisoner. 
 
 No way of escape! Within half-an-hour the Swedes 
 will be upon him. He has thirty well-armed horsemen 
 with him. 'Twill be life or death. 
 
 But if, after all, they should take him alive ? — Were I 
 but free, I could overtake the Swedes ere they reach the 
 frontier, and make them deliver him up. [Goes towards 
 the window in the background and looks out.] Damna- 
 tion! Guards outside on every hand. Can there be no 
 way of escape ? 
 
 [Comes quickly forward again; suddenly stops and 
 listens. 
 
 What is that ? Music and singing. It seems to come 
 from Elina's chamber. Ay, 'tis ^he that is singing. 
 Then she is still awake [A thought seems to strike 
 
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 157 
 
 him.] Elina! — Ah, if that could be! Were it possi- 
 ble to — Aiid why should I not ? Am I not still my- 
 self ? Says not the song: — 
 
 Fair maidens a-many they sigh and they pine: 
 "Ah God, that Nils Lykke were mine, mine, mine." 
 
 And she — ? -Elina Gyldenlove shall set me free! 
 
 [Goes quickly but stealthily towards the first door on 
 the left. 
 
ACT FIFTH 
 
 The Banquet Hall. It is still night. The hall is but 
 dimly lighted by a branch-candlestick on the table, in 
 front, on the right. 
 
 Lady Inger is sitting by the table, deep in thought. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 [After a pause.] They call me keen-wilted beyond all 
 others in the land. I believe they are right. The keen- 
 est-witted — No one knows how I became so. For 
 qiore than twenty years I have fought to save my child. 
 That is the key to the riddle.. Ay, that sharpens the 
 Yits! 
 
 My wits? Where have they flown to-night? What 
 has become of my forethought ? There is a ringing and 
 rushing in my ears. I see shapes before me, so lifelike 
 that methinks I could lay hold on them. [Springs up.] 
 Lord Jesus — what is this? Am I no longer mistress of 
 
 my reason? Is it to come to that ? [Presses her 
 
 clasped hands over her head; sits down again, and says 
 more calmly:] Nay, 'tis nought. 'Twill pass. There is 
 no fear; — it will pass. 
 
 How peaceful it is in the hall to-night! No threaten- 
 ing looks from forefathers or kinsfolk. No need to turn 
 their faces to the wall. [Rises again.] Ay, 'twas well 
 that I took heart at last. We shall conquer;^and then 
 am I at the goal of all my longings. I shall have my 
 
 XS8 
 
ACTv] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 159 
 
 child again. [Takes up the light as if to go, but stops 
 and says musingly:] At the goal ? The goal ? To have 
 him back ? Is that all ? — is there nought further ? [Sets 
 the light down on the table.] That heedless word that Nils 
 Lykke threw forth at random — . How could he see my 
 unborn thought ? [More softly. 
 
 A king's mother? A king's mother, he said — And 
 why not ? Have not my fathers before me ruled as kings, 
 even though they bore not the kingly name ? Has not 
 my son as good a title as the other to the rights of the 
 house of Sture? In the sight of God he has — if so be 
 there is justice in Heaven. 
 
 And in an hour of terror I have signed away his rights. 
 I have recklessly squandered them, as a ransom for his 
 freedom. 
 
 If they could be recovered ? — Would Heaven be 
 angered, if I — ? Would it call down fresh troubles on 
 my head if I were to — ? Who kpows; — who knows! It 
 may be safest to refrain. [Takes up the light again.] I 
 shall have my child again. That must content me. I 
 will try to rest. All these desperate thoughts, — I will 
 isleep them away. 
 
 [Goes towards the back, but stops in the middle of the 
 hall, and says broodingly: 
 A king's mother! 
 
 [Goes slowly out at the back, to the left. 
 
 [After a short pause. Nils Lykke and Elina 
 
 Gyldenlove enter noiselessly by the first door on 
 
 the left. Nils Lykke has a small lantern in his 
 
 hand. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Throws the light from his lantern around, so as to 
 search the room.] All is still. I must begone. 
 
160 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act y 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Oh, let me look but once more into your eyes, before 
 you leave me. 
 
 Nils Ltkkb. 
 [Embraces her.] Elina! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [After a short pause.] Will you come nevermore to 
 Ostrat ? 
 
 Nils Ltkke. 
 
 How can you doubt that I will come? Are you not 
 henceforth my betrothed ? — But will you be true to 
 m e, Elina ? Will you not forget me ere we meet again ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Do you ask if I will be true ? Have I any will left 
 then? Have I power to be untrue to you, even if I 
 would ? — You came by night; you knocked upon my door; 
 — and I opened to, you. You spoke to me. What was it 
 you said ? You gazed in my eyes. What was the mys- 
 tic might that turned my brain, and lured me as into a 
 magic net ? [Hides her face on his shoulder.] Oh, look 
 not on me. Nils Lykke! You must not look upon me 
 after this — True, say you ? Do you not own me ? I 
 am yours; — I must be yours — to all eternity. 
 
 Nils Ltkke. 
 
 Now, by my knightly honour, ere the year be past, you 
 shall sit as my wife in the hall of my fathers! 
 
ACTV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 161 
 
 Elina. 
 No vows. Nils Lykke! No oaths to me. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 What ails you ? Why do you shake your head so 
 mournfully ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Because I know that the same soft words wherewith 
 you turned my brain, you have whispered to so many a 
 one before. Nay, nay, be not angry, my beloved! In 
 nowise do I reproach you, as I did while yet I knew 
 you not. Now I understand how high above all others 
 is your goal. How can love be aught to you but a 
 pastime, or woman but a toy ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Elina, — hear me! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 As I grew up, your name was ever in my cars. I 
 hated the name, for meseemed that all women were dis- 
 honoured by your life. And yet, — how strange! — -when 
 I built up in my dreams the life that should be mine, 
 you were ever my hero, though I knew it not. Now I 
 understand it all. What was it that I felt? It was a 
 foreboding, a mysterious longing for you, you only one 
 — for you that were one day to come and reveal to me 
 all the glory of life. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Aside, putting down the lantern on the table.'] How is 
 it with me ? This dizzy fascination — . . If this it be to 
 
162 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 love, then have I never known it till this hour. — Is there 
 not yet time — ? Oh horror — Lucia ! 
 
 \Sinks into the chair. 
 
 Elina. 
 What is amiss with you ? So heavy a sigh 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 O, 'tis nought, — nought! 
 
 Elina, — now will I confess all to you. I have beguiled 
 many with both words and glances; I have said to many 
 a one what I whispered to you this night. But trust 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Hush! No more of that. My love is no exchange for 
 that you give me. No, no; I love you because your 
 every glance commands it like a king's decree. [Lies 
 down at his feet.] Oh; let me once more stamp that 
 kingly mandate deep into my soul, though well I know 
 it stands imprinted there for all time and eternity. 
 
 Dear God — how little I have known myself! 'Twas 
 but to-night I said to my mother: "My pride is my life." 
 And what is now my pride ? Is it to know my country- 
 men free, or my house held in honour throughout malny 
 lands? Oh, no, no! My love is my pride. The little 
 dog is proud when he may sit by his master's feet and 
 eat bread-crumbs from his hand. Even so am I proud, 
 so long as I may sit at your feet, while your looks and 
 your words nourish me with the bread of life. See, 
 therefore, I say to you, even as I said but now to my 
 mother: "My love is my life;" for therein lies all my 
 pride, now and evermore. 
 
ACT V] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 163 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Raises her up on his lap.] Nay, nay — not at my feet, 
 but at my side is your place, — how high soever fate may 
 exalt me. Ay, Elina — ^you have led me into a better 
 path; and should it one day be granted me to atbne by 
 a deed of fame for the sins of my reckless youth, then 
 shall the honour be yours and mine together. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Ah, you speak as though I were still that Elina who 
 but this evening flung down the flowers at your feet. 
 
 I have read in my books of the many-coloured life in 
 far-off lands. To the winding of horns, the knight rides 
 forth into the greenwood, with his falcon on his wrist. 
 Even so do you go your way through life; — your name 
 rings out before you whithersoever you fare. — All that 
 I desire of the glory, is to rest like the falcon on your 
 arm. Like him was I, too, blind to light and life, till 
 you loosed the hood from my eyes and set me soaring 
 high over the tree-tops. — But trust me — bold as my 
 flight may be, yet shall I ever turn back to my cage. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Rises.] Then will I bid defiance to the past! See 
 now; — take this ring, and be mine before God and 
 men — m i n e , — ay, though it should trouble the dreams 
 of the dead. J 
 
 Elina. 
 
 You make me tremble. What is it that ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 'Tis nought. Come, let me place the ring on your 
 finger. — Even so — now are you my betrothed ! 
 
164 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 Elina. 
 
 I Nils Lykke's bride! It seems but a dream, all that 
 has befallen this night. Oh, but so fair a dream! My 
 breast is so light. No longer is there bitterness and 
 hatred in my soul. I will atone to all whom I have 
 wronged, I have been unloving to my mother. To- 
 morrow will I go to her; she must forgive me where I 
 have erred. 
 
 Nils Ltkke. 
 
 And give her consent to our bond. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 That will she. Oh, I am sure she will. My mother is 
 kind; all the world is kind; — I can no longer feel hatred 
 for any living soul — save one. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Save one? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Ah, 'tis a mournful history. I had a sister 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Lucia ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Did you know Lucia." 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 No, no; I have but heard her name. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 She too gave her heart to a knight. He betrayed her; 
 — now she is in Heaven. 
 
ACTV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 165 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 And you 
 
 ElilNA. 
 
 I hate him. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Hate him not! If there be mercy in your heart, for- 
 give him his sin. Trust me, he bears his punishment in 
 his own breast. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Him will I never forgive ! I cannot, even if I 
 would; for I have sworn so dear an oath [Listen- 
 ing.] Hush! Can you hear ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 What ? Where ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Without; far off. The noise of many horsemen on the 
 high-road. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Ah, 'tis they ! And I had forgotten — ! They are 
 coming hither. Then is the danger great! I must be- 
 gone ! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 But whither? Oh, Nils Lykke, what are you hid- 
 ing ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 To-morrow, Elica — ; for as God lives, I will return 
 to-morrow. — Quickly now — where is the secret. passage 
 whereof you told me ? 
 
166 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Through the - grave- vault. See, — here is the trap- 
 door 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 The grave-vault! [To himself .] No matter, he m u s t 
 be saved! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [By the window.] The horsemen have reached the 
 gate [Hands him the lantern. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Oh, then- [Begins to descend. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Go forward along the passage till you reach the cof- 
 fin with the death's-head and the black cross; it is 
 Lucia's 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Climbs back hastily and shvts the trap-door.] Lucia's! 
 Pah ! 
 
 Elina. 
 What said you ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Nay, nothing. 'Twas the air of the graves that made 
 me dizzy. 
 
 Elina. 
 Hark; they are hammering at the gate! 
 
ACT V] LADY INGER OP OSTRAT 167 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Lets the lantern fall.] Ah! too late ^^! 
 
 [BioBN enters hurriedly from the right, carrying a 
 light. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [Goes towards him.] What is amiss, Biorn? What 
 is it? 
 
 BiOrn. 
 
 An ambuscade! Count Sture 
 
 Elina. 
 Count Sture? What of him? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Have they killed him ? 
 
 Biorn. 
 [To Elina.] Where is your mother ? 
 
 Two Retainers. 
 
 [Rushing in from the right.] Lady Inger! Lady 
 Inger! . 
 
 [Lady Inger Gyldenlove eniers by the furthest 
 back door on the left, with a branch-candlestick, 
 lighted, in her hand, and says quickly: 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 I know all. Down with you to the courtyard! Keep 
 the gate open for our friends, but closed against all 
 others! 
 
168 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 [Puts down the candlestick on the table to the left. 
 BioRN and the two Retainebs go out again to the 
 right. 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 [To Nils Lykke.] So that was the trap, Sir 
 Councillor!. 
 
 .1 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 Inger Gyldenlove, believe me 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 An ambuscade that was to snap him up as soon as 
 you had secured the promise that should destroy me! 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Takes out the paper and tears it to pieces.] There is 
 your promise. I keep nothing that can bear witness 
 against you. 
 
 What is this ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 From this hour will I put your thoughts of me to shame. 
 If I have sinned against you, — by Heaven I will strive to 
 repair my crime. But now I must out, if I have to 
 hew my way through the gate! — Elina — tell your mother 
 all !^ And you, Lady Inger, let our reckoning be for- 
 gotten! Be generous— and silent! Trust me, ere dawn 
 of day you shall owe me a life's gratitude. 
 
 [Goes out quickly to the right. 
 
ACTV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 169 
 
 Laety Inger. 
 
 [Looks after him with exultation.] 'Tis well! I un- 
 derstand him. [Turns to Elina. 
 NilsLykke— ? Well ? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 He knocked upon my door, and set this ring upon my 
 finger. 
 
 Lady Ingek 
 And from his soul he holds you dear ? 
 
 Elina. 
 He has said so, and I believe him. 
 
 Lady Inger 
 
 Bravely done, Elina ! Ha-ha, Sir Knight, now is it my 
 turn! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 My mother — you are so strange. Ah, yes — I know — 
 'tis my unloving ways that have angered you. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Not so, dear Elina! You are an obedient child. You 
 have opened your door to him; you have hearkened to 
 his soft words. I know full well what it must have cost 
 you; for I know your hatred 
 
 Elina. 
 But, my mother 
 
170 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Hush! We have played into each other's hands. What 
 wiles did you use, my subtle daughter ? I sdw the love 
 shine out of his eyes. Hold him fast now ! Draw the net 
 closer and closer about him; and then — Ah, Elina, if 
 we could but rend asunder his perjured heart within his 
 breast! 
 
 Elina. 
 
 Woe is me — what is it you say ? 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Let not your courage fail you. Hearken to me.' I 
 know a word that will keep you firm. Know then — 
 [Listening.] They are fighting before the gate. Cour- 
 age! Now comes the pinch! [Turns again to Ei^ina.] 
 Know then: Nils Lykke was the man that brought your 
 sister to her grave. 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [With a shriek.] Lucia! 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 He it was, as truly as there is an Avenger above us! 
 
 Elina. 
 Then Heaven be with me! 
 
 Lady Ingeb, 
 [Appalled.] Elina ?! 
 
 ^ Elina. 
 I am his bride in the sight of God. 
 
ACT V] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 171 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Unhappy child, — what have you done? 
 
 Elina. 
 
 [In a toneless voice.] Made shipwreck of my soul. — 
 Good-night, my mother! [She goes out to the left. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 
 Ha-ha-ha ! It goes down-hill apace with Inger Gylden- 
 love's house. There went the last of my daughters. 
 
 Why could I not keep silence ? Had she known 
 nought, it may be she had been happy — after a kind. 
 
 It w a s to be so. It is written up yonder in the stars 
 that I am to break oflE one green branch after anothe]^ till 
 the trunk stand leafless at last. 
 
 'Tis well, 'tis well! I shall have my son again. Of 
 the others, of my daughters, I will not think. 
 
 My reckoning? To face my reckoning? — It falls not 
 due till the last great day of wrath. — T hat comes not 
 yet awhile. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Calling from outside on the right.] Ho — shut the gate ! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Count Sture's voice 1 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Rushes in, unarmed, and with his clothes torn, and 
 shouts with a laugh of desperation.] Well met again, 
 Inger Gyldenlove! 
 
172 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 What have you lost ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 My kingdom and my life! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 And the peasants ? My servants ? — where are they ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 You will find the carcasses along the highway. Who 
 has the rest, I cannot tell you. 
 
 Olap Skaktavl. 
 [Outside on the right.] Count Sture ! Where are you ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Here, here! 
 
 [Olaf Skaktavl comes in with his right hand 
 wrapped in a clout. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Alas, Olaf Skaktavl, you too 1 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 'Twas impossible to break through. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 You are wounded, I see! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 A finger the less; that is all. 
 
ACTV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 173 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Where are the Swedes? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 At our heels. They are breaking open the gate 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Oh, God ! No, no ! I c a n n o t — I will not die. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 A hiding-place, Lady Inger ! Is there no corner where 
 we can hide him ? 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 But if they search the castle— ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ay, ay; they will find me! And then to be dragged 
 
 away to prison, or be strung up- ! No, no, Inger 
 
 Gyldenlove, — I know full well, — you will never suffer 
 that to be! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 [Listening.] There burst the lock. 
 
 Lady Ingeh. 
 [At the window.] Many men rush in at the gateway. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 And to lose my life now! Now, when my true 
 life was but beginning! Now, when I have so lately 
 
174 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 learnt that I have aught to live for. No, no, no ! — Think 
 not I am a coward, Inger Gyldenlove! Might I but 
 have time to show 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 I hear them now in the hall below. 
 
 [Firmly to Olaf Skaktavl. 
 He must be saved — cost what it will ! 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [Seizes her hand.] Oh, I knew it; — you are noble and 
 good! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 But how ? Since we cannot hide him 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Ah, I have it! I have it! The secret ! 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 The secret? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Even so; yours and mine! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Merciful Heaven — you know it ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 From first to last. And now when 'tis life or death — 
 Where is Nils Lykke ? 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 Fled. 
 
ACT V] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 175 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Fled? Then God help me; for he alone can unseal 
 my lips. — But what is a promise against a life! When 
 the Swedish captain comes 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 What then ? What will you do ? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 Purchase life and freedom;— tell him all. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Oh no, no; — be merciful! 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Nought else can save me. When I have told him 
 what I know ^ 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Looks at him with suppressed agitation.] You will be 
 safe? 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 Ay, safe ! Nils Lykke will speak for me. You see, 'tis 
 the last resource. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Composedly, with emphasis.] The last resource? 
 Right, right — the last resource all are free to try. [Points 
 to the left.] See, meanwhile you can hide in there. 
 
 Nils Stensson. 
 
 [In a low voice.] Trust me — ^you will never repent of 
 this. 
 
176 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 [Half to herself.] God grant that you speak the truth! 
 [Nils Stensson goes out hastily by the furthest door 
 on the left. Olaf Skaktavl is following; but 
 Lady Ingek detains him. 
 
 Lady Inger, 
 Did you understand his meaning ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 The dastard ! He would betray your secret. He would 
 sacrifice your son to s'ave himself. 
 
 Lady Ingee. 
 
 When life is at stake, he said, we must try the last re- 
 source. — 'Tis well, Olaf Skaktavl, — let it be as he has 
 said! 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 What mean you ? 
 
 Lady Ingek. 
 
 Life against life! One of them must perish. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 Ah — ^you would ? 
 
 . Lady Inger. 
 
 If we close not the lips of him that is within ere he 
 come to speech with the Swedish captain, then is my 
 son lost to me. But if, on the other hand, he be swept 
 from my path, when the time comes I can claim all his 
 
ACTV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 177 
 
 rights for my own child. Then shall you see that Inger ' 
 Ottisdaughter has metal in her yet. Of this be assured 
 — you shall not have long to wait for the vengeance you 
 have thirsted after for twenty years. — Hark! They are 
 coming up the stairs! Olaf Skaktavl, — it lies with you 
 whether to-morrow I shall be no more than a childless 
 woman, or 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 So be it! I have yet one sound hand left. [Gives her 
 his hand.] Inger Gyldenlove — your name shall not die 
 out through me. 
 
 [Follows Nils Stensson into the inner room. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Pale and trembling.] But dare I ? 
 
 [A noise is heard in the room; she rushes with a 
 scream, towards the door. *■ 
 No, no, — it must not be! 
 
 [A heavy fall is heard within; she covers her ears 
 with her hands and hurries hack across the hall 
 with a wild hole. After a pause she takes her hands 
 cautiously away, listens again, and says softly: 
 
 Now it is over. All is still within 
 
 Thou sawest it, God — I repented me! But Olaf 
 Skaktavl was too swift of hand. 
 
 [Olaf Skaktavl comeif silently into the hall. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 [After a pause, withoui looking at him.] Is it done ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 You need fear him no more; he will betray no one. 
 
178 LADY INGER OP OSTRAT [act v 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 [As before.] Then he is dumb ? 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 Six inches of steel in his breast. I felled him with my 
 left hand. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Ay, ay — the right was too good for such woifk. 
 
 Olaf Skaktavl. 
 
 That is your affair; — the thought was yours. — And 
 now to Sweden! Peace be with you meanwhile! When 
 next we meet at Ostrat, I shall bring another with me. 
 [Goes ovt by the furthest door on the right. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Blood on my hands. Then 'twas to come to that! — 
 He begins to be dear-bought now. 
 
 [BioRN comes in, with a number of Swedish Men-at- 
 Abms, by the first door on the right. 
 
 One of the Men-at-Abms. 
 Pardon, if you are the lady of the house 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 Is it Count Sture ye seek ? 
 
 The Man-at-Arms. 
 The same. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Then you are on the right track. The Count has 
 sought refuge with me. 
 
ACTv] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 179 
 
 The Man-at-Abms. 
 
 Refuge ? Pardon, my noble lady, — you have no power 
 to harbour him; for 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 That the Count himself has doubtless understood; and 
 therefore he has — ay, look for yourselves — therefore he 
 has taken his own life. 
 
 The Man-at-Arms. 
 His own life! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Look for yourselves, I say. You will find the corpse 
 within there. And since he already stands before another 
 judge, it is my prayer that he may be borne hence with ail 
 the honour that beseems his noble birth. — Biorn, you 
 know my own coffin has stood ready this many a year 
 in the sectet chamber. [To the Men- at- Arms.] I pray 
 that in it you will bear Count Sture's body to Sweden. 
 
 The Man-at-Abms. 
 
 It shall be as you command. [To one of the others.] 
 Haste with these tidings to Jens Bielke. He holds the 
 ro?id with the rest of the troop. We others must in 
 
 and 
 
 [One of the Men- at- Arms goes out to the right; the 
 others go with Biobn into the room on the left. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Moves about for a time in uneasy silence.] If Count 
 Sture had not taken such hurried leave of the world. 
 
180 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 within a month he had hung on a gallows, or had lain 
 for all his days in a dungeon. Had he been better 
 served with such a lot ? 
 
 Or else he had bought his life by betraying my child 
 into the hands of my foes. Is it /, then, that have 
 slain him? Does not even the wolf defend her cubs? 
 Who dare condemn me for striking my claws into him 
 that would have reft me of my flesh and blood ? — It had 
 to be. No mother but would have done even as I. 
 
 But 'tis no time for idle musings now. I must to work. 
 [Sits down by the table on the left. 
 
 I will write to all my friends throughout the land. 
 They must rise as one man to support the great cause. 
 
 A new king, — regent first, and then king • [Begins to 
 
 write, but falls into thought, and says softly:] Who will be 
 chosen in the dead man's place ? — ^A king's mother — ? 
 'Tis a fair word. It has but one blemish — the hateful 
 likeness to another word. — King's mother and — 
 king's murderer ' — King's murderer — one that takes 
 a king's life. King's mother — one that gives a king 
 life. [She rises. 
 
 Well, then; I will make good what I have taken. — My 
 son shall be a king! 
 
 [She sits down again and begins writing, but pushes 
 the paper away again, and leans back in her chair. 
 
 There is ever an eerie teeling in a house where lies a 
 corpse. 'Tis therefore my mood is so strange. [Turns 
 her head to one side as if speaking to some one.] Not 
 therefore ? Why else shoiild it be ? [Broodingly. 
 
 Is there such a great gulf, then, between openly striking 
 down a foe and slaying one thus? Knut Alfson had 
 cleft many a brow with his sword; yet was his own as 
 
 'The words in the original are "Kongemoder" and "Konge- 
 morder," a difference of one letter only. 
 
ACTV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 181 
 
 peaceful as a child's. Why then do I ever see this — 
 [makes a motion as though striking with (tknife] — this stab 
 in the heart — and the gush of red blood after ? [Rings, 
 and goes on speaking while shifting about her papers.] 
 Hereafter I will have nought to do with such ugly sights. 
 I will be at work "both day and night. And in a month — 
 in a month my son will be here 
 
 BlOBN. 
 
 [Entering.] Did you strike the bell, my lady ? 
 
 Ladt Ingeb. 
 
 [Writing.] Bring more lights. See to it in future that 
 there are many lights in the room. 
 
 [BioKN goes out again to the left. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [After a pause, rises impetuously.] No, no, no; — I can- 
 not guide the pen to-night! My head is burning and 
 
 throbbing [Startled, listens.] What is that? 
 
 Ah, they are screwing the lid on the coffin. 
 
 They told me when I was a child the story of Sir 
 Aage,' who rose up and walked with his coffin on his 
 back.^ — If he in there bethought him one night to come 
 with the coffin on his back, and thank me for the loan ? 
 [Laughs quietly.] H'm — what have we grown people td 
 do with childish fancies? [Vehemently.] Nevertheless, 
 such stories do no good! They give uneasy dreams. 
 When my son is king, they shall be forbidden. 
 
 [Paces up and down once or twice; then opens the 
 window. 
 
 ' Pronounce OaghS. 
 
182 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 How long is it, commonly, ere a body begins to rot? 
 All the rooms must be aired. 'Tis not wholesome here 
 till that be done. 
 
 [BibBN comes in with two lighted hranch-candhsticks, 
 which he places on the tables. 
 
 Ladt Ingeb. 
 
 [Who has set to work at the papers again.] It is well. 
 See you forget not what I have said. Many lights on 
 the table! 
 
 What are they about now in there ? 
 
 BlOEN. 
 
 They are still screwing down the coflSn-lid. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 [Writing.] Are they screwing it down tight ? 
 
 BlOKN. 
 
 As tight as need be. 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 Ay, ay — who can tell how tight it needs to be ? Do 
 you see that 'tis well done. [Goes y,p to him with her 
 hand full of papers, and says mysteriously:] Biorn, you 
 are an old man; but one counsel I, will give you. Be 
 on your guard against all men — both those that are 
 dead and those that are still to die. — Now go in — go in 
 and see to it that they screw the lid down tightly. 
 
 Biorn. 
 
 [Softly, shaking his head.] I cannot make her out. 
 [Goes back again into the room on the left. 
 
ACTV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 183 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Begins to seal a letter, but throws it down half-closed; 
 walks up and down awhile, and then says vehemently:] 
 Were I a coward I had never done it — never to all 
 eternity!, Were I a covsrard, I had shrieked to myself: 
 Refrain, while there is yet a shred of hope for the saving 
 of thy soul! 
 
 [Her eye falls on Sten Sture's picture; she turns to 
 avoid seeing it, and says softly: 
 He is laughing down at me as though he were alive! 
 Pah! 
 
 [Turns the picture to the wall without looking at it. 
 Wherefore did you laugh ? Was it because I did evil 
 to your son? But the other, — is not he your son too? 
 And he is mine as well; mark that! 
 
 [Glances stealthily along the row of pictures. 
 So wild as they are to-night, I have never seen them 
 yet. Their eyes follow me wherever I may go. [Stamps 
 on the floor.] I will not have it! I will have peace in my 
 house! [Begins to turn all the pictures to the wall.] Ay, 
 if it were the Holy Virgin herself — ^— Thinkest thou 
 
 now is the time ? Why didst thou never hear 
 
 my prayers, my burning prayers, that I might have my 
 child again ? Why ? Because the monk of Wittenberg 
 is right: There is no mediator between God and man! 
 [She draws her breath heavily, and continues in ever- 
 increasing distraction. 
 'Tis well that I know what to think in such things. 
 There was no one to see what was done in there. There 
 is none to bear witness against me. 
 
 [Suddenly stretches out her hands and whispers: 
 
 My son! My beloved child! Come to me! Here I 
 
 am!— Hush! I will tell you something: They hate me 
 
184 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v 
 
 up there — beyond the stars — because I bore you into the 
 world. 'Twas their will that I should bear the Lord 
 God's standard over all the land. But I went mycJWn 
 way. That is why I have had to sufifer so much and sO 
 long. 
 
 BlOKN. 
 
 [Comes from the room on the left.] My lady, I have to 
 tell you — Christ save me — what is this .-" 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Has climbed up into the high-seat by the right-hand 
 wall.] Hush! Hush! I am the King's mother. My 
 son has been chosen king. The struggle was hard ere it 
 came to this — for 'twas with the Almighty One himself I 
 had to strive. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Comes in breathless from the right.] He is saved! 
 I have Jens Bielke's promise. Lady Inger, — know 
 that 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Peace, I say! look how the people swarm. 
 
 [A funeral hymn is heard from the room within. 
 
 There comes the coronation train. What a throng! 
 All men bow themselves before the King's mother. Ay, 
 ay; has she not fought for her son — even till her hands 
 grew red withal.'' — Where are my daughters? I see 
 them not. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 God's blood ! — what has befallen here ? 
 
ACTV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 185 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 My daughters — my fair daughters! I have none any 
 more. I had one left, and her I lost even as she was 
 mounting her bridal bed. [Whispers.] In it lay Lucia 
 dead. There was no room for two. 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 Ah — it has come to this! The Lord's vengeance is 
 upon me. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 Can you see him ? Look, look ! 'Tis the King. It is 
 Inger Gyldenlove's son! I know him by the crown and 
 by Sten Sture's ring that he wears round his neck. Hark, 
 what a joyful sound ! He is coming! Soon will he be in 
 my arms! Ha-ha! — who conquers, God or I? 
 
 [The Men- AT- Arms come out vrith the coffin. 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Clutches at her head and shrieks.] The corpse! 
 IWhispers.] Pah! 'Tis a hideous dream. 
 
 [Sinks hack into the high-seat. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 [Who has come in from the right, stops and cries in 
 astonishment.] Dead! Then after all 
 
 One of the Men-at-Abms. 
 'Twas he himself that 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 [With a look at Nils Lykke.] He himself ? 
 
186 LADY INGER OP OSTRAT [act v 
 
 Nils Ltkke. 
 Hush! 
 
 Lady Ingeb. 
 
 [Faintly, coming to herself i\ Ay, right; — now I re- 
 member all. 
 
 Jens Bielee. 
 
 [To the Men-at-Arms.] Set down the corpse. It is 
 not Count Sture. 
 
 One of the Men-at-Arms. 
 
 Your pardon, Captain;^ — this ring that he wore around 
 his neck-; 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 
 [Seizes his arm.] Be still! 
 
 Lady Inger. 
 
 [Starts up.] The ring ? The ring ! 
 
 [Rushes up and snatches the ring from him. 
 
 Sten Sture's ring ! [With a shriek.] Oh God, oh God 
 
 — my son! [Throws herself down on the coffin. 
 
 The Men-at-Arms. 
 Her son ? 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 [At the same time.] Inger Gyldenlove's son ? 
 
 Nils Lykke. 
 So is it. 
 
 Jens Bielke. 
 
 But why did you not tell me ? 
 
ACTV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 187 
 
 BiOrn. 
 
 [Trying to raise her up.] Help! help! My lady — 
 what ails you? what lack you? 
 
 Lady Ingeb.' 
 
 [In a faint voice, half raising herself.] What lack I? 
 
 One coffin more. A grave beside my child 
 
 [Sinks again, senseless, on the coffin. Nils Lykke 
 goes hastily out to the right. General consterna- 
 , tion among the rest. 
 
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 
 
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 
 INTRODUCTION * 
 
 Exactly a year after the production of Lady Inger of 
 Ostrat — ^that is to say on the "Foundation Day" of the 
 Bergen Theatre, January 2, 1856 — The Feast at Solhoug 
 was produced. The poet himself has written its history 
 in full in the Preface to the second edition (see p. 196). 
 The only comment that need be made upon his rejoinder 
 to his critics has been made, with perfect fairness as it 
 seems to me, by George Brandes in the following pas- 
 sage:* "No one who is unacquainted with the Scandina- 
 vian languages can fully understand the charm that the 
 style and melody of the old ballads exercise upon the 
 Scandinavian mind. The beautiful ballads and songs of 
 Des Knaben Wunderhorn have perhaps had a similar 
 power over German minds; but, as far as I am aware, no 
 German poet has ever succeeded in inventing a metre 
 suitable for dramatic purposes, which yet retained the 
 mediaeval ballad's sonorous swing and rich aroma. The 
 explanation of the powerful impression produced in its 
 day by Henrik Hertz's Svend Dyring's House is to be 
 found in the fact that in it, for the first time, the problem 
 was solved of how to fashion a metre akin to that of the 
 
 • Ibsen and Bjornson. London, Heinemann, 1899, p. 88. 
 * Copyright, 1908, by Charles Scribner's Sons. 
 191 ' 
 
192 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 
 
 heroic ballads, a metre possessing as great mobility as the , 
 verse of the Niehelungertlied, along with a dramatic value 
 not inferior to that of the iambic pentameter. Henrik 
 Ibsen, it is true, has justly pointed out that, as regards 
 the mutual relations of the principal characters, Svend 
 Dyring's House owes more to Kleist's Kdthchen von Heil- 
 bronn than The Feast at Solhoug owes to Svend Dyring's 
 House. But the fact remains that the versified parts 
 of the dialogue of both The Feast at Solhoug and Olaf 
 Liliekrans are written in that imitation of the tone and 
 style of the heroic ballad, of which Hertz was the hap- 
 pily-inspired originator. There seems to me to be no 
 depreciation whatever of Ibsen in the assertion of Hertz's 
 right to rank as his model. Even the greatest must have 
 learnt from some one." 
 
 The question is, to put it in a nutshell: Supposing 
 Hertz had never adapted the ballad measures to dramatic 
 purposes, would Ibsen have written The Feast at Solhoug, 
 at any rate in its present form ? I think we must answer: 
 Almost certainly, no. 
 
 But while the influence of Danish lyrical romanticism 
 is apparent in the style of the play, the structure, as it 
 seems to me, shows no less clearly that influence of the 
 French plot-manipulators which we found so unmistak- 
 ably' at work in Lady. Inger. Despite its lyrical dialogue. 
 The Feast at Solhoug has that crispness of dramatic 
 action which marks the French plays of the period. It 
 may indeed be called Scribe's Bataille de Dames writ 
 tragic. Here, as in the Bataille de Dames (one of the 
 earliest plays produced under Ibsen's supervision), we 
 have the rivalry of an older and a younger woman for the 
 
INTRODUCTION 193 
 
 love of a man who is proscribed on an unjust accusation, 
 and pursued by the emissaries of the royal power. One 
 might even, though this would be forcing the point, find 
 an analogy in the fact that the elder woman (in both 
 plays a strong and determined character) has in Scribe's 
 comedy a cowardly suitor, while in Ibsen's tragedy, or 
 melodrama, she has a cowardly husband. In every 
 other respect the plays are as dissimilar as possible; yet 
 it seems to me far from unlikely that an unconscious 
 reminiscence of the Bataille de Dames may have con- 
 tributed to the shaping of The Feast at Solhoug in Ibsen's 
 mind. But more significant than any resemblance of 
 theme is the similarity of Ibsen's whole method to that 
 of the French school — the way, for instance, in which 
 misunderstandings are kept up through a careful avoid- 
 ance of the use of proper names, and the way in which a 
 cup of poison, prepared for one person, comes into the 
 hands of another person, is, as a matter of fact, drunk by 
 no one, but occasions the acutest agony to the would-be 
 poisoner. All this ingenious dovetailing of incidents and 
 working-up of misunderstandings Ibsen unquestionably 
 learned from the French. The French language, indeed, 
 is the only one which has a word — quiproquo — to indi- 
 cate the class of misunderstanding which, from Lady 
 Inger down to The League of Youth, Ibsen employed 
 without scruple. 
 
 Ibsen's first visit to the home of his future wife took 
 place five days after the production ^of The Feast at Sol- 
 houg. It seems doubtful whether this was actually his 
 first meeting with her;' but at any rate we can scarcely 
 ' See note, p. 12. 
 
194 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 
 
 suppose that he knew her during the previous summer, 
 when he was writing his play. It is a curious coincidence, 
 then, that he should have found in Susanna Thoresen 
 and her sister Marie very much the same contrast of 
 characters which had occupied him in his first dramatic 
 effort, Catilina, and which had formed the main subject 
 of the play he had just produced. It is less wonderful 
 that the same contrast should so often recur in his later 
 works, even down to John Gabriel Borkman. Ibsen was 
 greatly attached to his gentle and retiring sister-in-law, 
 who died unmarried in 1874. 
 
 The Feast at Solhoug has been translated by Miss 
 Morison and myself, only because no one else could be 
 found to undertake the task. We have done our best; 
 but neither of us lays claim to any great metrical skill, 
 and the light movement of Ibsen's verse is often, if not 
 always, rendered in a sadly halting fashion. It is, how- 
 ever, impossible to exaggerate the irregularity of the 
 verse in the original, or its defiance of strict metrical law. 
 The normal line is one of four accents; but when this is 
 said, it is almost impossible to arrive at any further gen- 
 eralisation. There is a certain lilting melody in many 
 passages, and the whole play has not unfairly been said to 
 possess the charm of a northern summer night, in which 
 the glimmer of twilight gives place only to the gleam of 
 mornii|ig. But in the main (though much better than its 
 successor, Olaf lAliehrans) it is the weakest thing that 
 Ibsen admitted into the canon of his works. He wrote 
 of it in 1870 as "a study which I now disown"; and had 
 he continued in that frame of mind, the world would 
 
INTRODUCTION 195 
 
 scarcely have quarrelled with his judgment. At worst, 
 then, my collaborator and I cannot be accused of marring 
 a masterpiece; but for which assurance we should prob- 
 ably have shrunk from the attempt. 
 
 W. A. 
 
THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE SECOND 
 EDITION 
 
 ' I WEOTE The Feast at Solhoug in Bergen in the sum- 
 mer of 1855 — that is to say, about twenty-eight years 
 ago. 
 
 The play was acted for the first time on January 2, 
 1856, also at Bergen, as a gala performance on the anni- 
 versary of the foundation of the Norwegian Stage, 
 
 As I was then stage-manager of the Bergen Theatre, 
 it was I myself who conducted the rehearsals of my play. 
 It received an excellent, a remarkably sympathetic in- 
 terpretation. Acted with pleasure and enthusiasm, it 
 was received in the same spirit. The "Bergen emo- 
 tionalism," which is said to have decided the result of 
 the latest elections in those parts, ran high that evening 
 in the crowded theatre. The performance ended with 
 repeated calls for the author and for the actors. Later 
 in the evening I was serenaded by the orchestra, ac- 
 companied by a great part of the audience. I almost 
 think that I went so far as to make some kind of speech 
 from my window, certain I am that I felt extremely 
 happy. 
 
 A couple of mouths later, The Feast at Solhoug was 
 played in Christiania. There also it was received by the 
 public with much approbation, and the day after the first 
 performance Bjornson wrote a friendly, youthfully ardent 
 
 196 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION 197 
 
 article on it in the Morgenblad. It was- not a notice or 
 criticism proper, but rather a free, fanciful improvisa- 
 tion on the play and the performance. 
 
 On this, however, followed the real criticism, written 
 by the real critics. 
 
 How did a man in the Christiania of those days — by 
 which I mean the years between 1850 and 1860, or there- 
 abouts — become a real literary, and in particular dra- 
 matic, critic ? 
 
 As a rule, the process was as follows: After some pre- 
 paratory exercises in the columns of the Samfundsblad, 
 and after having frequently listened to the discussions 
 which went on in Treschow's cafe or' at "Ingebret's" 
 after the play, the future critic betook himself to Johan 
 Dahl's bookshop and ordered from Copenhagen a copy 
 of J. L. Heiberg's Prose Works, among which was to be 
 found — so he had heard it said — an essay entitled On the 
 Vaudeville. This essay was in due course read, rumi- 
 nated on, and possibly to a certain extent understood. 
 From Heiberg's writings the young man, moreover, 
 learned of a controversy which that author had carried 
 on in his day with Professor Oehlenschlager and with the 
 Soro poet,- Hauch. And he was simultaneously made 
 aware that J. L. Baggesen (the author of Letters from the 
 Dead) had at a still earlier period made a similar attack 
 on the great author who wrote both Axel and Valborg and 
 Hakon Jarl. 
 
 A quantity of other information useful to a critic was 
 to be extracted from these writings. From them one 
 learned, for instance, that taste obliged a good critic to 
 be scandalised by a hiatus. Did the young critical Jero- 
 
198 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 
 
 nimuses of Christiania encounter such a monstrosity in 
 any new verse, t^ey were as certain as their prototype in 
 Holberg to shout their "Hoity-toity! the world will not 
 last till Easter!" 
 
 The origin of another peculiar characteristic of the 
 criticism then prevalent in the Norwegian capital was 
 long a puzzle to me. Every time a new author published 
 a book or had a little play acted, our critics were in the 
 habit of flying into an ungovernable passion and behav- 
 ing as if the publication of the book or the performance 
 of the play were a mortal insult to themselves and the 
 newspapers in which they wrote. As already remarked, 
 I puzzled long over this peculiarity. At last I got to 
 the bottom of the matter. Whilst reading the Danish 
 Monthly Journal of. Literature I was struck by the fact 
 that old State-Councillor Molbech was invariably seized 
 with a fit of rage when a young author published a book 
 or had a play acted in Copenhagen. 
 
 Thus, or in a manner closely resembling this, had the 
 tribunal qualified itself, which now, in the daily press, 
 summoned The Feast at Solhoug to the bar of criticism in 
 Christiania. It was principally composed of young men 
 who, as regards criticism, lived upon loans from various 
 quarters. Their critical thoughts had long ago been 
 thought and expressed by others; their opinions had 
 long ere now been formulated elsewhere. Their aesthetic 
 principles were borrowed; their critical method was bor- 
 rowed; the polemical tactics they employed were bor- 
 rowed in every particular, great and small. Their very 
 frame of mind was borrowed. Borrowing, borrowing, 
 here, there, and everywhere! The single original thing 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION 199 
 
 about them was that they invariably made a wrong and 
 unseasonable application of their borrowings. 
 
 It can surprise no one that this body, the members 
 of which, as critics, supported themselves by borrowing, 
 should have presupposed similar action on my part, as 
 author. Two, possibly more than two, of the news- 
 papers promptly discovered that I had borrowed this, 
 that, and the other thing from Henrik Hertz's play, Svend 
 Dyring's House. 
 
 This is a baseless and indefensible critical assertion. 
 It is evidently to be ascribed to the fact that the metre 
 of the ancient ballads is employed in both plays. But 
 my tone is quite different from Hertz's; the language 
 of my play has a different ring; a light summer breeze 
 plays over the rhythm of my verse; over that of Hertz's 
 brood the storms of autumn. 
 
 Nor, as regards the characters, the action, and the 
 contents of the plays generally, is there any other or any 
 greater resemblance between them than that which is a 
 natural consequence of the derivation of the subjects of 
 both from the narrow circle of ideas in which the ancient 
 ballads move. 
 
 It might be maintained with quite as much, or even 
 more, reason that Hertz in his Svend Dyring's House had 
 borrowed, and that to no inconsiderable extent, from 
 Heinrich von Kleist's Kdthchen von Heilbronn, a play 
 written at the beginning of this century. Kathchen's re- 
 lation to Count Wetterstrahl is in all essentials the same 
 as Ragnhild's to the knight, Stig Hvide. Like Ragn- 
 hild, Kathchen is compelled by a mysterious, inexplica- 
 ble power to follow the man she loves wherever he goes. 
 
200 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 
 
 lo steal secretly after him, to lay herself down to sleep 
 near him, to come back to him, as by some innate com- 
 pulsion, however often she may be driven away. And 
 other instances of supernatural interference are to be 
 met with both in Kleist's and in Hertz's play. 
 
 But does any one doubt that it would be possible, with a 
 little good- or a little ill-will, to discover among still older 
 dramatic literature a play from which it could be main- 
 tained that Kleist had borrowed here and there in his 
 Kdthchen vort Heilbronn ? I, for my part, do not doubt 
 it. But such suggestions of indebtedness are futile. 
 What makes a work of art the spiritual, property of its 
 creator is the fact that he has imprinted on it the stamp 
 of his own personality. Therefore I hold that, in spite 
 of the above-mentioned points of resemblance, Svend 
 Dyring's House is as incontestably and entirely an orig- 
 inal work by Henrik Hertz as Kathchen von Heilbronn 
 is an original work by Heinrich von Kleist. 
 
 I advance the same claim on my own behalf as re- 
 gards The Feast «i Solhoug, and I trust that, for the 
 future, each of the three namesakes^ will be permitted 
 to keep, in its entirety, what rightfully belongs to him. 
 
 In writing of The Feast at Solhoug in connection with 
 Svend Dyring's House, George Brandes expresses the 
 opinion, not that the former play is founded upon any 
 idea borrowed from the latter, but that it has been writ- 
 ten under an influence exercised by the older author 
 upon the younger. Brandes invariably criticises my 
 work in such a friendly spirit that I have all reason to 
 be obliged to him for this suggestion, as for so much else. 
 ' Heinrich von Kleist, Henrik Hertz, Henrik Ibsen. 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION 201 
 
 Nevertheless I must maintain that he, too, is in this 
 instance mistaken. I have never specially admired Hen- 
 rik Hertz as a dramatist. Hence it is impossible for me 
 to believe that he should, unknown to myself, have been 
 able to exercise any influence on my dramatic production. 
 
 As regards this point, and the matter in general, I 
 might confine myself to referring those interested to the 
 writings of Dr. Valfrid Vasenius, lecturer on ^Esthetics at 
 the University of Helsingfors. In the thesis which gained 
 him his degree of Doctor of Philosophy, Henrik Ibsen's 
 Dramatic Poetry in its First Stage (1879), and also in 
 Henrik Ibsen: The Portrait of a Skald (Jos. Seligman & 
 Co., Stockholm, 1882), Vasenius states and supports his 
 views on the subject of the play at present in question, 
 supplementing them in the latter work by what I told 
 him, very briefly, when we were together at Munich three 
 years ago. • 
 
 But, to prevent all misconception, I will now myself 
 give a short account of the origin of The Feast at Solhoug. 
 
 I began this Preface with the statement that The Feast 
 at Solhoug was written in the summer of 1855. 
 
 In 1854 I had written Lady Inger of Ostrat. This was 
 a task which had obliged me to devote much attention to 
 the literature and history of Norway during the Middle 
 Ages, especially the latter part of that period. I did my 
 utmost to familiarise myself with the manners and cus- 
 toms, with the emotions, thoughts, and language, of the 
 men of those days. 
 
 The period, however, is not one over which the stu- 
 dent is tempted to linger, nor does it present much mate- 
 rial suitable for dramatic treatment. 
 
202 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 
 
 Consequently I soon deserted it for the Saga period. 
 But the Sagas of the Kings, and in general the more 
 strictly historical traditions of that far-off age, did not 
 attract me greatly; at that time I was unable to put the 
 quarrels between kings and chieftains, parties and clans, 
 to any dramatic purpose. This was to happen later. 
 
 In the Icelandic "family" Sagas, on the other hand, 
 I found in abundance what I required in the shape of 
 human garb for the moods, conceptions, and thoughts 
 which at that time occupied me, or were, at least, more 
 or less distinctly present in my mind. With these Old- 
 Norse contributions to the personal history of our Saga 
 period I had had no previous acquaintance; I had hardly 
 so much as heard them named. But now N. M. Peter- 
 sen's excellent translation — excellent, at least, as far as 
 the style is concerned^ — fell into my hands. In the pages 
 of these family chronicles, with their variety of scenes 
 and of relations between man and man, between woman 
 and woman, in short, between human being and human 
 bein^, there met me a personal, eventful, really living life; 
 and as the result of my intercourse with all these distinctly 
 individual men and women, there presented themselves 
 to my mind's eye the first rough, indistinct outlines of 
 The Vikings at Helgeland. 
 
 How far the details of that drama then took shape, I 
 am no longer able to say. But I remember perfectly 
 that the two figures of which I first caught sight were 
 the two women who in course of time became Hiordis 
 and Dagny. There was to be a great banquet in the 
 play, with passion-rousing, fateful quarrels during its 
 course. Of other characters and passions, and situations 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION 203 
 
 produced by these, I meant to include whatever seemed 
 to me most typical of the life which the Sagas reveal. 
 In short, it was my intention to reproduce dramatically 
 exactly what the Saga of the Volsungs gives in epic 
 form. 
 
 I made no complete, connected plan at that time; but 
 it was evident to me that such a drama was to be my first 
 undertaking. 
 
 Various obstacles intervened. Most of them were of 
 a personal nature, and these were probably the most 
 decisive; but it undoubtedly had its significance that I 
 happened just at this time to make a careful study of 
 Landstad's collection of Norwegian ballads, published 
 two years previously. My mood of the moment was 
 more in harmony with the literary romanticism of the 
 Middle Ages than with the deeds of the Sagas, with po- 
 etical than with prose composition, with the word-mel- 
 ody of the ballad than with the characterisation of the 
 Saga. 
 
 Thus it happened that the fermenting, formless design 
 for the tragedy. The Vikings at Helgeland, transformed 
 itself temporarily into the lyric drama, The Feast at Sol- 
 houg. 
 
 The two female characters, the foster-sisters Hiordis 
 and Dagny, of the projected tragedy, became the sisters 
 Margit and Signe of the completed lyric drama. The 
 derivation of the latter pair from the two women of the 
 Saga at once becomes apparent when attention is drawn 
 to it. The relationship is unmistakable. The tragic 
 hero, so far only vaguely outlined, Sigurd, the far-travelled 
 Viking, the welcome guest at the courts of kings, became 
 
204 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 
 
 the knight and minstrel, Gudmund Alfson, who has 
 likewise been long absent in foreign lands, and has lived 
 in the king's household. His attitude towards the two 
 sisters was changed, to bring it into accordance with the 
 change in time and circumstances; but the position of 
 both sisters to him remained practically the same as that 
 in the projected and afterwards completed tragedy. The 
 fateful banquet, the presentation of which had seemed 
 to me of the first importance in my original plan, became 
 in the drama the scene upon which its personages made 
 their appearance; it became the background against 
 which the action stood out, and communicated to the 
 picture as a whole the general tone at which I aimed. 
 The ending of the play was, undoubtedly, softened and 
 subdued into harmony with its character as drama, not 
 tragedy; but orthodox festheticians may still, perhaps, 
 find it disputable whether, in this ending, a touch of 
 pure tragedy has not been left behind, to testify to the 
 origin of the drama. 
 
 Upon this subject, however, I shall not enter further 
 at present. My object has simply been to maintain and 
 prove that the play under consideration, like all my other 
 dramatic works, is an inevitable outcome of the tenor of 
 my life at a certain period. It had its origin within, and 
 was not the result of any outward impression or influence 
 
 This, and no other, is the true account of the genesis 
 of The Feast at Solhoug. 
 
 Henrik Ibsen. 
 
 Rome, April, 1883. 
 
THE FEAST AT SOI.HOUG 
 
 (1856) 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 Bengt Gauteson, Master of Solhovg 
 
 Mabgit, his wife. 
 
 SiGNE, her sister. 
 
 GuDMtTND Alfson, thdr Idnsman. 
 
 Kntjt Gesling, the King's sheriff. 
 
 Erik of Hegge, his friends 
 
 a house-cahl. 
 
 Anotheh House-cabl. 
 
 The King's Envoy. 
 
 An Old Man. 
 
 A Maiden. 
 
 GuF^TS, BOTH Men and Ladies. 
 
 Men of Knut Gesling's Teain. 
 
 Sebving-Men and Maidens at Solhoug. 
 
 The action passes at Solhoug in the Fourteenth Century. 
 
 [Pbonunciation of Names: GMAvoMnA^Goodmoand. The 
 g in "Margit" and in "Gesling" is hard, as in "go," or, in 
 "Gesling," it may be pronounced as y — "Yesling." The first 
 in "Solhoug" ought to have the sound of a very long "oo."] 
 
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 
 
 PLAY IN THREE ACTS 
 
 ACT FIRST 
 
 A stately room, with doors in the hack and to both sides. 
 In front, on the right, a bay window with small round 
 panes, set in lead, and near the window a table, on 
 which is a quantity of feminine ornaments. Along 
 the left wall, a longer table with silver goblets, beakers 
 and drinking-horns. The door in the hack leads out 
 to a passage-way,^ through which can he seen a spa- 
 cious fiord-landscape. 
 
 Bengt Gauteson, Makgit, Knut Gesling and Ehik 
 OF Hegge are seated around the table on the left. In 
 the background are Kntjt's followers, some seated, 
 some standing; one or two fictions of ale are handed 
 round among them. Far off are heard church bells. 
 
 ringing to Mass. 
 
 Erik. 
 
 [Rising at the tablel\ In one word, now, what answer 
 have you to make to my wooing on Knut Gesling's 
 behalf? 
 
 ' This no doubt means a sort of arcaded veranda running along 
 the outer wall of the house. 
 
 207 
 
208 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Glancing uneasily towards his wife.] Well, I — to me 
 it seems — [As she remains silent.] H'm, Margit, let u6 
 first hear your thought in the matter. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Rising.] Sir Knut Gesling, I have long known all 
 that Erik of Hegge has told of you. I know full well 
 that you come of a lordly house; you are rich in gold 
 and gear, and you stand in high favour with our royal 
 master. 
 
 Bengt. 
 [To Knut.] In high favour^so say I too. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 And doubtless my sister could choose her no doughtier 
 mate — 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 None doughtier; that is what I say too. 
 
 I Mabgit. 
 
 — if so be that you can win her to think kindly of you. 
 
 Bengt. 
 [Anxiously, and half aside.] Nay — nay, my dear wife— 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [Springing up.] Stands it so, Dame Margit! You 
 think that your sister — 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 209 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Seeking to calm him.] Nay, nay, Knut Gesling! 
 Have patience, now. You must understand us aright. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 There is naught in my words to wound you. My sister 
 knows you only by the songs that are made about you — 
 and these songs sound but ill in gentle ears. 
 
 No peaceful home is your father's house. 
 
 ^ith your lawless, reckless crew. 
 Day out, day in, must you hold carouse — 
 
 God help her who mates with you. 
 God help the maiden you lure or buy 
 
 With gold and with forests green — 
 Soon will her sore heatt long to lie 
 
 Still in the grave, I ween. 
 
 Eeik. 
 
 Aye, aye — true enough — Knut Gesling lives not over- 
 peaceably. But there will soon come a change in that, 
 when he gets him a wife in his hall. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 And this I would have you mark. Dame Margit: it 
 may be a week since, I was at a feast at Hegge, at Erik's 
 bidding, whom here you see. The ale was strong; and 
 as the evening wore on I vowed a vow that Signe, your 
 fair sister, should be my wife, and that before the year 
 was out. Never shall it be said of Knut Gesling that he 
 brake any vow^ You can see, then, that you must e'en 
 choose me for your sister's husband — be it with your 
 will or against it. 
 
210 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 Ere that may be, I must tell you plain. 
 
 You must rid yourself of your ravening train. 
 
 You must scour no longer with yell and shout 
 
 O'er the country-side in a galloping rout; 
 
 You must still the shudder that spreads around 
 
 When Knut Gesling is to a bride-ale bound. 
 
 Courteous must your mien be when a-f easting you ride; 
 
 Let your battle-axe hang at home at the chimney-side — 
 
 It ever sits loose in your hand, well you know. 
 
 When the mead has gone round and your brain is aglow. 
 
 From no man his rightful gear shall you wrest. 
 
 You shall harm no harmless maiden; 
 
 You shall send to no man the shameless hest 
 
 That when his path crosses yours, he were best 
 
 Come with his grave-clothes laden. 
 
 And if you will so bear you till the year be past. 
 
 You may win my sister for your bride at last. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [With suppressed rage.] You know how to order your 
 words cunningly. Dame Margit. Truly, you should have 
 been a priest, and not your husband's wife. 
 
 Bengt. 
 Oh, for that matter, I too could — 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [Paying no heed to him.] But I would have you take 
 note that had a sword-bearing man spoken to me in such 
 wise — 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 211 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Nay, but listen, Knut Gesling— you must understand- 
 us! 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [As before.] Well, briefly, he should have learnt that 
 the axe sits loose in my hand, as you said but now. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Softly.] There we have it! Margit, Margit, this will 
 never end well. 
 
 MArgit. 
 
 [To Knut.] You asked for a forthright answer, and 
 that I have given you. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Well, well; I will not reckon too closely with you, Dame 
 Margit. You have more wit than all the rest of us to- 
 gether. Here is my hand; — it may be there was some- 
 what of reason in the keen-edged words you spoke to 
 me. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 This I like well; now are you already on the right 
 way to amendment. Yet one word more — to-day we 
 hold a feast at Solhoug. 
 
 Knut. 
 A feast ? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Yes, Knut Gesling: you must know that it is our 
 wedding-day; this day three years ago made me Dame 
 Margit's husbaod- 
 
?12 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [acti 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 - [Impatiently, interrupting.] As I said, we hold a feast 
 to-day. When Mass is over, and your other business 
 done, I would have you ride hither again, and join in the 
 banquet. Then you can learn to know my sister. 
 
 Kndt. 
 
 So be it, Dame Margit; I thank you. Yet 'twas not to 
 go to Mass that I rode hither this morning. Your kins- 
 man, Gudmund Alfson, was the cause of my coming. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Starts.] He! My kinsman? Where would you seek 
 him? 
 
 Knut. 
 
 His homestead lies behind the headland, on the, other 
 side of the fiord. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 But he himself is far away. 
 
 Erik. 
 Be not so sure; he may be nearer than you think. 
 
 Knut. 
 [Whispers.] Hold your peace! 
 
 4 
 
 Margit. 
 Nearer? What mean you? 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 213 
 
 ' Knut. 
 
 Have you not heard, then, that Gudmund Alfson has 
 come back to Norway? He came with the Chancellor 
 Audun of Hegranes, who was sent to France to bring 
 home our new Queen. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 True enough; but in these very days the King holds 
 his wedding-feast in full state at Bergen, and there is 
 Gudmund Alfson a guest. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 And there could we too have been guests had my wife 
 so willed it. 
 
 Erik. 
 
 [Aside to Knut.] Then Dame Margit knows not 
 that— ? • 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [Aside.] So it would seem; but keep your counsel. 
 [Aloud.] Well, well, Dame Margit, I must go my way 
 none the less, and see what may betide. At nightfall I 
 will be here again. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 And then you must show whether you have power to 
 bridle your unruly spirit. 
 
 Bengt. * 
 
 Aye, mark you that. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 You must lay no hand on your axe— ^hear you, Knut 
 Gesling ? 
 
214 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG Iact i 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Neither on your axe, nor on your knife, nor on any 
 other weapon whatsoever. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 For then can you never hope to be one of our kindred! 
 
 Bengt. 
 Nay, that is our firm resolve. 
 
 Knut. 
 [To Mahgit.] Have no fear. 
 
 Bengt. 
 And what we have firmly resolved stands fast. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 That I like well, Sir Bengt Gauteson. I, too, say the 
 same; and I have pledged myself at the feast-board to 
 wed your kinswoman. You may be sure that my pledge, 
 too, will stand fast. — God's peace till to-night ! 
 
 [He and Ehik, with their men, go ovt at the back. 
 [Bengt accompanies them to the door. The sound of 
 the hells has in the meantime ceased. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Returning.] Methought he seemed to threaten us as 
 he departed. 
 
 Margit. 
 [Absently.] Aye, so it seemed. 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 215 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Knut Gesling is an ill man to fall out with. And, 
 when I bethink me, we gave him overmany hard words. 
 But come, let us not brood over that. To-day we must 
 be merry, Margit! — as I trow we have both good reason 
 to be. 
 
 Maegit. 
 
 [With a weary sfnile.] Aye, surely, surely. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 'Tis true I was no mere stripling when I courted you. 
 But well I wot I was the richest man for many and many 
 a mile. You were a fair maiden, and nobly born; but 
 your dowry would have tempted no wooer. 
 
 Margit. 
 [To herself.] Yet was I then so rich. 
 
 Bengt. 
 What said you, my wife? 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 Oh, nothing, nothing. [Crosses to the right.] I will 
 deck me with pearls and rings. Is not to-night a time 
 of rejoicing for me ? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 I am fain to hear you say it. Let me see that you 
 deck you in your best attire, that our guests may say: 
 Happy she who mated with Bengt Gauteson. — But now 
 must I to the larder; there are many things to-day that 
 must not be overlooked. [He goes out to the left. 
 
216 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i 
 
 Margit. 
 Sinks down on a chair by the table on the right. 
 
 'Twas well he departed. While here he remains 
 Meseems the blood freezes within my veins; 
 Meseems that a crushing might and cold 
 My heart in its clutches doth still enfold. 
 
 [With tears she cannot repress. 
 H e is my husband ! I am h i s wife ! 
 How long, how long lasts a woman's life? 
 Sixty years, mayhap — God pity me 
 Who am not yet full twenty-three! 
 
 [More calmly, after a short silence. 
 Hard, so long in a gilded cage to pine; 
 Hard a hopeless prisoner's lot — and mine. 
 
 [Absently fingering the ornaments on the table, and 
 beginning to put them on. 
 With rings, and with jewels, and all of my best 
 By his order miyself I am decking — • 
 But oh, if to-day were my burial-feast, 
 'Twere little that I'd be recking. [Breaking off. 
 
 But if thus I bfood I must needs despair; 
 I know a song that can lighten care. [She sings. 
 
 The Hill-King to the sea did ride; 
 
 — Oh, sad are my ddys and dreary — 
 To woo a maiden to be his bride. 
 
 — I am waiting for. thee, I am weary. — 
 
 The Hill-King rode to Sir Hakon's hold; 
 
 — Oh, sad are my days and dreary — 
 Little Kirsten sat combing her locks of gold. 
 
 — I am waiting for thee, I am weary. — 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 217 
 
 The Hill-King wedded the maiden fair; 
 
 — Oh, sad are my days and dreary — 
 A silvern girdle she ever must wear. 
 
 — I am waiting for thee, I am weary. — 
 
 The Hill-King wedded the lily-wand, 
 
 — Oh, sad are my days and dreary — 
 With fifteen gold rings on either hand. 
 
 — I am waiting for thee, I am weary. — 
 
 Three summers passed, and there passed full five; 
 
 — Oh, sad are my days and dreary — 
 In the hill little Kirsten was buried alive. 
 
 — I am waitiilg for thee, I am weary. — 
 
 Five summers passed, and there passed full nine; 
 
 — Oh, sad are my days and dreary — 
 Little Kirsten ne'er saw the glad sunshine. 
 
 — I am waiting for thee, I am weary. — 
 
 In the dale there are flowers and the birds' blithe song; 
 
 — Oh, sad are my days and dreary — 
 In the hill there is gold and the night is long 
 
 — I am waiting for thee, I am weary. — 
 
 [She rises and crosses the room. 
 
 How oft in the gloaming would Gudmund sing 
 
 This song in my father's hall. 
 
 There was somewhat in it — some strange, sad thing 
 
 That took my heart in thrall; 
 
 Though I scarce understood, I could ne'er forget — 
 
 i^nd the words and the thoughts they haunt me yet. 
 
 [Stops horror-struck. 
 
218 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i 
 
 Rings of red gold! And a belt beside — ! 
 'Twas with gold the Hill-King wedded his bride! 
 
 [In despair; sinks down on a bench beside the table 
 on the left. 
 Woe! Woe! I myself am the Hill- King's wife! 
 And there cometh none to free me from the prison of my 
 life. 
 [SiGNE, radiant with gladness, comes running in from 
 the back. 
 
 -SiGNE. 
 
 [C ailing. "l Margit, Margit, — he is coming! 
 
 Mahgit. 
 [Starting wp.] Coming ? Who is coming ? 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Gudmund, our kinsman! 
 
 Mahgit. 
 Gudm^nd Alfson! Here! How can you think — ? 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Oh, I am sure of it. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Crosses to the right.] Gudmund Alfson is at the wed- 
 ding-feast in the King's hall; you know that as well as I. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Maybe; but none the less I am sure it was he. 
 
 Margit. 
 Have you seen him ? 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 219 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Oh, no, no; but I must tell you — 
 
 Margit. , 
 Yes, haste you — tell on! 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 'Twas early morn, and the church bells rang. 
 
 To Mass I was fain to ride; 
 
 The birds in the willows twittered and sang, 
 
 In the birch-groves far and wide. 
 
 All earth was glad in the clear, sweet day; 
 
 And from church it had well-nigh stayed me; . 
 
 For still, as I rode down the shady way. 
 
 Each rosebud beguiled and delayed me. 
 
 Silently into the church I stole; ^ 
 
 The priest at the altar was bending; 
 
 He chanted and read, and with awe in their soul. 
 
 The folk to God's word were attending. 
 
 Then a voice rang out o'er the fiord so blue; 
 
 And the carven angels, the whole church through. 
 
 Turned round, methought, to listen thereto. 
 
 Margit. 
 O Signe, say on! Tell me all, tell me all! 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 'Twas as though a strange, irresistible call 
 Summoned me forth from the worshipping flock, 
 Over hill and dale, over mead and rock. 
 'Mid the silver birches I listening trod. 
 
220 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i 
 
 Moving as though in a dream; 
 
 Behind me stood empty the house of God; 
 
 Priest and people were lured by the magic, 'twould 
 
 seem, , 
 Of the tones that still through the air did stream. 
 No sound they made; they were quiet as death; 
 To hearken the song-birds held their breath. 
 The lark dropped earthward, the cuckoo was still. 
 As the voice re-echoed from hill to hill. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 Go on. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 They crossed themselves, women and men; 
 
 [Pressing her hands to her hreakt 
 But strange thoughts arose within me then; 
 For the heavenly song familiar grew : 
 Gudmund oft sang it to me and you — 
 Ofttimes has Gudmund carolled it. 
 And all he e'er sang in my heart is writ. 
 
 Maegit. 
 And you think that it may be — ? 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 I know it is he! 
 I know it! I know it! You soon shall see! 
 
 , [Laughing. 
 
 From far-off lands, at the last, in the end, 
 Each song-bird homewards his flight doth bend! 
 I am so happy — though why I scarce know — ' 
 Margit, what say you ? I'll quickly go 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 221 
 
 And take down his harp, that has hung so long 
 
 In there on the wall that 'tis rusted quite; 
 
 Its golden strings I will polish bright, 
 
 And tune them to ring and to sing with his song. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Absently.] 
 Do as you will — 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Reproachfully.] 
 Nay, this is not right. 
 
 [Embracing her. 
 But when Gudmund comes will your heart grow light — 
 Light, as when I was a child, again. 
 
 Margit. 
 [To herself^ 
 So much has changed — ah, so much! — since then — 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Margit, you shall be happy and gay ! 
 
 Have you not serving-maids many, and thralls ? 
 
 Costly robes hang in rows on your chamber walls; 
 
 How rich you are, none can say. 
 
 By day you can ride in the forest deep. 
 
 Chasing the hart and the hind; 
 
 By night in a lordly bower you can sleep. 
 
 On pillows of silk reclined. 
 
 Margit. 
 [Looking towards the window.] 
 And he comes to Solhoug! He, as a guest! 
 
222 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [acti 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 What say you ? 
 
 Margit, 
 [Turning.] 
 
 Naught. — Deck you out in your best. 
 That fortune which seemeth to you so bright 
 May await yourself. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Margit, say what you mean! 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 [Stroking her hair.] 
 
 I mean — nay, no more! 'Twill shortly be seen — ; 
 I mean — should a wooer ride hither to-night — ? 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 A wooer ? For whom ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 For you. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 ■ [Laughing.] 
 
 For me ? 
 That he'd ta'en the wrong road full soon he would see. 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 What would you say if a valiant knight 
 Begged for your hand ? 
 
 SlQNE. 
 
 That my heart was too light 
 To think upon suitors or choose a mate. 
 
ACTi] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 223 
 
 Makgit. 
 But if he were mighty, and rich, and great ? 
 
 SiGNE, 
 
 Oh, were he a king, did his palace hold 
 
 Stores of rich garments and ruddy gold, 
 
 'Twould ne'er set my heart desiring. 
 
 With you I am rich enough here, meseems. 
 
 With summer and sun and the murmuring streams. 
 
 And the birds in the branches quiring. 
 
 Dear sister mine — here shall my dwelling be; 
 
 And to give any wooer my hand in fee. 
 
 For that I am too busy, and my heart too full of glee! 
 
 [SiGNE runs out to the left, singing. 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 [After a pause.] Gudmund Alfson coming hither! 
 Hither — to Solhoug ? No, no, it cannot be. — Signe 
 heard him singing, she said! When I have heard the 
 pine-trees moaning in the forest afar, when I have heard 
 the waterfall thunder and the birds pipe their lure in the 
 tree-tops, it has many a time seemed to me as though, 
 through it all, the sound of Gudmund's songs came 
 blended. And yet he was far from here. — Signe has 
 deceived herself. Gudmund cannot be coming. 
 
 [Bengt enters hastily from the back. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Entering, calls loudly.] An unlooked-for guest, my 
 wife! 
 
 Mabgit. 
 What guest ? 
 
%m THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [acti 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Your kinsman, Gudmund Alfson! [Calls through the 
 doorway on the right.] Let the best guest-room be pre- 
 pared — and that foffliwith! 
 
 Makgit. 
 Is he, then, already here ? 
 
 I Bengt. 
 
 [Looking out through the passage-way.] Nay, not yet; 
 but he cannot be far off. [Calls again to the right.] The 
 carved oak bed, with the dragon-heads! [Advances to 
 Mabgit.] His shield-bearer brings a message of greet- 
 ing from him; and he himself is close behind. 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 His shield-bearer! Comes he hither with a shield- 
 bearer ? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Aye, by my faith he does. He has a shield-bearer 
 and six armed men in his train. What would you? 
 Gudmund Alfson is a far other man than he was when 
 he set forth to seek his fortune. But I must ride forth 
 and receive him. [Calls out.] The gilded saddle on 
 my horse! And forget not the bridle with the serpents' 
 heads! [Looks out to the back.] Ha, there he is already 
 at the gate! Well, then, my staff — my silver- headed 
 staff! Such a lordly knight — Heaven save us! — we 
 must receive him with honour, with all seemly honour! 
 
 [Goes hastily out to the back. 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 225 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Brooding.] 
 
 Alone he departed, a penniless swain; 
 
 With esquires and henchmen now comes he again. 
 
 What would he ? Comes he, forsooth, to see 
 
 My bitter and gnawing misery ? 
 
 Would he try how long, in my lot accurst, 
 
 I can writhe and moan, ere my heart-strings burst — 
 
 Thinks he that — ? Ah, let him only try ! 
 
 Full little joy shall he reap thereby. 
 
 [She beckons through the doorway on the right. 
 Three handmaidens enter. 
 List, little >miaids, what I say to you: 
 Find me my silken mantle blue. 
 Go with me into my bower anon : 
 My richest of velvets and furs do on. 
 Two of you shall deck me in scarlet and vair. 
 The third shall wind pearl-string* into my hair. 
 All my jewels and gauds bear away with ye! 
 
 [The handmaids go out to the left, taking the orna- 
 ments with them. 
 Since Margit the Hill- King's bride must be. 
 Well! don we the queenly livery! 
 
 [She goes out to the left. 
 
 [Bengt ushers in Gudmund Alfson, through the 
 • pent-house passage at the back. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 And now once more — welcome under Solhoug's roof, 
 my wife's kinsman. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 I thank you. And how goes it with her ? She thrives 
 well in every way, I make no doubt? 
 
226 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Aye, you may be sure she does. There is nothing 
 she lacks. She has five handmaidens, no less, at her 
 beck and call; a courser stands ready saddled in the 
 stall when she lists to ride abroad. In one word, she 
 has all that a noble lady can desire to make her happy 
 in her lot. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 And Margit — is she then happy? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 God and all men would think that she must be; but, 
 strange to say — 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 What mean you ? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Well, believe- it or not as you list, but it seems to me 
 that Margit was merrier of heart in the days of her 
 poverty, than since she became the lady of Solhoug. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 [To himself.] I knew it; so it must be. 
 
 Bengt. 
 What say you, kinsman ? 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 I say that I wonder greatly at what you tell me of your 
 wife. 
 
ACTi] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 227 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Aye, you may be sure I wonder at it too. On the 
 faith and troth of an honest gentleman, 'tis beyond me 
 to guess what more she can desire. I am about her all 
 day long; and no one can say of me that I rule her 
 harshly. All the cares of household and husbandry I 
 have taken on myself; yet notwithstanding — Well, 
 well, you were ever a merry heart; I doubt not you will 
 bring sunshine with you. Hush! here comes Dame 
 Margit! Let her not see that I — 
 
 [Makgit enters from the left, richly dressed. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [Going to meet her.] Margit — my dear Margit! 
 
 Margit 
 
 [Stops, and looks at him without recognition.] Your 
 pardon. Sir Knight; but — .'' [As though she only now 
 recognised him.] Surely, if I mistake not, 'tis Gudmund 
 Alfson. [Holding out her hand to him. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 [Without taking it.] And you did not at once know 
 me again ? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Laughing.] Why, Mfirgit, of what are you thinking ? 
 I told you but a moment agone that your kinsman — 
 
 Margit, 
 
 [Crossing to the table on the right.] Twelve years is a 
 long time, Gudmund. The freshest plant may wither 
 ten times over in that space. 
 
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG fAcr i 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 'Tis seven years since last we met. 
 
 Margit. 
 Surely it must be more than that! 
 
 GtJDMUND. 
 
 [Looking at her.] I could almost think so. But 'tis 
 as I say. 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 How strange! I must have been but a child then; 
 and it seems to me a whole eternity since I was a child. 
 [ Throws herself down on a chair.] Well, sit you down, 
 my kinsman! Rest you, for to-night you shall dance, 
 and rejoice us with your singing. [With a forced smile.] 
 Doubtless you know we are merry here to-day — we are 
 holding a feast. 
 
 , GuDMUND. 
 
 'Twas told me as I entered your homestead. 
 
 Bengt. 
 Aye, 'tis three years to-day since I became — 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Interrupting.] My kinsman has already heard it. 
 [To GuDMUND.] Will you not lay aside your cloak.? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 I thank you, Dame Margit; but it seems to me cold 
 V here — colder than I had foreseen. 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 229 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 For my part, I am warm enough; but then I have a 
 hundred things to do and to take order for. [To Mar- 
 git.] Let not the time seem long to our guest while I 
 am absent. You can talk together of the old days. 
 
 [Going. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 [Hesitating.] Are you going ? Will you not rather — ? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Laughing, to Gudmund, as he comes forward again.] 
 See you well — Sir Bengt of Solhoug is the man to make 
 the women fain of him. How short soe'er the space, 
 my wife cannot abide to be without me. [To Mabgit, 
 caressing her.] Content you; I shall soon be with you 
 again. [ffe goes out to the back. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 [To herself.] Oh, torture, to have to endure it all. 
 
 [A short silence. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 How goes it, I pray, with your sister dear ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 Right well, I thank you. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 They i^aid she was here 
 With you. 
 
230 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [acti 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 She has been here ever since we — 
 
 [Breaks off. 
 Shd came, now three years since, to Solhoug with me. 
 
 [After a pause. 
 Ere long she'll be here, her friend to greet. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Well I mind me of Signe's nature sweet. 
 
 No guile she dreamed of, no evil knew. 
 
 When I call to remembrance her eyes so blue 
 
 I must think of the angels in heaven. 
 
 But of years there have passed no fewer than seven ; 
 
 In that time much may have altered. Oh, say 
 
 If she, too, has changed so while I've been away ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 She too ? Is it, pray, in the halls of kings 
 That you learn such courtly ways, Sir Knight ? 
 To remind me thus of the change time brings — 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 Nay, Margit, my meaning you read aright ! 
 
 You were kind to me, both, in those far-away years — 
 
 Your eyes, when we parted were wet with tears. 
 
 We swore like brother and sister still 
 
 To hold together in good hap or ill. 
 
 'Mid the other maids like a sun you shone. 
 
 Far, far and wide was your beauty known. 
 
 You are no less fair than you were, I wot; 
 
 But Solhoug's mistress, I see, has forgot 
 
 The penniless kinsman. So hard is your mind 
 
 That ever of old was gentle and kind. 
 
ACTi] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 231 
 
 Mabgit. 
 [Choking back her tears.] 
 Ave, of old — ! 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [Looks compassionately at' her, is silent for a little, 
 then says in a subdued voice. 
 
 Shall we do as your husband said ? 
 Pass the time with talk of the dear old days ? 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Vehimently.] 
 
 No, no, not of them! [More calmly. 
 
 Their memory's dead. 
 My mind unwillingly backward strays. 
 Tell rather of what your life has been. 
 Of what in the wide world you've done and seen. 
 Adventures you've lacked not, well I ween — 
 In all the warmth and the space out yonder. 
 That heart and mind should be light, what wonder? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 In the King's high hall I found not the joy 
 That I knew by my own poor hearth as a boy. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Without looking at him.] 
 
 While I, as at Solhoug each day flits past. 
 Thank Heaven that here has my lot been cast. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 'Tis well if for this you can thankful be— ^ 
 
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [aoti 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Vehemently:] 
 
 Why not ? For am I not honoured and free ? 
 Must not all folk here obey my hest ? 
 Rule I not all things as seemeth me best ? 
 Here I am first, with no second beside me; 
 And that, as you know, from of old satisfied me. 
 Did you think you would find me weary and sad ? 
 Nay, my mind is at peace and my heart is glad. 
 You might, then, have spared your journey here 
 To Solhoug; 'twill profit you little, I fear. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 What, mean you. Dame Margit ? 
 
 Margit. 
 [Rising.] 
 
 I understand all — 
 I know why you come to my lonely hall. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 And you welcome me not, though you know why I came ? 
 
 [Boiuing, and about to go. 
 God's peace and farewell, then, my noble dame! 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 To have stayed in the royal hall, indeed. 
 Sir Knight, had better become your fame. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 [Stops.] 
 In the royal hall ? Do you scoff at my need ? 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 233 
 
 Margit. 
 
 Your need ? You are ill to content, my friend; 
 Where, I would know, do you think to end ? 
 You can dress you in velvet and cramoisie. 
 You stand by the throne, and have lands in fee — 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Do you deem, then, that fortune is kind to me ? 
 You said but now that full well you knew 
 What brought me to Solhoug — 
 
 Margit. 
 
 I told you true! 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Then you know what of late has befallen me; — 
 You have heard the tale of my outlawry ? 
 
 Margitx 
 [ Terror-stnick.] 
 An outlaw! You, Gudmund! 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 I am indeed. 
 But I swear, by the Holy Christ I swear. 
 Had I known the thoughts of your heart, I ne'er 
 Had bent me to Solhoug in miy need. 
 I thought that you still were gentle-hearted. 
 As you ever were wont to be ere we parted : 
 But I truckle not to you; the wood is wide. 
 My hand and my bow shall fend for me there; 
 I will drink of the mountain brook, and hide 
 My head in the wild beast's lair. 
 
 [On the point of going. 
 
234 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [acti 
 
 Margit. 
 [Holding him back.] 
 
 Outlawed! Nay, stay! I swear to you 
 That naught of your outlawry I knew. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 It is as I tell you. My life's at stake; 
 
 And to live are all men fain. 
 
 Three nights like a dog 'neath the sky I've lain. 
 
 My couch on the hillside forced to make. 
 
 With for pillow the boulder grey. 
 
 Though too proud to knock at the door of the stranger. 
 
 And pray him for aid in the hour of danger. 
 
 Yet strong was my hope as I held on my way: 
 
 I thought: When to Solhoug you come at last 
 
 Then all your pains will be done and past. 
 
 You have sure friends there, whatever betide. — 
 
 But hope like a wayside flower shrivels up; 
 
 Though your husband met me with flagon and cup, 
 
 And his doors flung open wide. 
 
 Within, your dwelling seems chill and bare; 
 
 Dark is the hall; my friends are not there. 
 
 'Tis well; I will back to my hills from your halls. 
 
 Margit. 
 [Beseechingly.] 
 
 Oh, hear me! 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 My soul is' not base as a thrall's. 
 Now life to me seems a thing of naught; 
 Truly I hoM it scarce worth a thought. 
 
ACTi] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 235 
 
 You have killed all that I hold most dear; 
 Of my fairest hopes I follow the bier. 
 Farewell, then, Dame Margit! 
 
 . Mabgit. 
 
 Nay, Gudmund, hear! 
 By all that is holy — ! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Live on as before 
 Live on in honour and joyance — 
 Never shall Gudmund darken your door. 
 Never shall cause you 'noyance. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 Enough, enough. Your bitterness 
 
 You presently shall rue. 
 
 Had I known you outlawed, shel|erless, 
 
 Hunted the country through — 
 
 Trust me, the day that brought you here 
 
 Would have seemed the fairest .of many a year; 
 
 And a feast I had counted it indeed 
 
 When you turned to Solhoug for refuge in need ! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 What say you — .' How shall I read your mind ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 [Holding out her hand to him.l 
 Read this: that at Solhoug dwell kinsfolk kind. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 But you said of late — ? 
 
236 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [acti 
 
 Margit. 
 
 To that pay no heed. 
 Or hear me, and understand indeed. 
 For me is life but a long, black night, 
 Nor sun, nor star for me shines bright. 
 I have sold my youth and my liberty. 
 And none from my bargain can set me free. 
 My heart's content I have bartered for gold. 
 With gilded chains I have fettered myself; 
 Trust me, it is but comfort cold 
 To the sorrowful soul, the pride of pelf. 
 How blithe was my childhood — how free from carel 
 Our house was lowly and scant our store; 
 But treasures of hope in my breast I bore. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [Whose eyes have been fixed upon her.] 
 E'en then you were growing to beauty rare. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 Mayhap; but the praises showered on me 
 
 Caused the wreck of my happiness — that I now see. 
 
 To far-off lands away you sailed ; 
 
 But deep in my heart was graven each song 
 
 You had ever sung; and their glamour was strong; 
 
 With a mist of dreams my brow they veiled. 
 
 In them all the joys you had dwelt upon 
 
 That can find a home in the beating breast; 
 
 You had sung so oft of the lordly life 
 
 'Mid knights and ladies. And lo! anon 
 
 Came wooers a many from east and from west; 
 
 And so^I became Bengt Gauteson's wife. 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 237 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Oh, Margit! 
 
 Margit. 
 
 The days that passed were but few 
 Ere with tears my folly I 'gan to rue. 
 To think, my kinsman and friend, on thee 
 Was all the comfort left to me. 
 How empty now seemed Solhoug's hall. 
 How hateful and drear its great rooms all! 
 Hither came many a knight and dame. 
 Came many a skald to sing my fame. 
 But never a one who could fathom aright 
 My spirit and all its yearning — 
 I shivered, as though in the Hill- King's might; 
 Yet my head throbbed, my blood was burning. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 But your husband — ? 
 
 Margit. 
 
 He ne'^er to me was dear. 
 'Twas his gold was my undoing. 
 When he spoke to me, aye, or e'en drew near. 
 My spirit writhed with ruing. [Clasping her hands. 
 
 And thus have I lived for three long years — 
 A life of sorrow, of unstanched tears ! 
 Your coming was rumoured. You know full well 
 What pride deep down in my heart doth dwell. 
 I hid my anguish, I veiled my woe. 
 For jou were the last that the truth must know. 
 
 • 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 [Moved.] 
 'Twas therefore, then, that you turned away— 
 
238 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i 
 
 Mahgit. 
 [Not looking at Mm.] 
 I thought you came at my woe to jeer. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Margit, how could you think — ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 Nay, nay. 
 There was reason enough for such a fear. 
 But thanks be to Heaven, that fear is gone; 
 And now no longer I stand alone; 
 My spirit now is as light and free 
 As a child's at play 'neath the greenwood .tree. 
 
 [With a sudden start of fear. 
 Ah, where are my wits fled ! How could I forget — ? 
 Ye saints, I need sorely your succor yet! 
 An outlaw, you said — ? 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 [Smiling.] , 
 Nay, now I'm at home; 
 Hither the King's men scarce dare come. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 Your fall has been sudden. I pray you, tell 
 How you lost the King's favour. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 'Twas thus it befell. 
 You know how I journeyed to France of late. 
 When the Chancellor, Audun of Hegranes, 
 Fared thither from Bergen, in royal .state. 
 To lead home the King's bride, the fair Princess, 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 239 
 
 With her squires, and maidens, and ducats bright. 
 Sir Audun's a fair and a stately knight, 
 The Princess shone with a beauty rare — 
 Her eyes seemed full of a burning prayer. 
 They would oft talk alone and in whispers, the two — 
 Of what ? That nobody guessed or knew. 
 There came a night when I leant at ease 
 Against the galley's railing; 
 My thoughts flew onward to Norway's leaa. 
 With the milk-white seagulls sailing. 
 Two voices whispered behind my back; — 
 I turned — it was he and she; 
 I knew them well, though the night was black. 
 But they — ^they saw not me. 
 She gazed upon him with sorrowful eyes 
 And whispered: "Ah, if to southern skies 
 We could turn the vessel's prow. 
 And we were alone in the bark,, we twain, 
 My heart, methinks, would find peace again. 
 Nor would fever burn my brow." 
 Sir Audun answers; and straight she replies, 
 In words so fierce, so bold; 
 Like glittering stars I can see her eyes; 
 She begged him — [Breaking off. 
 
 My blood ran cold. 
 
 She begged — ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 GUDMITND. 
 
 I arose, and they vanished apace; 
 All wa,s silent, fore and aft; — 
 
 [Producing a small phial. 
 But this I found by their resting place. 
 
240 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG act i 
 
 Mabgit. 
 And that — ? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [Lowering his voice.] 
 
 Holds a secret draught. 
 A drop of this in your enemy's cup 
 And his life will sicken and wither up. 
 No leechcraft helps 'gainst the deadly thing. 
 
 And that — ? 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 That draught was meant for the King. 
 Makgit. 
 
 Great God! 
 
 Gtjdmund. 
 
 [Putting up the phial again.] 
 
 That I found it was well for them all. 
 In three days more was our voyage ended; 
 Then I fled, by my faithful men attended. 
 For I knew right well, in the royal hall. 
 That Audun subtly would work my fall, — 
 Accusing me — 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 Aye, but at Solhoug he 
 Cannot harm you. All as of old will be. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 All ? Nay, Margit — ^you then were free. 
 
ACTi] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 241 
 
 Margit. 
 You mean — ? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 I ? Nay, I meant naught. My brain 
 Is wildered ; but ah, 1 am blithe and fain 
 To be, as of old, with you sisters twain. 
 But tell me, — Signe — ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 [Points smiling towards the door on the left.] 
 
 She comes anon. 
 To greet her kinsman she needs must don 
 Her trinkets — a task that takes time, 'tis plain. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 I must see — I must see if she kflows me again. 
 
 [He goes out to the left. 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 [Following him with her eyes.] How fair and manlike 
 he is ! [With a sigh.] There is little likeness 'twixt him 
 and — [Begins putting things in order on the table, but 
 presently stops.] "You then were free," he said. Yes, 
 then! [A short pause.] 'Twas a strange tale, that of 
 the Princess who — - She held another dear, and then — 
 Aye, those women of far-off lands — I have heard it 
 before — they are not weak as we are; they do not fear 
 to pass from thought to deed. [Takes up a goblet which 
 stands on the table.] 'Twas in this beaker that Gud- 
 mund and I, when he went away, drank to his happy 
 return. 'Tis well-nigh the only heirloom I brought 
 
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i 
 
 with me to Solhoug. [Putting the goblet away in, a cup- 
 board.] How soft is this summer day; and how light 
 it is in here! So sweetly has the sun not shone for 
 three long years. 
 
 [SiGNE, and after her Gudmund, enters from the left. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Runs laughing up to Mahgit.] 
 Ha, ha, ha! He will not believe that 'tis I! 
 
 Mabgit. 
 [Smiling, to Gudmund.] 
 
 You see: while in far-off lands you strayed. 
 She, too, has altered, the little maid. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Aye truly! But that she should be — Why, 
 'Tis a marvel in very deed. 
 
 [Takes both Signe's hands and looks at her. 
 Yet, when I look in these eyes so blue. 
 The innocent child-mind I still can read — 
 Yes, Signe, I know that 'tis you! 
 I needs must laugh when I think how oft 
 I have thought of you perched on my shoulder aloft 
 As you used to ride. You were then a child; 
 Now you are a nixie, spell- weaving, wild. 
 
 Signe. 
 [Threatening with her finger.] 
 
 Beware! If the nixie's ire you awaken. 
 Soon in her nets you will find yourself taken. 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 243 
 
 GtTDMUND. 
 
 [To himse^.] 
 I am snared already, it seems to me. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 But, Gudmund, wait — ^you have still to see 
 How I've shielded your harp from the dust and the rust. 
 
 [As she goes out to the left. 
 You shall teach me all of your songs! You must! 
 
 GUDMITND. 
 
 [Softly, as he follows her with his eyes.] 
 
 She has flushed to the loveliest rose of May, 
 That was yet but a bud in the morning's ray. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Returning with the harp.] 
 Behold! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 [Taking it.] 
 
 My harp! As bright as of yore! 
 
 [Striking one or two chords. 
 Still the old chords ring sweet and clear — 
 On the wall, untouched, thou shalt hang no more. 
 
 Mabgit: 
 [Looking out at the back.] 
 Our guests are" coming. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Whib Gudmund preludes his song.] 
 
 Hush — hush! Oh, hear! 
 
244 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [Sings.] 
 
 I roamed through the uplands so heavy of cheer; 
 The little birds quavered in bush and in brere; 
 The little birds quavered, around and above: 
 Wouldst know of the sowing and growing of love ? 
 
 It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years; 
 'Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs, and by tears; 
 But swiftly 'tis sown; ere a moment speeds by. 
 Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye. 
 
 [As he strikes the concluding chords, he goes towards 
 the back, where he lays down his harp. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Thoughtfully, repeats to herself.] 
 
 But swiftly 'tis sown; ere a moment speeds by. 
 Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye. 
 
 Maegit. 
 
 [Absently.] Did you speak to me? — I heard not 
 clearly — ? 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 I ? No, no, I only meant — 
 
 [She again becomes absorbed in dreams. 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 [Half aloud; looking straight before her.] 
 
 It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years; 
 'Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs and by tears. 
 
ACT I] THE FEAST AT. SOLHOUG 245 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Returning to herself.] You said that — ? 
 
 Makgit. ' 
 
 [Drawing her hand over her brow.] Nay, 'twas noth- 
 ing. Come, we must go meet our guests. 
 
 [Bengt enters with many Guests, both men and 
 women, through the passage-way. 
 
 Guests. 
 [Sing.] 
 
 With song and harping enter we 
 
 The feast-hall opened wide; 
 Peace to our hostess kind and free. 
 
 All happiness to her betide. 
 O'er Solhoug's roof for ever may 
 
 Bright as to-day * 
 
 The heavens abide. 
 
ACT SECOND 
 
 A birch grove adjoining the house, one corner of which is 
 seen to the left. At the hack, a footpath hods up the 
 hillside. To the right of the footpath a river comes 
 tumbling down a ravine and loses itself among 
 boulders and stones. It is a light summer evening. 
 The door leading to the house stands open; the win- 
 dows are lighted up. Music is heard from within^. 
 
 The Guests. 
 
 [Singing in the Feast Hall.] 
 
 Set bow to fiddle! To sound of strings 
 We'll dance till night shall furl her wings. 
 
 Through the long hours glad and golden ! 
 Like blood-red blossom the maiden glows — 
 Come, bold young wooer, and hold the rose 
 
 In a soft embrace enf olden. 
 [Knut Gesling and Ekik of Hegqe enter from the 
 
 house. Sounds of music, dancing and merriment 
 
 are heard from within during what follows. 
 
 Erik. 
 If only you come not to repent it, Knut. 
 
 Knut. 
 That is my affair. 
 
 246 
 
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLH9UG 247 
 
 Ebik. 
 
 Well, say what you will, 'tis a daring move. You are 
 the King's Sheriff. Commands go forth to you that you 
 shall seize the person of Gudmund Alfson, wherever you 
 may find him. And now, when you have him in your 
 grasp, you proffer him your friendship, and let him go 
 freely, whithersoever he will. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 I know what I am doing. I sought him in his own 
 dwelling, but there he was not to be found. If, now, 
 I went about to seize him here — think you that Dame 
 Margit would be minded to give me Signe to wife? 
 
 Ekik. 
 
 [With deliberation.] No, by fair means it might 
 scarcely be, but — 
 
 Knut. 
 
 And by foul means I am loth to proceed. Moreover, 
 Gudmund is my friend from bygone days; and he can 
 be helpful to me. [With decision.] Therefore it shall 
 be as I have said. This evening no one at Solhoug shall 
 know that Gudmund Alfson is an outlaw; — to-morrow 
 he must look to himself. 
 
 Erik. 
 
 Aye, but the King's decree ? 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Oh, the King's decree! You know as well as I that 
 the King's decree is but little heeded here in the up- 
 lands. Were the King's decree to be enforced, many a 
 
248 TH|: FEAST AT SOLHOUG [actii 
 
 stout fellow among us would have to pay dear both for 
 
 bride-rape and for man-slaying. Come this way, I would 
 
 fain know where Signe — ? [They go out to the right. 
 
 [GuDMUND and Signe come down the footpath at the 
 
 back. 
 
 Signe. 
 
 Oh, speak ! Say on ! For sweeter far 
 Such words than sweetest music are. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 Signe, my flower, my lily fair! 
 
 Signe. 
 [In subdued, but happy wonderment.] 
 I am dear to him — I! 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 As none other I swear. 
 
 Signe. 
 
 And is it I that can bind your will! 
 And is it I that your heart can fill ! 
 Oh, dare I believe you ? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Indeed you may. 
 List to me, Signe ! The years sped away. 
 But faithful was I in my thoughts to you. 
 My fairest flowers, ye sisters two. 
 My own heart I could not clearly read. 
 When I left, my Signe was but a child, 
 A fairy elf, like the creatures wild 
 Who play, while we sleep, in wood and mead. 
 
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHj|>UG 249 
 
 But in Solhoug's hall to-day, right loud 
 
 My heart spake, and right clearly; 
 
 It told me that Margit's a lady proud. 
 
 Whilst you're the sweet maiden I love most dearly. 
 
 . SiGNE. 
 
 [Who has only half listened to his words.] 
 
 I mind me, we sat in the hearth's red glow. 
 
 One winter evening — 'tis long ago — 
 
 And you sang to me of the maiden fair 
 
 Whom the neckan had lured to his watery lair. 
 
 There she forgot both father and mother. 
 
 There she forgot both sister and brother; 
 
 Heaven and earth and her Christian speech. 
 
 And her God, she forgot them all and each. 
 
 But close by the strand a stripling stood 
 
 And he was heartsore and heavy of moodw 
 
 He struck from his harpstrings notes of woe. 
 
 That wide o'er the waters rang loud, rang low. 
 
 The spell-bound maid in the tarn so deep. 
 
 His strains awoke from her heavy sleep. 
 
 The neckan must grant her release from his rule. 
 
 She rose through the lilies afloat on the pool — 
 
 Then looked she to heaven while on green earth she t^od, 
 
 And wakened once more to her faith and her God. 
 
 GuDMUNn. 
 Signe, my fairest of flowers! 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 It seems 
 That I, too, have lived in a world of dreams. 
 But the strange deep words you to-night have spoken, 
 
250 Tl|p FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii 
 
 Of the power of love, have my slumber broken. 
 
 The heavens seemed never so blue to me,- 
 
 Never the world so fair; 
 
 I can understand, as I roam with thee. 
 
 The song of the birds in air. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 So mighty is love — it stirs in the breast 
 Thoughts and longings and happy unrest. 
 But come, let us both to your sister go. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Would you tell her — ? 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 Everything she must know. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Then go you alone; — I feel that my cheel^ 
 Would be hot with blushes to hear you speak. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 So be it, I go. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 And here will I bide; 
 
 [Listening towards the right. 
 Or better — down by the riverside, 
 I hear Knut Gesling, with maidens and men. 
 
 GuDMUNDv 
 
 There will you stay? 
 
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHaUG 251 
 
 -SiGNE. 
 
 Till you come again. 
 [She goes out to the right. Gudmund goes into the 
 house. 
 [Mahgit enters from behind the house on the left. 
 
 1 Mahgit. 
 
 In the hall there is gladness and revelry; 
 The dancers foot it with jest and glee. 
 The. air weighed hot on my brow and breast; 
 For Gudmund, he was not there. 
 
 [She draws a deep breath. 
 Out here 'tis better: here's quiet and rest. 
 How sweet is the cool night air! [A brooding silence. 
 
 That horrible thought! Oh, why should it be 
 That wherever I go it follows me ? 
 The phial — doth a secret draught contain; 
 A drop of this in my — enemy's Aip, 
 And his life would sicken and wither up; 
 The leech's skill would be tried in vain. 
 
 [Again a silence. 
 Were I sure that Gudmund-^held me dear — 
 Then little I'd care for — 
 
 [Gudmund enters from the house. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 • You, Margit, here ? 
 And alone ? I have sought you everywhere. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 'Tis cool here. I sickened of heat and glare. 
 See you how yonder the white mists glide 
 Softly over the marshes wide ? 
 
252 THfi. FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii 
 
 Here it is neither dark nor light. 
 
 But midway between them — [To herself. 
 
 — as in my breast. 
 
 [Looking at him. 
 Is't not so — when you wander on such a night 
 You hear, though but half to yourself confessed, 
 A stirring of secret life through the hush, 
 In tree and in leaf, in flower and in rush ? 
 
 [With a sudden change of tone. 
 Can you guess what I wish? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Well ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 That I could be 
 The nixie that haunts yonder upland lea. 
 How cunningly I should weave my spell! 
 Trust me — ! 
 
 GUDMTJND. 
 
 Margit, what ails you? Tell! 
 
 Mahgit. 
 [Paying no heed to him.] 
 
 How I should quaver my magic lay! 
 Quaver and croon it both night and day! 
 
 [With growing vehemence. 
 How I would lure the knight so bold 
 Through the greenwood glades to my mountain hold. 
 There were the world and its woes forgot 
 In the burning joys of our blissful lot. 
 
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHQUG 253 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Margit! Margit! 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Ever more wildly.] 
 
 At midnight's hour 
 Sweet were our sleep in my lonely bower; — 
 And if death should come with the dawn, I trow 
 'Twere sweet to die so; — what thinkest thou? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 You are sick! 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Bursting into laughter.] 
 
 Ha, ha! — Let me laugh! 'Tis good 
 To laugh when the heart is in laughing mood! 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 I see that you still have the same wild soul 
 As of old — 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [With sudden seriousness.] 
 
 Nay, let not that vex your mind, 
 'Tis only at midnight it mocks control; 
 By day I am timid as any hind. 
 How tame I have grown, you yourself must say. 
 When yo.u think on the women in lands far away — 
 Of that fair Princess — ah, she was wild ! 
 Beside her lamblike am I and mild. 
 She did not helplessly yearn and brood, 
 She would have acted; and that — 
 
254 TH^ FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 'Tis good 
 You remind me; straightway I'll cast away 
 What to me is valueless after this day — 
 
 [Takes out the phial. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 The phial! You meant — ? 
 
 GuDMtTND. 
 
 I thought it might be 
 At need a friend that should set me free 
 Should the King's men chance to lay hands on me. 
 But from to-night it has lost its worth; 
 Now will I fight all the kings of earth, 
 Gather my kinsfolk and friends to the strife. 
 And battle right stoutly for freedom and life. 
 
 [7s about to throw the phial against a rook. 
 
 Margit. 
 [Seizing his arm.'] 
 Nay, hold! Let me have it — - 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 First tell me why? 
 
 Margit. 
 
 I'd fain fling it down to the neekan hard by, 
 Who so. often has made my dull hours fleet 
 With his harping and songs, so strange and sweet. 
 Give it me! [T(ikes the phial from his hand. 
 
 There! [Feigns to throw it. into the river. 
 
ACT 11] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 255 
 
 I GUDMUND. 
 
 [Goes to the right, and looks down into the ravine.] 
 Have you thrown it away? 
 
 Margit. 
 [Concealing the phial.] 
 Aye, surely! You saw — 
 
 [Whispers as she goes towards the house. 
 Now God help and spare me! 
 The ice must now either break or bear me! [Aloud. 
 Gudmund ' 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 [Approaching.] 
 What would you ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 Teach me, I pray, 
 How to interpret the ancient lay 
 They sing of the church in the valley there : 
 A gentle knight and a lady fair, 
 They loved each other well. 
 That very day on her bier she lay 
 He on his sword-point fell. 
 They buried her by the northward spire. 
 And him by the south kirk wall; 
 And theretofore grew neither bush nor briar 
 In the hallowed ground at all. 
 But next spring from their coffins twain 
 Two lilies fair upgrew — 
 And by and by, o'er the roof-tree high, 
 They twined and they bloomed the whole year through. 
 How read you the riddle ? 
 
256 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [actii 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [Looks searchingly at her.] 
 I scarce can say. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 You may doubtless read it in many a way; 
 But its truest meaning, methinks, is clear: 
 The church can never sever two that hold each other dear. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 [To himself.] 
 
 Ye saints, if she should — ? Lest worse befall, 
 
 'Tis time indeed I told her all! [Aloud. 
 
 Do you wish for my happiness — Margit, tell! 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [In joyful agitation.] 
 Wish for it! I! 
 
 GtTDMUND. 
 
 Then, wot you well. 
 The joy of my life now rests with you — 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 [With an outburst.] 
 Gudmund I 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 Listen! 'tis time you knew — 
 
 « [He stops suddenly. 
 
 [Voices and laughter are heard by the river bank. 
 
 SiGNE and some other Girls enter from the right, 
 
 accompanied by Knut, Erik and several Younger 
 
 Men. 
 
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 257 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [Still at a distance.] Gudmund Alf son ! Wait; I must 
 speak a word with you. 
 
 [He stops, tiilking to Erik. The other Guests in 
 the meantime enter the house. 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 [To herself.] The joy of his Hfe — ! What else can he 
 mean but — ! [Half aloud.] Signe — my dear, dear sister! 
 [She puis her arm round Signe 's waist, and they go 
 towards the back talking to each other. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 [Softly, as he follows them with his eyes.] . Aye, so it 
 were wisest. Both Signe and I must away from Sol- 
 houg. Knut Gesling has shown himself my friend; he 
 will help me. < 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [Softly, to Ehik.] Yes, yes, I say, Gudmund is her 
 kinsman; he can best plead my cause. 
 
 Ehik. 
 Well, as you will. [He goes into the house. 
 
 Knut. 
 [Approaching.] Listen, Gudmund — 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 [Smiling.] Come you to tell me that you dare no 
 longer let me go free. 
 
258 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act h 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Dare! Be at your ease as to that. Knut Gesling 
 dares whatever he will. No, 'tis another matter. You 
 know that here in the district, I am held to be a wild, 
 unruly companion — • 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Aye, and if rumour lies not — 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Why no, much that it reports may be true enough. 
 But now, I must tell you — 
 
 [They go, conversing, up towards the back. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [To Mabgit, as they come forward beside the house.] I 
 understand you not. You speak as though an unlooked- 
 for happiness had befallen you. What is in your mind ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 Signe — you are still a child; you know not what it 
 means to have ever in your heart the dread of — [Sud- 
 denly breaking off.] Think, Signe, what it must be to 
 wither and die without ever having lived. 
 
 Signe. 
 
 [Looks at her in astonishment, and shakes her head.] 
 Nay, but, Margit— ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 Aye, aye, you do not understand, but none the less — 
 [ They go up again, talking to each other. Gudmund 
 and Knut come down on the other side. 
 
ACTii] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 259 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Well, if so it be — if this wild life no longer contents 
 you — ^then I will give you the best counsel that ever friend 
 gave to friend: take to wife an honourable maiden. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Say you so ? And if I now told you that 'tis even 
 that I have in mind ? 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 Good luck and happiness to you then, Knut Gesling! 
 And now you must know that I too — 
 
 Knut. 
 You ? Are you, too, so purposed ? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Aye, truly. But the King's trrath — I am a banished 
 man — 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Nay, to that you need give but little thought. As yet 
 there is no one here, save Dame Margit, that knows 
 aught of the matter; and so long as I am your friend, 
 you have one in whom you can trust securely. Now I 
 must tell you — 
 
 [He proceeds in a whisper as they go up again. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [As she and Makgit again advance.] But tell me then, 
 Margit — ! 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 More I dare not tell. you. 
 
aeo THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act n 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Then will I be more open-hearted than you. But 
 first answer me one question. [Bashfully, -with hesita- 
 tion.] Is there-:— is there no one who has told you any- 
 thing concerning me? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 Concerning you ? Nay, what should that be ? 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [As before, looking downwards.] You said to me this 
 morning : if a wooer came riding hither — ? 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 That is true. [To herself.] Knut Gesling — has he 
 alrea(Jy — ? [Eagerly, to Signe.] Well ? What then ? 
 
 ' Signe. 
 
 [Softly, but with exultation.] The wooer has come! 
 He has come, Margit! I knew not then whom you 
 meant; but now — ! 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 And what have you answered him ? 
 
 Signe. 
 
 Oh, how should I know? [Flinging her arms round 
 her sister's neck.] But the world seems to me so rich 
 and beautiful since the moment when he told me that 
 he held me dear. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 Why, Signe, Signe, I cannot understand that you should 
 so quickly — ! You scarce knew him before to-day. 
 
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 261 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Oh, 'tis but little I yet know of love; but this I know 
 that what the song says is true: 
 
 Full swiftly 'tis sown; ere a moment speeds by, 
 Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye — 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 So be it; and since so it is, I need no longer hold 
 aught concealed from you. Ah^ 
 
 [She stops suddenly, as she sees Knut and Gtjdmund 
 approaching. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [In a tone of satisfaction.] Ha, this is as I would have 
 it, Gudmund. Here is my hand! 
 
 Mabgit. 
 [To herself ] What is this? * 
 
 Gudmund. 
 [To Knut.] And here is mine! [They shake hands. 
 
 Knut. 
 But now we must each of us name who it is — 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Good. Here at Solhoug, among so many fair women, 
 I have found her whom — 
 
 Knut. 
 
 I too. And I will bear her home this very night, if it 
 be needful. 
 
262 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 [Who has approached unobserved.] All saints ' in 
 heaven ! 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [Nods to Knut.] The same is my intent! 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Who has also been listening.] Gudmund! 
 
 GuDMUND AND KnUT. 
 
 [Whispering to each other, as they both point at Signe.] 
 There she is! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 [Starting.] Aye, mine. 
 
 Knut. 
 [lAkevrise.] No, mine! 
 
 Makgit. 
 [Softly, half bewildered.] Signe! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 [As before, to Knut.] What mean you by that ? 
 
 Knut. 
 I mean that 'tis Signe whom I — 
 
 Gudmund. 
 Signe! Signe is my betrothed in the sight of God. 
 
ACT 11] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 263 
 
 Margit. 
 [With a cry.] It was she! No — no! 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [To himself , as he catclies sight of her.] Margit! She 
 has heard everything. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Ho, ho I So this is how it stands ? Nay, Dame Mar- 
 git, 'tis needless to put on such an air of wonder; now I 
 understand everything. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [To SiGNE.] But not a moment ago you said — ? 
 [Svddenly grasping the situation.] 'Twas Gudmund you 
 meant! 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Astonished.] Yes, did you not know it! But what 
 ails you, Margit ? 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [In an almost toif^less voice.] Nay, nothing, nothing. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [To Margit.] And this morning, when you made me 
 give my word that I would stir no strife here to-night— 
 you already knew that Gudmund Alfson was coming. 
 Ha, ha, think not that you can hoodwink Knut Gesling! 
 Signe has become dear to me. Even this morning ' was 
 but my hasty vow that drove me to seek her hand; but 
 now — 
 
264 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [actii 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [To Mabgit.] He? Was this the wooer that was 
 in your mind ? 
 
 Makgit. 
 Hush, hush! 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [Firmly and harshly.] Dame Margit — you are her 
 elder sister; you shall give me an answer. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Battling with herself.] Signe has already made her 
 choice; — I have naught to answer. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 ■Good; then I have nothing more to do at Solhoug. 
 But after midnight — mark you this — the day is at an 
 end; then you may chance to see me again, and then 
 Fortune must decide whether it be Gudmund or I that 
 shall bear Signe away from this house. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 Aye, try if you dare; it shall cost ybu a bloody sconce. 
 
 Signe. 
 [In terror.] Gudmund! By all the saints — ! 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Gently, gently, Gudmund Alfson! Ere sunrise you 
 shall be in my power. And she — your lady-love — 
 [Ooes up to the door, beckons and balls in a low voice.] 
 
ACT 11] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 265 
 
 Erik! Erik! come hither! we must away to our kins- 
 folk. [Threateningly, while Erik shows himself in the 
 doorway.] Woe upon you all when I come again ! 
 
 [He and Erik go off to the left at the back. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Softly to GuDMtJND.] Oh, tell me, what does all this 
 mean? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [Whispering.] We must both leave Solhoug this very 
 night. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 God shield me — you would — ! 
 
 Gtjdmund. 
 
 Say naught of it! No word to any one, not even to 
 your sister. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [To herself.] She — it is she! She of whom he had 
 scarce thought before to-night. Had I been free, I 
 know well whom he had chosen.^ — Aye, free! 
 
 [Bengt and Guests, both Men and Women, enter 
 from the house. 
 
 Young Men and Maidens. 
 
 Out here, out here be the feast arrayed. 
 While the birds are asleep in the greenwood shade. 
 How sweet to sport in the flowery glade 
 'Neath the birches. 
 
266 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act n 
 
 Out here, out here, shall be mirth and jest. 
 No sigh on the lips and no care in the breast. 
 When the fiddle is tuned at the dancers' 'hest, 
 'Neath the birches. 
 
 « 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 That is well, that is well ! So I fain would see it ! I 
 am merry, and my wife likewise; and therefore I pray 
 ye all to be merrry along with us. 
 
 One of the Guests. 
 Aye, now let us have a stave-match.' 
 
 Many. 
 
 [Shout.] Yes, yes, a stave-match! 
 
 Anotheb Guest. 
 
 Nay, let that be; it leads but to strife at the feast. 
 [Lowering his voice.] Bear in mind that Knut Gosling 
 is with us to-night. 
 
 Several. 
 
 [Whispering among themselves.] Aye, aye, that is 
 true. Remember the last time, how he — . Best be- 
 ware. 
 
 An Old Man. 
 
 But you. Dame Margit — I know your kin had ever 
 wealth of tales in store; and you yourself, even as a 
 child, knew many a fair legend. 
 
 ' A contest in impromptu verse-making. 
 
ACT 11] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 267 
 
 Margit. 
 
 Alas! I have forgot them all. But ask Gudmund 
 Alfson, my kinsman; he knows a tale that is merry 
 enough. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 [In a low voice, imploringly,] Margit! 
 
 Margit. 
 
 Why, what ' a pitiful countenance you put on ! Be 
 merry, Gudmund! Be merry! Aye, aye, it comes easy 
 to you, well I wot. [Laughing, to the Guests.] He 
 has seen the huldra to-night. She would fain have 
 tempted him; but Gudmund is a faithful swain. [Turns 
 again to Gudmund.] Aye, but the tale is not finished 
 yet. When you bear away your lady-love, over hill and 
 through forest, be sure you turn not round; be sure you 
 never lopk back — the huldra sil^ laughing behind every 
 bush; and when all is done — [In a low voice, coming 
 close up to him] ^you, will go no further than she will 
 let you. [She crosses to the right.] 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Oh, God! Oh, God! 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Going arourtd among the Guests in high contentment.] 
 Ha, ha, ha ! Dame Margit knows how to set the mirth 
 afoot! When she takes it in hand, she does it much 
 better than I. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 [To himself.] She threatens! I must tear the last 
 hope out of her breast; else will peace never come to 
 
268 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii 
 
 her mind. [Turns to the Gjjests.] I mind me of a little 
 song. If it please you to hear it — 
 
 Several of the Guests. 
 
 Thanks, thanks, Gudmund Alfson! 
 
 [They close around him, some sitting, others standing. 
 Makgit leans against a tree in front on the right. 
 SiGNE stands on the left, near the house. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 [Sings.] 
 
 I rode into the wildwood, 
 
 I sailed across the sea. 
 But 'twas at home I wooed and won 
 
 A maiden fair and free. 
 
 It was the Queen of Elfland, 
 
 She waxed full wroth and grim : , 
 
 Never, she swore, shall that maiden fair 
 Ride to the church with him. 
 
 Hear me, thou Queen of Elfland. 
 
 Vain, vain are threat and spell; 
 For naught can sunder two true hearts 
 
 That love each other well ! 
 
 An Old Man. 
 
 That is a right fair song. See how the young swains 
 cast their glances thitherward! [Pointing towards the 
 Girls.] Aye, aye, doubtless each has his own. 
 
 Bbngt. 
 
 [Making eyes at Margit.] Yes, I have mine, that is 
 sure enough. Ha, ha, ha! 
 
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 269 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [ To herself, quivering.] To have to suffer all this shame 
 and scorn! No, no; now to essay the last remedy! 
 
 Bengt. 
 What ails you ? Meseems you look so pale. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 'Twill soon pass over. [Turns to the Guests.] Did I 
 say e'en now that I had forgotten all my tales? I be- 
 think me now that I remember one. 
 
 Bengt. 
 Good, good, my wife! Come, let us hear it. 
 
 Young Girls. 
 [Urgently.] Yes, tell it us, tell it us. Dame Margit! 
 
 Margit. 
 
 I almost fear that 'twill little please you; but that must 
 be as it may. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [To himself.] Saints in heaven, surely she would 
 not— I 
 
 Margit. 
 
 It was a fair and noble maid. 
 
 She dwelt in her father's hall; 
 
 Both linen and silk did she broider and braid. 
 
 Yet found in it solace small. 
 
 For she sat there alone in cheerless state. 
 
 Empty were hall and bower; 
 
270 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii 
 
 In the pride of her heart, she was fain to mate 
 
 With a chieftain of pelf and power. 
 
 But now 'twas the Hill- King, he rode from the north. 
 
 With his henchmen and his gold; 
 
 On the third day at night he in triumph fared forth, , 
 
 Bearing h e r to his mountain hold. 
 
 Full many a summer she dwelt in the hill; 
 
 Out of beakers of gold she could drink at her will. 
 
 Oh, fair are the flowers of the valley, I trow. 
 
 But only in dreams can she gather them now! 
 
 'Twas a youth, right gentle and bold to boot. 
 
 Struck his harp with such magic might 
 
 That it rang to the mountain's inmost root. 
 
 Where she languished in the night. 
 
 The sound in her soul waked a wondrous mood — 
 
 Wide open the mountain-gates seemed to stand; 
 
 The peace of God lay over the land. 
 
 And she saw how it all was fair and good. 
 
 There had happened what never had happened before; 
 
 She had wakened to life as his harp-strings thrilled; 
 
 And her eyes were opened to all the store 
 
 Of treasure wherewith the good earth is filled. 
 
 For mark this well : it hath ever been found 
 
 That those who in caverns deep lie bound 
 
 Are lightly freed by the harp's glad sound. 
 
 He saw her prisoned, he heard her wail — 
 
 But he cast unheeding his harp aside. 
 
 Hoisted straightway his silken sail. 
 
 And sped away o'er the waters wide 
 
 To stranger strands with his new-found bride. 
 
 [With ever-increasing ptission. 
 So fair was thy touch on the golden strings 
 That my breast heaves high and my spirit sings! 
 I must out, I must out to the sweet green leas! 
 
Act II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 271 
 
 I die in the Hill-King's fastnesses! 
 
 He mocks at my woe as he clasps his bride 
 
 And sails away o'er the waters wide ! {Shrieks. 
 
 With me all is over; my hill-prison barred; 
 Unsunned is the day, and the night all unstarred. 
 
 \She totters and, fainting, seeks to support herself 
 I against the trunk of a tree. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Weeping, has rushed up to her, and takes her in her 
 arms.] Margit! My sister! 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [At the same time supporting her.] Help! Help! she 
 is dying! 
 
 [Bengt and t/ie . Guests j^ocsfc round them with cries 
 of alarm. 
 
ACT THIRD 
 
 The hall at Solhoug as before, but now in disorder after 
 the feast. It is night still, but with a glimmer ofap- 
 proachirig dawn in the room and over the landscape 
 without. 
 
 Bengt stands outside in the passage-way, with a beaker of 
 ale in his hand. A party of Guests are in the act 
 of leaving the house. In the room, a Maid-Ser- 
 vant is restoring order. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Calls to the departing Guests.] God speed you, 
 then, and bring you back ere long to Solhoug. Me- 
 thinks you, like the rest, might have stayed and slept 
 till morning. Well, well! Yet hold — I'll e'en go with 
 you to the gate. I must drink your healths once more. 
 
 [He goes out. 
 Guests. 
 
 [Sing in the distance.] 
 
 Farewell, and God's blessing on one and all 
 
 Beneath this roof abiding! 
 The road must be faced. To the fiddler we call: 
 Tune up ! Our cares deriding. 
 With dance and with song 
 We'll shorten the way so weary and long. 
 Right merrily off we go. 
 
 [The song dies away in the distance. 
 [Mabgit enters the hall by the door on the right. 
 272 
 
ACT III] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 273 
 
 Maid. 
 God save us, my lady, have you left your bed ? 
 
 Margit. 
 
 I am well. Go you and sleep. Stay — tell me, are 
 the guests all gone? 
 
 Maid. 
 
 No, not all; some wait till later in the day; ere now 
 they are sleeping sound. 
 
 Mahgit. ' 
 And Gudmund Alfson — ? 
 
 Maid. 
 
 He, too, is doubtless asleep. [Points to the right.] 
 'Tis some time since he went to "his chamber — yonder, 
 across the passage. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 Good; you may go. [The Maid goes out to the left. 
 [Margit walks slowly across the hall, seats herself 
 by the table on the right, and gazes out at the open 
 window. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 To-morrow, then, Gudmund will ride away 
 Out into the world so great and wide. 
 Alone with my husband here I must stay; 
 And well do I know what will then betide. 
 Like the broken branch and the trampled flower 
 I shall suffer and fade from hour to hour. 
 
 [Short pause; she leans back in her chair. 
 
274 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act hi 
 
 I once heard a tale of a child blind from birth, 
 
 Whose childhood was full of joy and mirth; 
 
 For the mother, with spells of magic might. 
 
 Wove for the dark eyes a world of light. 
 
 And the child looked forth with wonder and glee 
 
 Upon valley and hill, upon land and sea. 
 
 Then suddenly the witchcraft failed — • 
 
 The child once more was in darkness pent; 
 
 Good-bye to games and merriment; 
 
 With longing vain the red cheeks paled ^ 
 
 And its wail of woe, as it pined away. 
 
 Was ceaseless, and sadder than words can say. — 
 
 Oh! like that child's my eyes were sealed. 
 
 To the light and the life of summer blind — 
 
 [She springs up. 
 But n o w — ! And I in this cage confined! 
 No, now is the worth of my youth revealed ! 
 Three years of life I on him have spent — 
 My husband — but were I longer content 
 This hapless, hopeless weird to dree. 
 Meek as a dove I needs must be. 
 I am wearied to death of petty brawls; 
 The stirring life of the great world calls. 
 I will follow Gudmund with shield and bow, 
 I will share his joys, I will soothe his woe. 
 Watch o'er him both by night and day. 
 All that behold shall envy the life 
 Of the valiant knight and Margit his wife. — 
 His wife! [Wrings her hands. 
 
 Oh God, what is this I say! 
 Forgive me, forgive me, and oh ! let me feel 
 The peace that hath power both to soothe and to heal. 
 
 [Walks back and forward, brooding silently, 
 Signe, my sister — ? How hateful 'twere 
 
ACT in] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 275 
 
 To steal her glad young life from her! 
 
 But who can tell ? In very sooth 
 
 She may love him but with the light love of youth. 
 
 [Again silence; she takes out the little phial, looks 
 long at it and says under her breath: 
 This phial — were I its powers to try — 
 My husband would sleep for ever and aye ! 
 
 [Horror-struck . 
 No, no! To the river's depths with it straight! 
 
 [In the act of throwing it out of the window, stops. 
 And yet I could — 'tis not yet too late. — 
 
 [With an expression of mingled horror and rdpture, 
 whispers. 
 With what a magic resistless might 
 Sin masters us in our own despite! 
 Doubly alluring methinks is the goal 
 I must reach through blood, with the Wreck of my soul. 
 [Bengt, luith the empty beakqy in his hand, comes in 
 from the passage-way; his face is red;' he stdggers 
 slightly. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Flinging the beaker upon the table on the left.] My 
 faith, this has been a feast that will be the talk of the 
 country. [Sees Mabgit.] Eh, are you there ? You are 
 well again. Good, good. 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 [Who in the meantime has concealed the phial.] Is the 
 door barred ? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Seating himself at the table on the left.] I have seen to 
 everything. I went with the last guests as far as the 
 
276 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [actiu 
 
 gates. But what became of Knut Gesling to-night? — 
 Give me mead, Margit! I am thirsty. Fill this cup. 
 [Mabgit fetches a flagon of mead from a cupboard, 
 
 and Jills the goblet which is on the table in front of 
 
 him. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 [Crossing to the right with the flagon.] You asked 
 about Knut Gesling. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 That I did. The boaster, the braggart! I have not 
 forgot his threats of yester-morning. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 He used worse words when he left to-night. 
 
 Bengt. 
 He did ? So much the better. I will strike him dead. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 [Smiling contemptuously.] H'm — 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 I will kill him, I say! I fear not to face ten such 
 fellows as he. In the store-house hangs my grandfather's 
 axe; its shaft is inlaid with silver; with that axe in my 
 hands, I tell you — ! [Thumps the table and drinks.] 
 To-morrow I shall arm myself, go forth with all my men, 
 and slay Knut Gesling. [Empties the beaker. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 [To herself] Oh, to have to live with him! 
 
 [Is in the act of leaving the room. 
 
ACT III] THE FEAST AT SOLHOIJG 277 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Margit, come here! Fill my cup again. [She ap- 
 proaches; he tries to draw her down on to his knee.] Ha, 
 ha, ha! You are right fair, Margit! I love you well! 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 [Freeing herself.] Let me go! 
 
 [Crosses, with the goblet in her hand, to the left. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 You are not in the humour to-night. , Ha, ha, ha! 
 That means no great matter, I Ifnow. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 [Softly, as she fills the goblet.] Oh, that this might be 
 tjie last beaker I should fill for you. 
 
 [She leaves the goblet on the table and is making her 
 way out to the left. 
 
 Bengt 
 
 Hark to me, Margit. For one thing you may thank 
 Heaven, and that is, that I made you my wife before 
 Gudmund Alfson came back. 
 
 Mabgit. 
 [Stops at the door.] Why so? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Why, say you ? Am I not ten times the richer man ? 
 And certain I am that he would have sought you for^ 
 his wife, had you not been the mistress of Solhoug. 
 
278 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG Iactiii 
 
 Mabgit. 
 
 [Drawing nearer and glancing at the goblet.] Say you 
 so? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 I could take my oath upon it. Bengt Gauteson has 
 two sharp eyes in his head. But he may still have Signe. 
 
 Margit. 
 And you think he will — ? 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Take her ? Ay, since he cannot have you. But had 
 you been free, — then — Ha, ha, ha! Gudmund is like 
 the rest. He envies me my wife. That is why I set 
 such store by you, Margit. Here with the goblet again. 
 And let it be full to the brim! 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 [Goes unwillingly across to the right.] You shall have 
 it straightway. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Knut Gesling is a suitor for Signe, too, but him I am 
 resolved to slay. Gudmund is an honourable man; he 
 shall have her. Think, Margit, what good days we 
 shall have with them for neighbours. We will go a- visit- 
 ing each other, and then will we sit the live-long day, 
 each with his wife on his knee, drinking and talking of 
 this and of that. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Whose mental struggle is visibly becoming more severe, 
 involuntarily takes out the phial as she says:] No doubt, 
 no doubt! 
 
ACT III] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG " 279 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 Ha, ha, ha! it may be that at first Gudmund will 
 look askance at me when I take you in my arms; but 
 that, I doubt not, he will soon get over. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 This is more than woman can bear! [Pours the con- 
 tents of the phial into the goblet, goes to the window and 
 throws out the phial, then says, without looking at him.] 
 Your beaker is full. 
 
 Bengt. 
 Then bring it hither! 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Battling in an agony of indecision, at last says:] I 
 pray you drink no more to-night! 
 
 Bengt. * 
 
 [Leans back in his chair and laughs.] Oho! You are 
 impatient for my coming? Get you in; I will follow 
 you soon. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Suddenly decided.] Your beaker is full. [Points.] 
 There it is. [She goes quickly out to the left. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Rising.] I like her well. It repents me not a whit 
 that I took her to wife, though of heritage she owned 
 no more than yonder goblet and the brooches of her 
 wedding gown. 
 
 [He goes to the table at the window and takes the goblet. 
 [A House-Carl enters hurriedly and with scared looks, 
 from the back. 
 
280 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act m 
 
 Hotjse-Cakl. 
 
 [CaUs.] Sir Bengt, Sir Bengt ! haste forth with all the 
 speed you can! Knut Gesling with an armed train is 
 drawing near the house. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 [Putting down the goblet.] Knut Gesling? Who 
 brings the tidings.'' 
 
 House-Cabl. 
 
 Some of your guests espied him on the road beneath, 
 and hastened back to warn you. 
 
 Bengt. 
 
 E'en so. Then will I — ! Fetch me my grandfather's 
 battle-axe ! 
 
 [He and the House-Cabl go out at the back. 
 [Soon after, Gudmund and Signe enter quietly and 
 cautiously by the door on the right. 
 
 Signe. 
 
 [In muffed tones.] 
 
 It must, then, be so! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 [Also softly.] 
 
 Necessity's might 
 Constrains us. 
 
 Signe. 
 
 Oh! thus under cover of night 
 To steal from the valley where I was born! 
 
 [Dries her eyes. 
 
ACT III] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 281 
 
 Yet shalt thou hear no plaint forlorn. 
 'Tis for thy sake my home I flee; 
 Wert thou not outlawed, Gudmund dear, 
 I'd stay with my sister. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Only to be 
 Ta'en by Knut Gesling, with bow and spear. 
 Swung on the croup of his battle-horse. 
 And made his wife by force. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Quick, let us flee. But whither go ? 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Down by the fiord a friend I know; 
 
 He'll find us a ship. O'er the salt sea foam 
 
 We'll sail away south to Denmark's bowers. 
 
 There waits you there a happy home; 
 
 Right joyously will fleet the hours; 
 
 The fairest of flowers they bloom in the shade 
 
 Of the beech-tree glade. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Bursts into tears.] 
 
 Farewell, my poor sister! Like mother tender 
 Thou hast guarded the ways my feet have trod. 
 Hast guided my footsteps, aye praying to God, 
 The Almighty, to be my defender.— 
 Gudmund — here is a goblet filled with mead; 
 Let us drink to her; let us wish that ere long 
 Her soul may again be calm and strong. 
 And that God may be good to her need. 
 
 [She takes the goblet into her hands 
 
282 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act iii 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Aye, let us drain it, naming her name! [Starts. 
 
 Stop! [Takes the goblet from her. 
 
 For meseems it is the same — 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 'Tis Margit's beaker. 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 [Examining it carefully.] 
 
 By Heaven, 'tis so! 
 I mind me still of the red wine's glow 
 As she drank from it on the day we parted 
 To our meeting again in health and glad-hearted. 
 To herself that draught betided woe. 
 No, Signe, ne'er drink wine or mead 
 From that goblet. [Pours its contents out at the window. 
 We must away with all speed. 
 [Tumult and calls without, at ths hack. 
 
 SlGNli. 
 
 List, Gudmund ! Voices and trampling feet ! 
 
 GuDMtJND. 
 
 Knut Gesling's voice! 
 
 Signe. 
 
 O save us, Lord! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 [Places himself in front of her.] 
 
 Nay, nay, fear nothing, Signe sweet — 
 I am here, and my good sword. 
 
 [Mabgit CQmes in in haste from the left. 
 
ACT III] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 283 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Listening to the noise.] What means this? Is my 
 husband — ? 
 
 GUDMUND AND SiGNE. 
 
 Margit! 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 [Catches sight of them.] Gudmund! And Signe! Are 
 you here? 
 
 Signe. 
 
 [Going towards her.] Margit — dear sister! 
 
 Mahgit. 
 
 [Appalled, having seen the goblet which Gudmund still 
 holds in his hand.] The goblet ! Who has drunk from it ? 
 
 Gudmund.*. 
 [Confused.] Drunk — ? I and Signe — we meant — 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Screams.] O God, have mercy ! Help ! Help ! They 
 will die! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 [Setting down the goblet.] Margit — ! 
 
 Signe. 
 
 What ails you, sister ? 
 
 Margit. 
 
 [Toioards the back.] Help, help ! Will no one help ? 
 [.4 House-Carl rushes in from the passage-way. 
 
234 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act m 
 
 House-Carl. 
 
 [Calls in a terrified voice.] Lady Margit! Your, hus- 
 band — ! 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 He — has he, too, drunk — ! 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 [To himself.] Ah! now I understand — 
 
 House-Cakl. 
 Knut Gesling has slain him. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Slain ! 
 
 GUDMTJND. 
 
 [Drawing his sword.] Not yet, I hope. [Whispers to 
 Mabgit.] Fear not. No one has drunk from your 
 goblet. 
 
 , Mabgit. 
 
 Then thanks be to God, who has saved us all! 
 
 [She sinks down on a chair to the left. Gudmund 
 hastens towards the door at the back. ' 
 
 Another House-Cabl. 
 
 [Enters, stopping him.] You come too late. Sir 
 Bengt is dead. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Too late, then, too late. 
 
ACT III] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 285 
 
 House-Carl. 
 
 The guests and your men have prevailed against the 
 murderous crew. Knut Gesling and his men are pris- 
 oners. Here they come. 
 
 [Gudmund's men, and a number of Guests and 
 House-Cabls, lead in Knut Gesling, Ehik op 
 Hegge, and several of Knut's men, bound. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 [Who is pale, says in a low voice.] Man-slayer, Gud- 
 mund. What say you to that ? 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 Knut, Knut, what have you done? 
 
 Ekik. 
 'Twas a mischance, of that I can' take my oath. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 He ran at me swinging his axe; I meant but to defend 
 myself, and struck the death-blow unawares. 
 
 Erik. 
 Many here saw all that befell. 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Lady Margit, crave what fine you will. I am ready 
 to pay it. 
 
 Margit. 
 
 I crave naught. God will judge us all. Yet stay— one 
 thing I require. Forgo your evil design upon my sister. 
 
286 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act in 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Never again shall I essay to redeem my baleful pledge. 
 From this day onward I am a better man. Yet would I 
 fain escape dishonourable punishment for my deed. [To 
 GuDMUND.] Should you be restored to favour and place 
 again, say a good word for me to the King! 
 
 GuDMUND. 
 
 I? Ere the sun sets, I must have left the country. 
 [Astonishment amongst the Guests. Erik, in whis- 
 pers, explains the situation. 
 
 Margit. 
 [To Gudmund.] You go ? And Signe with you ? 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 [Beseechingly.] Margit ! 
 
 Mabgit. 
 Good fortune follow you both! 
 
 Signe. 
 [Flinging her arms round Margit's neck.] Dear sister! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Margit, I thank you. And now farewell. [Listening.] 
 Hush! I hear the tramp of hoofs in the court-yard. 
 
 Signe. 
 
 [Apprehensively.] Strangers have arrived. 
 
 [A HousE-CAHii appears in the doorway at the bach 
 
ACT in] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 287 
 
 House-Carl. 
 
 The King's men are without. They seek Gudmund 
 Alfson. 
 
 SiGNE. 
 
 Oh God! 
 
 Margit. 
 [In great alarm.] The King's men! 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 All is at an end, then. Oh Signe, to lose you now — 
 could there be a harder fate ? 
 
 Knut. 
 
 Nay, Gudmund; sell your life dearly, man! Unbind 
 us; we are ready to fight for you, one and all. 
 
 Erik. 
 
 [Looks out.] 'Twould be in vain; they are too many 
 for us. 
 
 Signe. 
 
 Here they come. Oh Gudmund, Gudmund ! 
 
 [The King's Messenger enters from the back, with 
 his escort. ' 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 In the King's name I seek you, Gudmund Alfson, and 
 bring you his behests. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Be it so. Yet am I guiltless; I swear it by all that 
 is holy! 
 
288 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act hi 
 
 Messenger. 
 We know it. 
 
 GUDMUND. 
 
 What say you ? [Agitation amongst those present. 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 I am ordered to bid you as a guest to the King's house. 
 His friendship is yours as it was before, and along with 
 it he bestows on you rich fiefs. 
 
 Signe! 
 Gudmund ! 
 But tell me— ? 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Signe. 
 Gudmund 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 Your enemy, the Chancellor Audun Hugleikson, has 
 fallen. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 The Chancellor! 
 
 Guests. 
 [To each other, in a half-whisper.] Fallen! 
 
 Messenger. 
 
 Three days ago he was beheaded at Bergen. [Low- 
 ering his voice.] His offence was against Norway's 
 Queen. 
 
ACT III] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 289 
 
 Makgit. 
 
 [Placing herself between Gudmund and SigneJ 
 
 Thus punishment treads on the heels of crime! 
 
 Protecting angels, loving and bright, 
 
 Have looked down in mercy on me to-night. 
 
 And come to my rescue while yet it was time. 
 
 Now know I that life's most precious treasure 
 
 Is nor worldly wealth nor earthly pleasure, 
 
 I have felt the remorse, the terror I know. 
 
 Of those who wantonly peril their soul, 
 
 To St. Sunniva's cloister forthwith I go. — 
 
 [Before Gudmund and Signe can speak. 
 
 Nay: think not to move me or control. 
 
 [Places Signe's hand in Gudmund 's. 
 
 Take her then, Gudmund, and make her your bride. 
 
 Your union is holy; God's on your side. 
 
 [Waving farewell, she goes towards the doorway on, 
 the left. Gudmund and Signe follow her, she 
 stops them with a motion of her hand, goes out, 
 and shuts the door behind her. At this moment 
 the sun rises and sheds its light into the hall. 
 
 Gudmund. 
 
 Signe — my wife !, See, the morning glow ! 
 'Tis the morning of our young love. Rejoice ! 
 
 Signe. 
 
 All my fairest of dreams and of memories I owe 
 
 To the strains of thy harp and the sound of thy voice. 
 
 My noble minstrel, to joy or sadness 
 
 Tune thou that harp as seems thee best; 
 
 There are chords, believe me, within my breast 
 
 To answer to thine, or of woe or of gladness. 
 
290 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act iii 
 
 Chords of Men and Women. 
 
 Over earth keeps watch the eye of light, 
 Guardeth lovingly the good man's ways, 
 Sheddeth round him its consoling rays; — 
 Praise be to the Lord ip heaven's height! 
 
LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
LOVE'S COMEDY 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Kcerlighedens Komedie was published at Christiania in 
 January, 1863. The polite world— so far as such a thing 
 existed at that time in the Northern capital — received it 
 with an outburst of indignation not now entirely easy to 
 understand. It has indeed faults enough. The char- 
 acter-drawing is often crude, the action, though full of 
 effective by-play, extremely slight, and the sensational 
 climax has little relation to human nature as exhibited in 
 Norway, or out of it, at that or any* other time. But the 
 sting lay in the unflattering veracity of the piece as a 
 whole; in the merciless portrayal of the trivialities of per- 
 sons, or classes, high in their own esteem; in the unex- 
 ampled effrontery of bringing a clergyman upon the stage. 
 All these have long since passed, in Scandinavia, into the 
 category of the things which people take with their Ibsen 
 as a matter of course, and the play is welcomed with de- 
 light by every Scandinavian audience. But in 1864 the 
 matter was serious, and Ibsen meant it to be so. 
 
 For they were years of ferment — those six or seven 
 which intervened between his return to Christiania from 
 Bergen in 1857, and his departure for Italy in 1864. He 
 was just entering on his intellectual prime. Ten years of 
 chequered, and mostly stern, experience had only ma- 
 
 293 
 
294 LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
 tured and deepened the uncompromising sincerity which 
 had made the Grimstad apprentice an Ishmael in his 
 little community; had only turned the uncomfortable boy, 
 who tried to "waken Scandinavia" to the bitter need of 
 Hungary in 1849, into the man who was presently to 
 waken the civilised world to the yet more appalling verac- 
 ities of Ghosts. The atmosphere of Christiania in the 
 fifties was little calculated to assuage this temper, and 
 Ibsen's position brought with it fresh elements of prov- 
 ocation. The newly founded " Norwegian Theatre," of 
 which he had accepted the directorship, barely main- 
 tained itself, in the very capital of Norway, against 
 the ascendancy of Danish taste and acting, enthroned 
 then at the "Christiania" Theatre. A little band of 
 "nationalists' championed it valiantly in the press; but 
 the solid phalanx of well-to-do and official society looked 
 upon the nationalist movement, and especially upon the 
 nationalist drama, as a provincial heresy; and the Nor- 
 wegian Theatre, crippled for want of resources, found 
 itself unable to stage just the plays which would most 
 powerfully have vindicated the nationalist cause. Ibsen's 
 own Vikings in Helgeland, in particular, rejected as too 
 "Norwegian" by the Danish Theatre, was impracticable 
 for his own. The finances of the theatre improved 
 somewhat under Ibsen's management, but it finally be- 
 came bankrupt, and his position was throughout one of 
 discouragement and disillusion, added to the anxieties of 
 a very slender income. 
 
 It is likely enough that this state of things did not ren- 
 der the director of the Norwegian Theatre less alive to 
 the foibles of Christiania society. But the scathing ex- 
 
INTRODUCTION 295 
 
 posure of some of them in Love's Comedy sprang from a 
 deeper root. Norse nationalism, in the patriotic sense, 
 had absolutely no part in inspiring or provoking the play; 
 Norse patriots, indeed, were to be among the loudest in 
 decrying it. Ibsen himself, always more "Scandinavian" 
 than Norwegian, was the least "Norse" of all his literary 
 associates, and, keenly as he recognised the inadequacy 
 of the Danish dramatic tradition, outgrew with extreme 
 slowness his early taste for the classic elegance of Danish 
 verse. As a student he had listened with delight to the 
 lectures of Welhaven, the most Danish of Norwegian 
 poets; Heiberg himself, the centre of Danish literary in- 
 fluence in Norway, and the director of the Christiania 
 Theatre, he admired as a poet; and the summary rejec- 
 tion of the Vikings by the aiitocratic Dane did not pre- 
 vent its author from commemorating him, upon his 
 death three years later, in a noble €irge. But even apart 
 from Ibsen, the soul of the nationalist movement in litera- 
 ture was something much more vital than a mere pitting 
 of Norwegian against Danish idiosyncrasy. It was an 
 attempt to vindicate for Scandinavian poetry the bold 
 grasp of realities, the energetic application of ideas to 
 life, the masculine and expressive beauty, which are 
 the birthright of every fresh and original literature, and 
 which the faded Romanticism of Denmark could no 
 longer offer. Vinje and Botten-Hansen, Ibsen's closest 
 literary associates, had drawn their literary sustenance 
 less from the " Norse " coryphaeus of the last generation, 
 Wergeland, than from Heine and from Hegel. And both 
 these influences left their mark on Ibsen himself. Heine's 
 brilliant paradoxes appealed to a poet whose grip upon 
 
296 LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
 reality was imineasurably firmer, but who habitually 
 used truth to startle, not to persuade. And Hegel's con- 
 ception of spiritual advance as a process in which self is 
 slain in order that it may truly live, helped to define, if 
 not to generate, Ibsen's profoundly characteristic doctrine 
 that "nought abideth but the lost." The present drama, 
 saturated with these influences, is more deeply tinctured 
 with them than any of its successors. ' Falk, the young poet 
 who dazzles and outrages the philistine world, is a pal- 
 pably Heinesque figure; his lyric speech matches Heine's 
 own in brilliance and in its daring descents to prose, — 
 pointed out with disapproval at the outset by the pedant 
 of Romanticism, Miss Jay. And the conviction which 
 leads Falk and Svanhild to the far from "comic" climax 
 of this Comedy of Love, that only by renunciation can 
 Love suj-vive, this Ibseniain philosophy of love, so strange, 
 so repelling to most readers, was at least matured under 
 the stimulus of Hegel. It was, from the vantage-ground 
 — or the dizzy pinnacle — of this conception of love that 
 Ibsen looked down upon the heterogeneous phenomena 
 current in society under that name and upon the uni' 
 versal assumption that marriage was its natural and 
 (for the respectable) only imaginable goal. 
 
 But at this point Ibsen's renunciatory idealism was 
 met by, and taken over into, another current of thought, 
 perhaps more fundamentally his own, and with which 
 Hegel in any case had nothing to do, for it ran utterly 
 counter to him. The spiritual ascetic who counselled 
 lovers to save their love by losing it, was doubled with 
 an almost fanatical individualist, for whom marriage, 
 like every other form of social nexus, was full of snares 
 
INTRODUCTION 297 
 
 atid pitfalls to the soul, which only cool and circumspect 
 intelligence availed to avoid. Into the suburban draw- 
 ing-rooms, accordingly, where the manufacture of happy 
 pairs was so gaily and assiduously carried on, Ibsen pre- 
 pared to fling his double paradox that m&rriage is the 
 death of Love, and Love the ruin of marriage. An amaz- 
 ing. Protean thing this Ibsenian Love, which needs the 
 agony of eternal separation to be completely itself, and 
 yet at the touch of the routine of married life dribbles 
 away; which triumphs over death and absence by the 
 power of spiritual vision, and yet boggles and blunders 
 ptirblind in the management of a home ! 
 
 These ideas were already simmering in Ibsen's mind 
 in 1858, a year after his arrival at Christiania. For the 
 present, however, nothing canfe of them; his own happy 
 marriage in the same year not improbably casting a little 
 unphilosophical glamour over the s.tate of married lovers.' 
 But two years later he wrote four scenes of a comedy, in 
 prose, Svanhild, which presents nearly all the motives of 
 the corresponding part of the complete play (the first forty 
 pages of Act I.) in a compact and summary form. Once 
 more the work was put by, and two years more passed 
 before he again took it up. But then, in 1862, he threw 
 himself upon it with exuberant energy, entirely rewrote 
 the fragment, and carried it through with unflagging verve 
 to the end. A French critic has called it "a lyric satur- 
 nalia," "a debauch of gaiety"; and if it is sometimes 
 only his personages who are gay, not the poet, yet none of 
 
 ' His wife however entered into his ideas; when the storm broke, 
 after the publication of the play, she was, he afterwards wrote, the 
 one person who approved it. 
 
298 LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
 his plays gives us a more vivid sense of having been writ- 
 ten with sustained delight. 
 
 The secret of this swift and effortless execution of the 
 purpose he had so long dallied with lay in great part in 
 his having found a thoroughly congenial form. In prose 
 Ibsen was still laborious and uncertain; the masterly free- 
 dom he later achieved in it, but hardly before the Pillars 
 of Society, was won slowly and at great cost. But in 
 verse he was born free; it was the native language of his 
 mind; in which he could "prance and curvet at will," as 
 he once said to the present writer, like a rider on a horse 
 that knows him. In verse all the exuberance of wit and 
 poetry which his earlier prose thwarted, and his later 
 sternly refused, had unstinted play. It was by their ac- 
 complished verse-craft, asfhas been said, that the Danish 
 poets retained his admiration, even when, in Peer Gynt, 
 he was ruthlessly shattering all the academic proprieties 
 of their aesthetics. Prose had, nevertheless, been the 
 predominant form of his drama since early in his Bergen 
 time; he had designed it for this very play. In the Feast 
 at Solhoug (1856) he had been beguiled back into verse, 
 we can hardly doubt, by the charms of Hertz's Danish 
 Svend Dyring's House. And' his adoption of it here has 
 been plausibly ascribed to the impression made upon him 
 by a brilliant piece of contemporary criticism which he is 
 known to have read. Holler's book On French and Dan- 
 ish Comedy (1858), — where the metrical and other excel- 
 lencies of the latter are set in a very persuasive light. 
 
 The mere change from prose to verse thus brought 
 with it a notable eflBorescence of style. How the change 
 told may be illustrated by a few lines from the first pas- 
 
INTRODUCTION 299 
 
 sage of arms between Falk and Guldstad, — the earlier 
 part a moderate, the later an extreme example. In the 
 Svanhild it takes this form: 
 
 Gtild. As for the poetry of your song, let it be as it 
 will : but there's a bad moral running through it. What 
 sort of economy is it to let the sparrow eat the unripe 
 fruit before it comes to anything ? And then to let the 
 cattle loose in the flower garden ? A nice spectacle it 
 would be next spring! 
 
 Falk. Next spring! If you really enjoy the spring, 
 my friend, you will wish for.no other spring than the one 
 you are in.' 
 
 Compare this with Guldstad's speech (p. 314) : 
 ■ As for your song, perhaps it's most poetic," etc., 
 and with Falk's following tirade: 
 
 "Oh, next, next, next!" etc. 
 to 
 
 " And God knows if there's any resting then ? " 
 
 A style so insistently vivacious as that of the later ver- 
 sion was hardly an ideal medium for drama. But Ibsen, 
 with all his joy in it, is its master, not its slave; he bends 
 it to his purpose, and it becomes in his hands a singularly 
 plastic medium of dramatic expression. The marble is 
 too richly veined for ideal sculpture, biit it takes the print 
 of life. The wit, exuberant as it is, does not coruscate 
 indiscriminately upon all lips; and it has many shades 
 and varieties — caustic, ironical, imaginative, playful, pas- 
 
 ' Ibsen, Efterladte Skrifter, I. 452. 3. 
 
300 LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
 sionate — which tak;e their temper from the speaker's 
 mpod. , 
 
 But the development of the prose draft went far be- 
 yond style. Motives there just hinted are expanded into 
 scenes, and the too closely packfed dramatic ideas acquire 
 thei^ due value. The stoning of Svanhild's bird, instead 
 of being told by her, is done before our eyes, and is, more- 
 over, made dramatically expressive as Falk's symbolic 
 vengeance for her supposed betrayal. The persons and 
 their characters are substantially the same; but Stiver, 
 the law clerk, replaces a journalist, and the personality 
 of Svfinhild, the heroine, is immensely strengthened and 
 enriched. The prose Svanhild is little more than a pleas- 
 ant Backfisch; when offended with Falk she will refuse 
 to shake hands with him; but she is quite incapable of 
 the powerful and subtle home thrusts by which the later 
 Svanhild lays bare the Weak places of her lover. Still 
 less could we augur for her the lyrical exaltations of the 
 climax. Yet here lay the essential moment of the whole 
 action. 
 
 For, as will now be obvious. Love's Comedy, with all 
 its exuberant wit and humour, is rooted in a view of 
 life which is not "comic" at all. The laughter that 
 rings through it is not the genial, tolerant laughter of 
 the humourist, for whom the anomalies of life lie on 
 the surface; it is the stern, implacable laughter of a 
 Carlyle. His ridicule of ordinary love-making keeps, in- 
 deed, well within the bounds of ordinary comedy. The 
 ceremonial formalities of the continental Verlobung, the 
 shrill raptures of aunts and cousins over the engaged 
 pair, the satisfied smile of enterprising mater-familias 
 
INTRODUCTION 301 
 
 as she reckons up the tale of daughters or of nieces 
 Safely married off under her auspices; or, again, the 
 embarrassments incident to a prolonged Bravhtand fol- 
 lowing a hasty wooing, the deadly effect of fanliliarity 
 upon a shallow affection, and the anxious efforts to save 
 the appearance of romance when its zest has depatted — 
 even the drastic picture of the Strawmans, Swiftian in its 
 savagery, whose youthful fire has been converted into 
 ashes and smoke by the preoccupations of a fruitful 
 marriage, — all this required only a keen eye for absur- 
 dities, and does not touch the core of Ibsen's play. 
 Camilla CoUett, in her novel the Official's Daughters 
 (1855), had ridiculed the same absurdities in the name 
 of that very marriage for love which Ibsen repudiated. 
 And these Stivers and Jays, these Linds and Annas, seem 
 much less calculated to stand as examples of the fatuity 
 of marrying for love, than as typps of those who marry 
 without understanding what love is at all. The problem 
 of love, as Ibsen the poet and idealist saw it, is not in- 
 volved in their mishaps. The gist of the action lies 
 accordingly in the relations of the three central figures, 
 — Falk, Svanhild, and Guldsfad. All three, though full 
 of dramatic individuality, convey different aspects of 
 Ibsen's own thought. Falk, whose brilliant mockery pil- 
 lories the victims of conventional love-making, himself 
 contributes to the comedy by the fatuous egoism of his 
 own first essay in love. He is a poet, and Ibsen, as so 
 often elsewhere, ridicules in his creation foibles which he 
 knew as passing impulses, or even as vanquished tempta- 
 tions, in himself. But as a poet he also represents Ibsen's 
 poetic and idealist inspiration in all its phases, — ^passing 
 
302 LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
 through the whole gamut from Benedick to Romeo, and 
 finally to the purely Ibsenian super- Romeo who renounces 
 in order to retain. As Falk applies his cautery to the 
 company at large, Svanhild, with greater insight and at 
 least equal spirit, applies hers to him. But she has noth- 
 ing in common with the self-willed "emancipated" Re- 
 bekkas and Hildes of the future. She is rather the em- 
 bodiment of all that Ibsen in these years understood by a 
 high-souled girl's devotion in love. Her vision is as much 
 finer and clearer than Falk's as her heart is richer; she . 
 convinces him of his weakness, and lifts him to the height 
 of his strength. And the renunciation is harder by far 
 for her. He is a poet, and the " song and sun " with which 
 her love has filled him will evidently be no contemptible 
 quid pro quo for its loss. But Svanhild's renunciation, 
 rapturous as it is, is indeed her "last song." She lives 
 in her memories, but she has buried her happiness. " Not 
 at all!" exclaims a choi-us of voices. Dr. Brandes's un- 
 happily among them; "she subsides into the arms of 
 Guldstad, who offers her a maintenance, a peaceful home, 
 and ample means." And the same critics who quarrel 
 with her renunciation as romantically unreal, denounce 
 the act which clinches and completes it as "philistine" 
 and prosaic. But Svanhild does not "console" herself 
 with Guldstad. Doubtless, to have indignantly refused 
 his hand would have been to her advantage with most 
 readers. She makes the more complete surrender of a 
 life devoted to unromantic duty. Having tasted the su- 
 preme poetry of life, she is ready to face its prose. She 
 is, in short, Ibsen's Svanhild, true child of the poet of 
 exalted idealism and of unflinching matter of fact. Quid- 
 
INTRODUCTION 303 
 
 stad, finally, represents exclusively this " unromantic " 
 side of Ibsen. Like Antonio in Goethe's Tasso, he con- 
 fronts, and finally checkmates, the brilliant wayward poet 
 with the calm intelligence and strong sense of the ex- 
 perienced man of the world. And Guldstad is drawn 
 with yet more marked sympathy and respect than An- 
 tonio. He expresses Ibsen's doctrine of marriage, as 
 Falk and Svanhild his doctrine of love. When, therefore, 
 their love, in defiance of both doctrines, is on the point of 
 issuing in marriage, the formidable merchant faces them 
 with the double weight of his experience and of their own 
 past convictions, and becomes immediately ma^ster of 
 the game. But there is no triumph in his success; he 
 takes his prize with tender pity and sympathetic under- 
 standing; and if prose in his person prevails, with Ibsen's 
 full concurrence, over poetry, it is prose conscious that it 
 is but the second best course, a needful accommodation to 
 the world of facts. 
 
 The present version of the play retains the metres of 
 the original, and follows it in general line for line. For a 
 long passage, occupying substantially the first twenty 
 pages, the translator is indebted to the editor of the present 
 work; and two other passages — Falk's tirades on pp. 
 366 and 408— reisult from a fusion of versions made inde- 
 pendently by us both. _, ^ 
 
LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
PERSONS OF THE COMEDY 
 Mrs. Hami, loidow of a government official. 
 
 SVANHILD, 1 7. J I.. ' 
 
 . > her cUmqaters. 
 
 Anna, J " 
 
 Falk, o young avihor, 1 . i . 
 X J- • -J J J \. f her boarders. 
 
 LiND, o dimnity student, J 
 
 GuLDSTAD, o wholesale merchant. 
 
 Stiver, a law-clerk. 
 
 Miss Jay, his fiancie. 
 
 Strawman, a country clergyman. 
 
 Mrs. Strawman, his wife. 
 
 Students, Guests, Married and Plighted Pairs. 
 
 The Strawmans' Eight Little Girls. 
 
 Four Aunts, a Porter, Domestic Servants. 
 
 Scene. — Mrs. Halm's Villa on the Drammensvejen at Chrik- 
 tiania. 
 
LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
 PLAY IN THREE ACTS 
 
 ACT FIRST 
 
 The Scene represents a pretty garden irregularly btU 
 tastefully laid out; in the background are seen the 
 fjord and the islands. . To the left is the house, with 
 a verandah and an open dormer window above; to 
 the right in the foreground an open summer-house 
 with a table and benches. "The landscape lies in 
 bright afternoon sunshine. It is early summer; 
 the fruit-trees are in flower. 
 
 When the Curtain rises, Mbs. Halm, Anna, and Miss 
 Jay are sitting on the verandah, the first two engaged 
 in embroidery, the last with a book. In the summer- 
 house are seen Falk, Lind, Guldstad, and Stiver: 
 a punch-bowl and glasses are on the table. Svan- 
 HiLD sits alone in the background by the water. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Rises, lifts his glass, and sings.] 
 
 Sun-glad day in garden shady 
 
 Was but mad^ for thy delight: 
 What though promises of May-day 
 
 Be annulled by Autumn's blight? 
 307 
 
308 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Apple-blossom white and splendid 
 Drapes thee in its glowing tent, — 
 
 Let it, then, when day is ended. 
 Strew the closes storm-besprent. 
 
 Chohus of Gentlemen. 
 Let it, then, when day is ended, etc. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Wherefore seek the harvest's guerdon 
 
 While the tree is yet in bloom .'' 
 Wherefore drudge beneath the burden 
 
 Of an unaccomplished doom ? 
 Wherefore let the scarecrow clatter 
 
 Day and night upon the tree? 
 Brothers mine, the sparrow's chatter 
 
 Has a cheerier melody. 
 
 Chokus. 
 Brothers mine, the sparrow's chatter, etc. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Happy songster! Wherefore scare him 
 
 From our blossom-laden bower.'' 
 Rather for his music spare him 
 
 All our future, flower by flower; 
 Trust me, 'twill be cheaply buying 
 
 Present song with future fruit; 
 List the proverb, "Tiiiie is flying; — " 
 
 Soon our garden music's mute. 
 
 Chokus. 
 List the proverb, etc. 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 309 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I will live in song and gladness, — 
 
 Then, when every bloom is shed. 
 Sweep together, scarce in sadness, 
 
 AH that glory, wan and dead: 
 Fling the gates wide! Bruise and batter. 
 
 Tear and trample, hoof and tusk; 
 I have plucked the flower, what matter 
 
 Who devours the withered husk! 
 
 Chobus. 
 
 I have plucked the flower, etc. 
 
 [They clink and empty their glasses. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [To the ladies.] 
 
 There — that's the song you asked me for; but pray 
 Be lenient to it — I can't think to-day. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Oh, never mind the sense — the sound's the thing. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Looking round.] 
 
 But Svanhild, who was eagerest to hear — ? 
 When Falk began, she suddenly took wing 
 And vanished — 
 
 Anna. 
 
 [Pointing towards the back.] 
 
 No, for there she sits — I see her. 
 
310 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [Sighing.] 
 
 That child! Heaven knows, she's past my compre- 
 hending! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 But, Mr. Falk, I thought the lyric's ending 
 Was not so rich in — well, in poetry,. 
 As others of the stanzas seemed to be. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Why, yes, and I am sure it could not tax 
 Your powers to get a little more inserted — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Clinking glasses with him.] 
 
 You cram it in, like putty into cracks. 
 Till lean is into streaky fat converted. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Unruffled.] 
 
 Yes, nothing easier — I, too, in my day 
 Could do the trick. ■ 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Dear me! Were you a poet? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 My Stiver! Yes! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Oh, in a humble way. 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 311 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [To the ladies.] 
 His nature is romantic. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Yes, we know it. 
 
 Stiver. 
 Not now; it's ages since I turned a rhyme. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, varnish and romance go off with time. 
 But in the old days — ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Well, you see, 'twas when 
 I was in love. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Is that time over, then ? 
 Have you slept off the sweet intoxication ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 I'm now engage d — I hold official station — 
 That's better than i n 1 o v e , I apprehend ! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Quite so! You're in the right, my good old friend. 
 The worst is past — I'ous voila bien avancz^— ■ 
 Promoted from mere lover to fiance. 
 
312 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [With a smile of complacent recollection.] 
 
 It's strange to think of it — upon my word, 
 I half suspect my memory of lying — 
 
 [Turns to Fxik. 
 But seven years ago — it sounds absurd! — 
 I wasted office hours in versifying. 
 
 Falk. 
 "What! Office hours—! 
 
 Stiver. 
 Yes, such were my transgressions. 
 
 Guldstad. 
 [Ringing on his glass.] 
 Silence for our solicitor's confessions! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 But chiefly after five, when I was free, 
 I'd rattle off whole reams of poetry — 
 Ten — ^fifteen folios ere I went to bed — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I see — ^you gave your Pegasus his head. 
 And off he tore — 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 On stamped or unstamped paper — 
 'Twas all the same to him — he'd prance and caper — 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 313 
 
 Falk. 
 
 The spring of poetry flowed no less flush ? 
 But how, pray, did you teach it first to gush ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 By aid of love's divining-rod, my friend ! 
 Miss Jay it was that taught me where to bore, 
 Mj fiancee — ^she became so in the end — 
 For then she was — 
 
 Falk. 
 Your love and nothing more. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Continuing .1 
 
 'Twas a strange time; I could not read a bit; 
 I tuned my pen instead of 'pointing it; 
 And when along the foolscap sheet it raced, 
 It twangled music to the words I traced; — 
 At last by letter I declared my flame 
 To her — to her — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Whose fiance you became. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 In course of post her answer came to hand 
 The motion granted — judgment in my faA'our! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And you felt bigger, as you wrote, and braver, 
 To find you'd brought your venture safe to land! 
 
314 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Stiver. 
 Of course 
 
 Talk. 
 
 And then you bade the Muse farewell ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 I've felt no lyric impulse, truth to tell. 
 
 From that day forth. My vein appeared to peter 
 
 Entirely out; and now, if I essay 
 
 To turn a verse or two forNew Year's Day, 
 
 I make the veriest hash of rhyme and metre, 
 
 Apd — I've no notion what the cause can be — 
 
 It turns to law and not to poetry. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Clinks glasses with him.] 
 And, trust me, you're no whit the worse for that! 
 
 [To Falk. 
 You think the stream of life is flowing solely 
 To bear you to the goal you're aiming at — 
 But you may find yourself mistaken wholly. 
 As for your song, perhaps it's most poetic. 
 Perhaps it's not— on that point we won't quarrel — 
 But here I lodge a protest energetic. 
 Say what you will, against its wretched moral. 
 A masterly economy and new 
 To let the birds play havoc at their pleasure 
 Among your fruit-trees, fruitless now for you. 
 And suffer flocks and herds to trample through 
 Your garden, and lay waste its springtide treasure! 
 A pretty prospect, truly, for next year! 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 815 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Oh, nejit, next, next! The thought I loathe and 
 
 fear 
 That these four letters timidly express — 
 It beggars millionaires in happiness! 
 If I could be the autocrat of speech 
 But for one hour, that hateful word I'd banish; 
 I'd send it packing out of mortal reach, 
 As B and G from Knudsen's Grammar vanish. 
 
 Stiver. 
 Why should the word of hope enrage you thus? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Because it darkens God's fair earth for us. 
 
 "Next year," "next love," i'next life," — my soul is 
 
 vext 
 To see this world in thraldom to "the next." 
 'Tis this dull forethought, bent on future prizes, 
 That millionaires in gladness pauperises. 
 Far as the eye can reach, it blurs the age; 
 All rapture of the moment it destroys; 
 No one dares taste in peace life's simplest joyS 
 Until he's struggled on another stage— 
 And there arriving, can he there repose ? 
 No — to a new "next" off he flies again; 
 On, on, unresting, to the grave he goes; 
 And God knows if there's any resting then. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Fie, Mr. Falk, such sentiments are shocking. 
 
316 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Anna. 
 
 [Pensively.] 
 
 Oh, I can understand the feeling quite; 
 I am sure at bottom Mr. Falk is right. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Perturbed.] 
 
 My Stiver mustn't listen to his mocking. 
 He's rather too eccentric even now. — 
 My dear, I want you. 
 
 Stiver. 
 [Occupied in cleaning his pipe.] 
 
 Presently, my dear. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [To Falk.] 
 
 One thing at least to me is very clear; — 
 And that is that you cannot but allow 
 Some forethought indispensable. For see, 
 Silppose that you to-day should write a sonnet, 
 Ahd, scorning forethought, you should lavish on it 
 Your last reserve, your all, of poetry, 
 So that, to-morrow, when you set about 
 Your next song, you should find yourself cleaned out. 
 Heavens! how your friends the critics then would 
 crow! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 D'you think they'd notice I was bankrupt? No! 
 Once beggared of ideas, I and they 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 317 
 
 Would saunter arm in arm the selfsame way — 
 
 [Breaking off. 
 But Lind ! why, what's the matter with you, pray ? 
 You sit there dumb and dreaming — I suspect you're 
 Deep in the mysteries of architecture. 
 
 Lind. 
 
 [Collecting himself.] 
 I ? What should make you think so ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I observe. 
 Your eyes are glued to the verandah yonder — 
 You're studying, mayhap, its arches' curve. 
 Or can it be its pillars' strength you ponder. 
 The door p)erhaps, with hammered iron hinges? 
 The window blinds, and their artistic fringes? 
 From something there your glances never wander. 
 
 Lind. 
 
 No, you are wrong — I'm just absorbed in being — 
 Drunk with the hour — naught craving, naught fore- 
 seeing. 
 I feel as though I stood, my life complete. 
 With all earth's riches scattered at, my feet. 
 Thanks for your song of happiness and spring — 
 From out my inmost heart it seemed to spring. 
 
 [Lifts his glass and exchanges a glance, unob- 
 served, with Anna. 
 Here's to the blossom in its fragrant pride! 
 What reck we of the fruit of autumn-tide ? 
 
 [Empties his glass. 
 
318 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Looks at him with surprise and emotion, but assumes a 
 
 -.,,,.,.,... ., light tone.] 
 
 Behold, fair ladies! though you scorn me quite, 
 
 Her6 I have made an easy proselyte. 
 
 His hymn-book yesterday was all he cared for — 
 
 To-day e'en dithyrambics he's prepared for! 
 
 We poets must be born, cries every judge; 
 
 But prose-folks, now and then, like Strasburg geese. 
 
 Gorge themselves so inhumanly obese 
 
 On rhyming balderdash and rhythmic fudge. 
 
 That, when cleaned" out, their very souls are thick 
 
 With lyric lard and greasy rhetoric. [To Lind. 
 
 Your praise, however, I shall not forget; 
 
 We'll sweep the lyre henceforward in duet. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 You, Mr. Falk, are hard at work, no doubt. 
 
 Here in these rural solitudes delightful. 
 
 Where at your own sweet will you roam about — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 [Smiling.] 
 Oh, no, his laziness is something frightful. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 What! here at Mrs. Halm's! that's most surpris- 
 ing— 
 Surely it's just the place for poetising — 
 
 [Pointing to the right. 
 That summer-house, for instance, in the wood 
 Sequestered, name me any place that could 
 Be more conducive to poetic mood — 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 319 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Let blindness veil the sunlight from mine eyes 
 I'll chant the splendour of the sunlit skies! 
 Just for a season let me beg or borrow 
 A great, a crushing, a stupendous sorrow. 
 And soon you'll hear my hymns of gladness rise! 
 But best. Miss Jay, to nerve my wings for flight. 
 Find me a maid to be my life, my light — 
 For that incitement long to Heaven I've pleaded; 
 But hitherto, worse luck, it hasn't heeded. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 What levity! 
 
 Mhs. Halm. 
 
 Yes, most irreverent! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Pray don't imagine it was my intent 
 
 To liye with her on bread and cheese and kisses. 
 
 No! just upon the threshold of our blisses. 
 
 Kind Heaven must snatch away the gift it lent. 
 
 I need a little spiritual gymnastic; 
 
 The dose in that form surely would be drastic. 
 
 SVANHILD 
 
 [Has during the talk approached; she stands close to 
 the table, and says in a determined but whimsical 
 tone: 
 
 I'll pray that such may be your destiny. 
 But, when it finds you — bear it like a man. 
 
320 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Turning round in surprise.] 
 
 Miss Svanhild! — well, I'll do the best I can. 
 But think you I may trust implicitly 
 To finding your petitions efficacious ? 
 Heaven, as you know, to faith alone is gracious — 
 And though you've doubtless will enough for two 
 To make me bid my peace of mind adieu, 
 Have you the faith to carry matters through ? 
 That is the question. 
 
 Svanhild. 
 [Half in jest.] 
 
 Wait till sorrow comes. 
 And all your being's springtide chills and numbs. 
 Wait till it gnaws and rends you, soon and late, 
 Then tell me if my faith is adequate. 
 
 [She goes across to the ladies. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [Aside to her.] 
 Can you two never be at peace ? you've made 
 Poor Mr. Falk quite angry I'm afraid. 
 
 [Continues reprovingly in a low voice. Miss 
 Jay joins in the conversation. Svanhild 
 remains cold and silent. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [After a pause of reflection goes over to the summer-house, 
 then to himself.] 
 With fullest confidence her glances lightened. 
 Shall I believe, as she does so securely, 
 That Heaven intends — 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 321 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 No, hang it! don't be frightened! 
 The powers above would be demented surely 
 To give effect to orders such as these. 
 No, my good sir — the cure for your disease 
 Is exercise for muscle, nerve and sinew. 
 Don't lie there wasting all the grit that's in you 
 In idle dreams; cut wood, if that were all; 
 And then I'll say the devil's in't indeed 
 If one brief fortnight does not find you freed 
 From all your whimsies high-fantastical. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Fetter'd by choice, like Burnell's ass, I ponder — 
 The flesh on this side, and the spirit yonder. 
 Which were it wiser I should go for first? 
 
 GuLDSTADt 
 
 [Filling the glasses.] 
 First have some punch — that quenches ire and thirst. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [Looking at her watch.] 
 
 Ha! Eight o'clock! my watch is "either fast, or 
 It's just the time we may expect the Pastor. 
 
 [Rises, and puts things in order on the verandah. 
 
 Falk. 
 What ! have we parsons coming ? * 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Don't you know ? 
 
322 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Mbs. Halm. 
 I told you, just a little while ago — 
 
 Anna. 
 V No, mother — Mr. Falk had not yet come. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Why no, that's true; but pray don't look so glum. 
 Trust me, you'll be enchanted with his visit. 
 
 Falk. 
 A clerical enchanter; pray who is it ? 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 Why, Pastor Strawman, not unknown to fame. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Indeed! Oh, yes, I think I've heard his name. 
 
 And read' that in the legislative game 
 
 He comes to take a hand, with voice and vote. 
 
 Stiver. 
 He speaks superbly. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 When he's cleared his throat. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 He's coming with his wife — 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 823 
 
 Mhs. Halm. 
 
 And all their blessings — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 To give them three or four days' treat, poor dears — 
 
 Soon he'll be buried over head and ears 
 
 In Swedish muddles and official messings — 
 
 I see! 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [To Falk.] 
 
 Now there's a man for you, in truth ! 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 They say he was a rogue, though, in his youth. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Offended.] 
 
 There, Mr. Guldstad, I must break a lance! 
 I've heard as long as I can recollect. 
 Most worthy people speak with great respect 
 Of Pastor Strawman and his life's romance. 
 
 Guldstad. 
 
 [Laughing.] 
 Romance ? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Romance! I call a match romantic 
 At which mere worldly wisdom looks askance. 
 
 Falk 
 You make my curiosity gigantic. 
 
LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Continuing.] 
 
 But certain people always grow splenetic — 
 Why, goodness knows — at everything pathetic. 
 And scoff it down. We all know how, of late. 
 An unfledged, upstart undergraduate 
 Presumed with brazen insolence, to declare 
 That "William Russell"' was a poor affair! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 But what has this to do with Strawman, pray ? 
 Is he a poem, or a Christian play ? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [With tears of emotion.] 
 
 No, Falk, — a man, with heart as large as day. 
 But when a — so to speak — mere lifeless thing 
 Can put such venom into envy's sting, 
 And stir up evil passions fierce and fell 
 Of such a depth — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Sympathetically .] 
 
 And such a length as well — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Why then, a man of your commanding brain 
 Can't fail to see — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Oh, yes, that's very plain. 
 But hitherto I haven't quite made out 
 The nature, style, and plot of this romance. 
 ' See Notes, page 483. 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 325 
 
 It's something quite delightful I've no doubt — 
 But just a little inkling in advance — 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 I will abstract, in rapid resume. 
 The leading points. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 No, I am more au fait, 
 I know the ins and outs — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 I know them too! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Oh Mrs. Halm! now let me tell it, do! 
 Well, Mr. Falk, you see — h» passed at college 
 For quite a miracle of wit and knowledge, 
 Had admirable taste in books and dress — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 And acted — privately — with great success. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Yes, wait a bit — he painted, played and w^rote — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 And don't forget his gift of anecdote . 
 
 Miss Jay 
 
 Do give me time; I know the whole affair: 
 He made some verses, set them to an air. 
 
326 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Also his own, — and found a publisher. 
 
 O Heavens! with what romantic melancholy 
 
 He played and sang his "Madrigals to Molly"! 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 He was a genius, that's the simple fact. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [To himself.] 
 Hm! Some were of opinion he was cracked. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 A gray old stager,* whose sagacious head 
 
 Was never upon mouldy parchments fed, 
 
 Says "Love makes Petrarchs, just as many lambs 
 
 And little occupation, Abrahams." 
 
 But who was Molly? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Molly ? His elect. 
 His lady-love, whom shortly we expect. 
 Of a great firm her father was a member — 
 
 A timber house. 
 
 Guldstad. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Curtly.] 
 I'm really not aware. 
 
 Guldstad. 
 
 Did a large trade in scantlings, I remember. 
 ' See Notes, page 483. 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 327 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 That is the trivial side of the affair. 
 
 Falk. 
 A firm? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Continuing.] 
 
 Of vast resources, I'm informed. 
 You can imagine how the suitors swarm'd; 
 Gentlemen of the highest reputation. — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 Even a baronet made application. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 But Molly was not to be mgde their catch. 
 She had met Strawman upon private stages; 
 To see him was to love him — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And despatch 
 The wooing gentry home without their wages ? 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 Was it not just a too romantic match? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 And then there was a terrible old father, 
 Whose sport was thrusting happy souls apart; 
 She had a guardian also, as I gather, 
 To add fresh torment to her tortured heart. 
 
328 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 But each of them was loyal to his vow; 
 
 A straw-thatched cottage and a snow-white ewe 
 
 They dream'd of, just enough to nourish two — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 Or at the rery uttermost a cow, — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 In short, I've heard it from the lips of both, — 
 A beck, a byre, two bosoms, and one troth. 
 
 Falk. 
 Ah yes ! And then— ? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 She broke with kin and class. 
 
 She broke — ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 Broke with them. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 There's a plucky laas! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 And fled to Strawman's garret — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 How ? Without — 
 Ahem^the priestly consecration? ^ 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 329 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Shame! 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Fy, fy! my late beloved husband's name 
 Was on the list of sponsors — ! 
 
 Stiver. 
 [To Miss Jay.] 
 
 You're to blame 
 For leaving that important item out. 
 In a feport 'tis of the utmost weight 
 That the chronology be accurate. 
 But What I never yet could comprehend 
 Is how on earth they managed — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 The one room 
 Not housing sheep and cattlft, I presuine. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [To Stiver.] 
 
 O, but you must consider this, my friend; 
 There is no Want where Love's the guiding star; 
 All's right without if tender Troth's within. 
 
 [To Falk. 
 He loved her to the notes of the guitar, 
 And she gave lessons on the violin — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 Then all, of course, on credit they bespoke — 
 
 Guldstad. 
 Till, in a year, the timber merchant broke. 
 
330 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Mhs. Halm. 
 Then Strawman had a>call to north. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 And there 
 Vowed, in a letter that I saw (as few did), 
 He lived but for his duty, and for her. 
 
 Falk. 
 [As if completing her statement.] 
 And with those words his Life's Romance concluded. 
 
 Mbs. Halm. 
 
 [Rising.] 
 
 How if we should go out upon the lawn. 
 And see if there's no prospect of them yet ? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Drawing on her mantle.] 
 
 It's cool already. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Svanhild, will you get 
 My woollen shawl ? — Come ladies, pray! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [To Anna, unobserved by the others.] 
 
 Go on! 
 [Svanhild goes into the house; the others, except 
 Falk, go towards the back and out to the left 
 LiND, who has followed, stops and returns. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 My friend ! 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 331 
 
 Falk. 
 Ah, ditto. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Falk, your hand ! The tide 
 Of joy's so vehement, it will perforce 
 Break out — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Hullo there; you must first be tried; 
 Sentence and hanging follow in due course. 
 Now, what on earth's the matter? To conceal 
 From me, your friend, this treasure of your finding; 
 For you'll confess the inference is binding: 
 You've come into a prize off Fortune's wheel! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 I'vp snared and taken Forttine's blessed bird! 
 
 Falk. 
 How ? Living, — and undamaged by the steel ? 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Patience; I'll tell the matter in one word. 
 I am engaged! Conceive — ! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Quickly.] 
 
 Engaged ! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 It's true. 
 To-day,— with unimagined courage swelling, 
 I said, — ahem, it will not bear re-telling; — 
 
332 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 But only think, — the sweet young maiden grew 
 Quite rosy-red, — but not at all enraged! 
 You see, Fdlk, what I ventured for a bride! 
 She listened, — and I rather think she cried; 
 That, sure, means "Yes"? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 If precedents decide; 
 (jo on. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 And so we really aije — engaged? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I should conclude so; but the only way 
 To be quite certain, is to ask Miss Jay. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 O no, I feel so confident, so clear! 
 So perfectly assured, and void of fear. 
 
 [Radiarttly, in a Tnysterious tone. 
 Hark! I had leave her fingers to caress 
 When from the coffee-board she drew the cover. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Lifting and emptying his glass.] 
 Well, flowers of spring your wedding garland dress! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Doing the same.] 
 
 And here I swear by heaven that I will love her 
 
 Until I die, with love as infinite 
 
 As now glows in me, — for she is so sweet! 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Engaged! Aha, so that was why you flung 
 The Holy Law and Prophets on the shelf! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Laughing.] 
 And you believed it was the song you sung — ! 
 
 Falk. 
 A poet believes all things of himself. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Seriously.] 
 
 Don't think, however, Falk, that I dismiss 
 The theologian from my hour of bliss. 
 Only, I find the Book wilFnot suffice 
 As Jacob's ladder unto Paradise. 
 I must into God's world, and seek Him there. 
 A boundless kindness in my heart upsprings, , 
 I love the straw, I love the creeping things; 
 They also in my joy shall have a share. 
 
 Falk. 
 Yes, only tell me this, though — 
 
 LiND. 
 
 I have told it, — 
 My precious secret, and our three hearts hold it! 
 
 Falk. 
 But have you thought about the future ? 
 
334 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Thought ? 
 I? — thought about the future? No, from this 
 Time forth I live but in the hour that is. 
 In home shall all my happiness be sought; 
 We hold Fate's reins, we drive her hither, thither. 
 And neither friend nor mother shall have right 
 To say unto my budding blossom: Wither! 
 For I am earnest and her eyes are bright. 
 And so it must unfold into the light! 
 
 Falk. 
 Yes, Fortune likes you, you will serve her turn! 
 
 V LiND. 
 
 My spirits like wild music glow and burn; 
 I feel myself a Titan: though a foss 
 Opened before me— I would leap across! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Your love, you mean to say, in simple prose. 
 Has made a reindeer of you. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Well, suppose; 
 But in my wildeist flight, 1 know the nest 
 In which my heart's dove longs to be at rest! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Well then, to-morrow it may fly con brio; 
 You're off into the hills with the quartette. 
 I'll guarantee you against cold and wet — 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 335 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Pooh, the quartette may go and climb in trio. 
 The lowly dale has m!ountain air for me; 
 Here I've the immeasurable fjord, the flowers. 
 Here I have warbling birds and choral bowers. 
 And lady Fortune's self, — for here is she! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Ah, lady Fortune by our Northern water 
 Is rara avis, — hold her if you've caught her! 
 
 [With a glance towards the house. 
 Hist — Svanhild — 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Well; I go, — disclose to none 
 The secret that we share alone with one. 
 'Twas good of you to listen: now enfold it 
 Deep in your heart, — warm, .glowing, as I told it. 
 [He goes out in the background to the others. 
 Falk looks after him a moment, and paces 
 up and down in the garden, visibly striving 
 to master his agitation. Presently Svanhild 
 comes out viith a shawl on her arm, and is 
 going towards the back. Falk approaches 
 and gazes at her fixedly. Svanhild stops. 
 
 Svanhild. 
 [After a short pause.] 
 You gaze so at me ? 
 
 Falk. 
 [Half to himself.] 
 
 Yes, 'tis there — the same; 
 The shadow in her eyes' deep mirror sleeping. 
 
336 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 The roguish elf about her lips a-peeping. 
 It i s there. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 What ? You frighten me. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Your name 
 Is Svanhild ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Yes, you know it very well. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 But do y o u know the name is laughable ? 
 I beg you to discard it from to-night! 
 
 Svanhild. 
 That would be far beyond a daughter's right — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Laughing.] 
 
 Hm. "Svanhild! Svanhild!" 
 
 [With sudden gravity. 
 With your earliest breath 
 How came you by this prophecy of death ? 
 
 Svanhild. 
 Is it so grim ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No, lovely as a song, 
 But for our age too great and stern and strong. 
 How can a modern demoiselle fill out 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 337 
 
 The ideal that heroic name expresses? 
 
 No, no, discard it with your outworn dresses. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 You mean the mythical princess, no doubt — 
 
 Falk. 
 Who, guiltless, died beneath the horse's feet. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 But now such acts are clearly obsolete. 
 
 No, no, I'll mount his saddle! There's my place! 
 
 How often have I dreamt,, in pensive ease, 
 
 He bore me, buoyant, through the world apace. 
 
 His mane a flag of freedom in the breeze! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, the old tale. In "pensive ease" no mortal 
 Is stopped by thwarting bar or cullis'd portal; 
 Fearless we cleave the ether without bound; 
 In practice, tho', we shrewdly hug the ground; 
 For all love life and, having choice, will choose it; 
 And no man dares to leap where he may lose it. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Yes! show me but the end, I'll spurn the shore; 
 But let the end be worth the' leaping for! 
 A Ballarat beyond the desert sands — 
 Else each will stay exactly where he stands. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Sarcastically.] 
 I grasp the case; — the due conditions fail. 
 
838 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Eagerly.] 
 
 Exactly: what's the use of spreading sail 
 When there is not a breath of wind astir? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Ironically.] 
 
 Yes, what's the use of plying whip and spur 
 When there is not a penny of reward 
 For him who tears him from the festal board, 
 And mounts, and dashes headlong to perdition? 
 Such doing for the deed's sake asks a knight. 
 And knighthood's now an idle superstition. 
 That was your meaning, possibly? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Quite right. 
 Look at that fruit-tree in the orchard close, — 
 No blossom on its barren branches blows. 
 You should have seen last year with what brave airs 
 It staggered underneath its world of pears. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Uncertain.] 
 No doubt, but what's the moral you impute ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [With finesse.] 
 
 p O, among other things, the bold unreason 
 Of modern Zacharies who seek for fruit. 
 If the tree blossom 'd to excess last season. 
 You must not crave the blossoms back in this. 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I knew you'd find your footing in the ways 
 Of old Romance. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Yes, modern virtue is 
 Of quite another stamp. Who now arrays 
 Himself to battle for the truth ? Who'll stake 
 His life and person fearless for truth's sake ? 
 Where is the hero ? 
 
 Falk. 
 [Looking keenly at her.] 
 
 Where is the Valkyria? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Shaking her haad.] 
 
 Valkyrias find no market in this land! 
 When the faith lately was assailed in Syria, 
 Did y o u go out with the crusader-band ? 
 No, but on paper you were warm and willing, — 
 And sent the "Clerical Gazette" a shilling. 
 
 [Pause. Falk is about to retort, but checks him- 
 self, and goes into the garden. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [After watching him a moment, approaches him and asks 
 gently:] 
 Falk, are you angry ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No, I only brood, — 
 
340 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [With thoughtful sympathy.] 
 
 You seem to be two natures, still at feud, — 
 Unreconciled — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I know it well. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Impetu/jusly.] 
 
 But why ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Losing self-control.] 
 
 Why, why ? Because I hate to go about 
 With soul bared boldly to the vulgar eye, 
 As Jock and Jennie hang their passions out; 
 To wear my glowing heart upon my sleeve. 
 Like women in low dresses. You, alone, 
 Svanhild, you only, — you, I did believe, — 
 Well, it is past, that dream, for ever flown. — ' 
 [She goes to the summer-house and looks out; 
 he follows. 
 You listen — ? 
 
 Svanhild. 
 
 To another voice, that sings. 
 Hark! every evening when the sun's at rest, 
 A little bird floats hither on beating wings, — 
 See there — it darted from its leafy nest — 
 And, do you know, it is my faith, — as oft 
 As God makes any songless soul. He sends 
 A little bird to be her friend of friends, 
 And sing for ever in her garden-croft. 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 341 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Picking up a stone.] 
 
 Then must -the owner and the bird be near, 
 Or its song's squandered on a stranger's ear. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Yes, that is true; but I've discovered mine. 
 Of speech and song I am denied the power. 
 But when it warbles in its leafy bower. 
 Poems flow in upon my brain like wine — 
 Ah, yes, — they fleet — they are not to be won — 
 
 [Falk throws the stone. Svanhild screams. 
 O God, you've hit it! Ah, what have you done! 
 [She hurries out to the right and then quickly 
 
 returns. 
 
 pity! pity! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [In passionate agitation."] 
 
 No, — but eye for eye, 
 Svanhild, and tooth for tooth. Now you'll attend 
 No further greetings from your garden-friend. 
 No guerdon from the land of melody. 
 That is my vengeance: as you slew, I slay. 
 
 Svanhild. 
 
 1 slew ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You slew. Until this very day, 
 A clear- voiced song-bird warbled in my soul; 
 See, — now one passing bell for both may toll — 
 You've killed it! 
 
342 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Have I ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, for -you have slain 
 My young, high-hearted, joyous exultation — 
 
 [Contemptuously. 
 By your betrothal ! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 How! But pray, explain — ! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 O, it's in full accord with expectation; 
 
 He gets his licence, enters orders, speeds to 
 
 A post, — as missionary in the West — 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [In the same tone.] 
 
 A pretty penny, also, he succeeds to; — 
 For it is Lind you speak of — ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You know best 
 Of whom I speak. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [With a subdued smile.] 
 
 As the bride's sister, true, 
 I cannot help — 
 
 Fai^. 
 
 Great God ! It is not you— ? 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 343 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Who win this overplus of bliss? Ah no! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [With almost childish joy.] 
 
 It is not you ! O God be glorified ! 
 What love, what mercy does He not bestow! 
 I shall not see you as another's bride; — 
 'Twas but the fire of pain He bade me bear — 
 
 [Tries to seize her hand. 
 O hear me, Svanhild, hear me then — 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Pointing quickly to the background.] 
 
 See there! 
 [She goes towards the house. At the same 
 moment Mrs. Halm? Anna, Miss Jay, 
 GuLDSTAD, Stiver, and Lind emerge from 
 the background. During the previous scene 
 the sun has set; it is now dark. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [To Svanhild.] 
 
 The Strawmans may be momently expected 
 Where have you been ? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [After glancing at Falk.] 
 
 Your colour's very high. 
 
 Svanhild. 
 A little face-ache; it will soon pass by. 
 
344 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 And yet you walk at nightfall unprotected ? 
 Arrange the room, and see that tea is ready; 
 Let everything be nice; I know the lady. 
 
 [SvANHiLD goeg in. 
 Stiver. 
 [To Falk.] • 
 What is the colour of this parson's coat? 
 
 Falk. 
 I guess bread-taxers would not catch his vote. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 How if one made allusion to the store 
 Of verses, yet unpublished, in my drawer ? 
 
 Falk. 
 It might do something. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Would to heaven it might! 
 Our wedding's imminent; our purses light. 
 Courtship's a very serious affair. 
 
 Falk. 
 Just so: " Qu'allais-tu faire dans cette gaUre?" 
 
 Stiver. 
 Is courtship a "galore?" 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No, married lives; — 
 All servitude, captivity, and gyves. 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 345 
 
 Stiveb. 
 
 [Seeing Miss Jay approcich.] 
 
 You little know what wealth a man obtains 
 From woman's eloquence and woman's brains. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Aside to Stiver.] 
 Will Guldstad give us credit, think you? 
 
 Stiveb. 
 
 [Peevishly.] 
 
 I 
 Am not quite certain of it yet: I'll try. 
 
 [They withdraw in conversation; Lind and 
 Anna approach. 
 
 Lind. 
 
 [Aside to Falk.] 
 
 I can't endure it longer; in post-haste 
 I must present her — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You had best refrain. 
 And not initiate the eye profane 
 Into your mysteries — 
 
 Lind. 
 
 That would be a jest! — 
 From you, my fellow-boarder, and my mate. 
 To keep concealed my new-found happy state! 
 Nay, now, my head with Fortune's oil anointed — • 
 
846 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You think the occasion good to get it curled? 
 Well, my good friend, you won't be disappointed; 
 Go and announce your union to the world ! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Other reflections also weigh with me. 
 
 And one of more especial gravity; 
 
 Say that there lurked among our motley band 
 
 Some sneaking, sly, pretender to her hand; 
 
 Say, his attentions became undisguised, ^ — 
 
 We should be disagreeably compromised. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, it is true; it had escaped my mind. 
 
 You for a higher office were designed. 
 
 Love as his young licentiate has retained you; 
 
 Shortly you'll get a permanent position; 
 
 But it would be defying all tradition 
 
 If at the present moment he ordained you. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Yes if the merchant does not — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 What of him ? 
 
 Anna. 
 
 . [Troubled.] 
 
 Oh, it is Lind's unreasonable whim. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Hush; I've a deep foreboding that the man 
 Will rob me of my treasure, if he can. 
 
ACT r] LOVE'S COMEDY 347 
 
 The fellow, as we know, comes daily doWn, 
 Is rich, unmarried, takes you round the town; 
 In short, my own, regard it as we will. 
 There are a thousand things that bode us ill. 
 
 Anna. 
 [Sighing.] 
 Oh, it's too bad; to-day was so delicious. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Sympathetically to Lind.] 
 
 Don't wreck your joy, unfoundedly suspicious. 
 Don't hoist your flag till time the truth disclose — 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Great God! Miss Jay is looking; hush, be still! 
 [She and Lind withdraw in different directions. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Looking after Lind.] 
 So to the ruin of his youth he goes. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Who has meantime been conversing on the steps with 
 Mrs. Halm and Miss Jay, approaches Falk and 
 slaps him on the shoulder. 
 
 Well, brooding on a poem ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No, a play. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 The deuce; — I never heard it was your line. 
 
348 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Falk. 
 
 O no, the author is a friend of mine. 
 And your acquaintance also, I daresay. 
 The knave's a dashing writer, never doubt. 
 Only imagine, in a single d£ly 
 He's worked a perfect little Idyll out. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [smy.] 
 
 With happy ending, doubtless ! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You're aware. 
 No curtain falls but on a plighted pair. 
 Thus with the Trilogy's First Part we've reckoned; 
 But now the poet's labour- throes begin; 
 The Comedy of Troth-plight, Part the Second, 
 Thro' five insipid Acts he has to spin, 
 And of that staple, finally, compose 
 Part Third, — or Wedlock's Tragedy, in prose. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Smiling.] 
 The poet's vein is catching, it would s6em. 
 
 Falk. 
 Really ? How so, pray ? 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 Since I also pore 
 And ponder over a poetic scheme, — 
 
 [Mysteriously. 
 An actuality — and not a dream. 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 349 
 
 Falk. 
 And pray, who is the hero of your theme ? 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 I'll tell you that to-morrow — not before. 
 
 Falk. 
 It is yourself! 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 You think me equal to it ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I'm sure no other mortal man could do it. 
 
 But then the heroine? No city maid, 
 
 I'll swear, but of the country, breathing balm ? 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Lifting his finger.] 
 
 Ah, — that's the point, and must not be betrayed! — 
 
 [Changing his tone. 
 Pray tell me your opinion of Miss Halm. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 O you're best able to pronounce upon her; 
 My voice can neither credit nor dishonour, — 
 
 [Smiling. 
 But just take care no mischief-maker blot 
 This fine poetic scheme of which you talk. 
 Suppose I were so shameless as to balk 
 The meditated climax of the plot? 
 
350 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Good-naturedly.] 
 Well, I would cry "Amen," and change my plan. 
 
 Falk. 
 What! 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Why, you see, you are a letter'd man; 
 How monstrous were it if your skill'd design 
 Were ruined by a bungler's hand like mine! 
 
 [Retires to the background. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [In passing, to Lind.] 
 
 Yes, you were right; the merchant's really scheming 
 The ruin of your new-won happiness. 
 
 Lind. 
 
 [Aside to Anna.] 
 
 Now then you see, my doubting was not dreaming; 
 WeUl go this very moment and confess. 
 
 [They approach Mrs. Halm, who is standing 
 with Miss Jay by the house. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Conversing with Stiver.] 
 'Tis a fine evening. 
 
 A man's disposed- 
 
 Stivek. 
 Very likely, — when 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 351 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Facetiously.] 
 
 What, all not running smooth 
 In true love's course ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Not that exactly — 
 
 Falk. 
 [Coming up.] 
 
 Then 
 With your engagement ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 That's about the truth. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Hurrah! Your spendthrift pocket has a groat 
 Or two still left, it seems, of poetry. 
 
 Stiver. 
 [Stiffly.] 
 
 I cannot see what poetry has got 
 
 To do with my engagement, or with me. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You are not meant to see; when lovers prove i 
 What love is, all is over with their love. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [To Stiver.] 
 
 But if there's matter for adjustment, pray 
 Let's hear it. 
 
352 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 I've been pondering all day 
 Whether the thing is proper to disclose, 
 But still the Ayes are balanced by the Noes. 
 
 Falk. 
 I'll right you in one sentence. Ever since 
 As plighted lover you were first installed, 
 You've felt yourself, if I may say so, galled — 
 
 Stiver. 
 And sometimes to the quick. 
 
 Falk.. 
 
 You've had to wince 
 Beneath a crushing load of obligations 
 That you'd send packing, if good form permitted. 
 That's what's the matter. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Monstrous accusations! 
 My legal debts I've honestly acquitted; 
 But other bonds next month are falling due; 
 
 [To GULDSTAD. 
 
 When a man weds, you see, he gets a wife — 
 
 Falk. 
 [Triumphant.] 
 
 Now your youth's heaven once again is blue. 
 There rang an echo from your old song-life! 
 That's how it is: I read you thro' and thro'; 
 Wings, wings were all you wanted, — and a knife! 
 
 Stiver. 
 A knife ? 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 353 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, Resolution's knife, to sever 
 Each captive bond, and set you free for ever, 
 To soar — 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Angrily.] 
 
 Nay, now you're insolent beyond 
 Endurance! Me to charge with violation 
 Of law, — me, me with plotting to abscond! 
 It's libellous, malicious defamation. 
 Insult and calumny — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Are you insane? 
 What is all this about ? Explain ! Explain I 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Laughingly to Stiver.] 
 
 Yes, clear your mind of all this balderdash! 
 What do you want ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 [Pulling himself together.] 
 
 A trifling loan in cash. 
 
 Falk. 
 A loan! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Hurriedly to Guldstad.] 
 
 That is, I mean to say, you know, 
 A voucher for a ten pound note, or so. 
 
354 LOVE'S COMEDY [act t 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [To LiND and Anna.] 
 I wish you joy! How lovely, how delicious! 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Going up to the ladies.] 
 
 Pray what has happened ? 
 
 [To himsdf.] 
 
 This was unpropitiouS. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Throws his arms about Stiver's neck.] 
 
 Hurrah! the trumpet's dulcet notes proclaim 
 A brother born to you in Amor's name! 
 
 [Drags him to the others. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [To the gentlemen.] 
 
 Think ! Lind and Anna — think ! — have plighted 
 
 hearts, 
 Affianced lovers! 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [With tears of emotion.] 
 
 'Tis the eighth in order 
 Who well-provided from this house departs; 
 
 [To Falk. 
 Seven nieces wedded — always with a boarder — 
 
 [Is overcome; presses her handkerchief to her 
 eyes. 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 355 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [To Anna.] 
 
 Well, there will come a flood of gratulation! 
 
 [Caresses her with emotion. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Seizing Falk's hand.] 
 My friend, I walk in rapt intoxication: 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Hold! As a plighted man you are a member 
 Of Rapture's Temperance-association. 
 Observe its rules; — no orgies here, remember! 
 
 [Turning to Guldstad sympathetically. 
 
 Well, my good sir! 
 
 Guldstad. 
 
 [Beaming with pleasure.] 
 
 I think this promises 
 All happiness for both. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Staring at him.] 
 
 You seem to stand 
 The shock with exemplary self-command. 
 That's well. 
 
 Guldstad. 
 What do you mean, sir ? 
 
356 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Only this; 
 That inasmuch as you appeared to feed 
 Fond expectations of your own — 
 
 GtJLDSTAD. 
 
 Indeed ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 At any rate, you were upon the scent. 
 
 You named Miss Halm; you stood upon this spot 
 
 And asked me — 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Smiling.] 
 There are two, though, are there not ? 
 
 Falk. 
 It was — the other sister that you meant? 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 Th^t sister, ye^, the other one, — just so. 
 Judge for yourself, when you have come to know 
 That sister better, if she has not in her 
 Merits which, if they were divined, would win her 
 A little more regard than we bestow. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Coldly.] 
 
 Her virtues are of every known variety 
 I'm sure. 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 357 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Not quite; the accent of society 
 She cannot hit exactly; there she loses. 
 
 Falk. 
 A grievous fault. 
 
 Gtjldstad. 
 
 But if her mother chooses 
 To spend a winter on her, she'll come out of it 
 Queen of them all, I'll wager. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Not a doubt of it. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Laughing.] 
 Young women are odd creatures, to be sure! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Gaily.] 
 
 Like winter rye-seed, canopied secure 
 By frost and snow, invisibly they sprout. 
 
 GULBSTAD. 
 
 Then in the festive ball-room bedded out — 
 
 Falk. 
 With equivoque and scandal for manure — 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 And when the April sun shines — 
 
$5S LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Falk. 
 
 There the blade is; 
 The seed shot up in mannikin green ladies! 
 
 [LiND comes up and seizes Falk's hand. 
 
 LlND. 
 
 How well I chose, — past understanding well; — 
 I feel a bliss that nothing can dispel. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 There stands your mistress; tell us, if you can, 
 The right demeanour for a plighted man. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Perturbed.] 
 Tha,t's a third person's business to declare. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Joking.] 
 
 Ill-tempered! This to Anna's ears I'll bear. 
 
 [Goes to the ladies. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Looking after him.] 
 Can such a man be tolerated ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You 
 Mistook his aim, however, — 
 
 LiND. 
 
 And how so ? 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 359 
 
 Palk. 
 It was not Anna that he had in view. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 How, was it Svanhild ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Well, I hardly know. 
 
 [Whimsically. 
 Forgive me, martyr to another's cause! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 What do you mean ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You've read the news to-night ? 
 
 LiND. 
 
 No. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Do so. There 'tis told in black and white 
 Of one who, ill-luck's bitter counsel taking, 
 Had his sound teeth extracted from his jaws 
 Because his cousin-german's teeth were aching. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Looking out to the left.] 
 Here comes the priest ! 
 
 Mks. Halm. ^ 
 
 Now see a man of might! 
 
\ 
 
 360 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Stiver. 
 Five children, six, seven, eight^ — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And, heavens, all recent! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Ugh! it is almost to be called indecent. 
 
 \A carriage has meantime been heard stopping 
 outside to the left. Steawman, his vnfe, and 
 eight little girls, all in travelling dress, enter 
 one by one. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [Advancing to meet them.] 
 Welcome, a hearty welcome! 
 
 Steawman. 
 
 Thank you. 
 
 Mrs. Strawman. 
 
 Is it 
 A party ? 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 No, dear madam, not at all. 
 
 Mrs. Strawman. 
 If we disturb you — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Au contraire, your visit 
 Could in no wise more opportunely fall. 
 My Anna's just engaged. 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 361 
 
 / 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 [Shaking Anna's hand with unction.] 
 
 Ah then, I must 
 Bear witness; — Lo! in wedded Love's presented 
 A treasure such as neither moth nor rust 
 Corrupt — if it be duly supplemented. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 But how delightful that your little maids 
 Should follow you to town. 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Four tender blades 
 We have besides. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 Ah, really ? 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Three of whom 
 Are still too infantine to take to heart 
 A loving father's absence, when I come 
 To town for sessions. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 \To Mrs. Halm, bidding farewell^ 
 Now I must depart 
 
 Mrs. Halm 
 O, it is still so early! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 I must fly 
 To town and spread the news. The Storms, I know, 
 
362 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti 
 
 Go late to rest, they will be up; and oh! 
 How glad the aunts will be! Now, dear, put by 
 Your shyness; for to-morrow a spring-tide 
 Of callers will flow in from every side! 
 
 Mhs. Halm. 
 Well, then, good-night. ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ 
 
 Now friends, what would you say 
 To drinking tea ? 
 
 [To Mbs. Strawman. 
 
 Pray, madam, lead the way. 
 [Mrs. Halm, Strawman, his wife and chil- 
 dren, with GuLDSTAD, LiND, and Anna go 
 into the house. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Taking Stiver's, arm.] 
 
 Now let's be tender! Look how softly floats 
 Queen Luna on her throne o'er lawn and lea! 
 Well, but you are not laoking! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Crossly.] 
 
 Yes, I see; 
 I'm thinking of the promissory notes. 
 
 [They go out to the left. Falk, who has been 
 continuously watching Strawman and his 
 wife, remains behind alone in the garden, 
 it is now dark; the house is lighted up. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 All is as if burnt out; all desolate, dead — ! 
 So thro' the world they wander, two and two; 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 363 
 
 Charred wreckage, like the blackened stems that 
 
 strew 
 The forest when the withering fire is fled. 
 Far as the eye can travel, all is drought, 
 And nowhere peeps one spray of verdure out! 
 
 [SvANHiLD comes out on to the- verandah with a 
 flowering rose-tree which she sets down. 
 Yes one — yes one — ! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Falk, in the dark ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And fearless! 
 Darkness to me is fair, and light is cheerless. 
 But are not you afraid in yonder walls 
 Where the lamp's light on- sallow corpses falls^ 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Shame ! 
 
 Falk. 
 [Looking after Strawman, who appears at the window. 
 He was once so brilliant and so strong; 
 Warred with the world to win his mistress; passed 
 For Custom's doughtiest iconoclast; 
 And poured forth love in paeans of glad song — I 
 Look at him now! In solemn robes arid wraps, 
 A two-legged drama on his own collapse! 
 And she, the limp-skirt slattern, with the shoes 
 Heel-trodden, that squeak and clatter in her traces. 
 This is the winged maid who was his Muse 
 And escort to the kingdom of the graces! 
 Of all that fire this pufl' of smoke's the end I 
 Sic transit gloria amoris, friend. 
 
364 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Yes, it is wretched, wretched past compare. 
 I know of no one's lot that I would share. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Eagerly.] 
 
 Then let us two rise up and bid defiance 
 To this same order Art, not Nature, bred! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Shaking her head.] 
 
 Then were the cause for which we made alliance 
 Ruined, as sure as this is earth we tread. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No, triumph waits upon two souls in unity. 
 
 To Custom's parish-church no more we'll wend, 
 
 Seatholders in the Philistine community. 
 
 See, Personality's one aim and end 
 
 Is to be independent, free and true. 
 
 In that I am not wanting, nor are you. 
 
 A fiery spirit pulses in your veins. 
 
 For thougjits that master, you have words that burn; 
 
 The corslet of convention, that constrains 
 
 The beating hearts of other maids, you spurn. 
 
 The voice that you were born with will not chime to 
 
 The chorus Custom's baton gives the time to. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 And do you think pain has not often pressed 
 Tears from my eyes, and quiet from my breast? 
 I longed to shape my way to my own bent — 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 365 
 
 Falk. 
 "In pensive ease?" 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 O no, 'twas sternly meant. 
 But then the aunts came in with well-intended 
 Advice, the matter must be sifted, weighed^ 
 
 [Coming nearer 
 "In pensive ease," you say; oh no, I made 
 A bold experiment — in art. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Which ended — ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 In failure. I lacked talent for the brush. 
 The thirst for freedom, tho', I could not crush; 
 Cliecked at the easel, it essayed the stage — 
 
 Falk. 
 That plan was shattered also, I engage? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Upon the eldest aunt's suggestion, yes; 
 She much preferred a place as governess — 
 
 Falk. 
 But of all this I never heard a word! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Smiling.] 
 
 No wonder; they took care that none was heard. 
 They trembled at the risk "my future" ran 
 If this were whispered to unmarried Man. 
 
866 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [After gazing a moment at her in meditative sympathy.] 
 
 That such must be your lot I long had guessed. 
 
 When first I met you, I can well recall. 
 
 You seemed to me quite other than the rest. 
 
 Beyond the comprehension of them all. 
 
 They sat at table, — fragrant tea a-brewing. 
 
 And small-talk humming with the tea in tune, 
 
 The young girls blushing and the young men cooing. 
 
 Like pigeons on a sultry afternoon. 
 
 Old maids and matrons volubly averred 
 
 Morality and faith's supreme felicity, 
 
 Young wives were loud in praise of domesticity. 
 
 While you stood lonely like a mateless bird. 
 
 And when at last the gabbling clamour rose 
 
 To a tea-orgy, a debauch of prose. 
 
 You seemed a piece of silver, newly minted. 
 
 Among foul notes and coppers, dulled and dinted. 
 
 You were a coin imported, alien, strange. 
 
 Here valued at another rate of change. 
 
 Not passing current in that babel mart 
 
 Of poetry and butter, cheese and art. 
 
 Then — while Miss Jay in triumph took the field — 
 
 ' SVANHILD. 
 
 [Gravely.] 
 
 Her knight behind her, like a champion bold. 
 His hat upon his elbow, like a shield — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Your mother nodded to your untouched cup: 
 "Drink, Svanhild dear, before your tea grows cold." 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 367 
 
 And then you drank the vapid liquor up, 
 The mawkish brew beloved of young and old. 
 But that name gripped me with a sudden spell; 
 The grim old Volsungs as they fought and fell, 
 With all their faded aeons, seemed to rise 
 In never-ending line before my eyes. 
 In you I saw a Svanhild, like the old,' 
 But fashioned to the modern age's mould. 
 Sick of its hollow warfare is the world ; 
 Its lying banner it would fain have furled; 
 But when the world does evil, its offence ^' 
 Is blotted in the blood of innocence. 
 
 Svanhild. 
 [With gentle irony.] 
 
 I think, at any rate, the fumes of tea 
 Must answer for that direfijl fantasy; 
 But 'tis your least achievement, past dispute. 
 To hestr the spirit speaking, when 'tis mute. 
 
 Falk. 
 [With emotion 
 
 Nay, Svanhild, do not jest: behind your scoflF 
 Tears glitter, — O, I see them plain enough. 
 And I see more: when you to dust are fray'd. 
 And kneaded to a formless lump of clay. 
 Each bungling dilettante's scalpel-blade 
 On you his dull devices shall display. 
 The world usurps the creature of God's hand 
 And sets its image in the place of His, 
 Transforms, enlarges that part, lightens this; 
 And when upon the pedestal you stand 
 ' See Notes, page 483. 
 
368 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Complete, cries out in triumph: "Now she is 
 At last what woman ought to be: Behold, 
 How plastically calm, how marble-cold ! 
 Bathed in the lamplight's soft irradiation. 
 How well in keeping with the decoration!" 
 
 [Passionately seizing her hand. 
 But if you are to die, live first! Come forth 
 With me into the glory of God's earth! 
 Soon, soon the gilded cage will claim its prize. 
 The Lady thrives there, but the Woman dies. 
 And I love nothing but the Woman in you. 
 There, if they will, let others woo and win you. 
 But here, my spring of life began to shoot. 
 Here my Song-tree put forth its firstling fruit; 
 Here I found wings and flight: — Svanhild, I know it. 
 Only be mine, — here I shall grow a poet! 
 
 Svanhild. 
 [In gentle reproof, withdrawing her handl] 
 
 O, why have you betrayed yourself ? How sweet 
 It was when we as friends could freely meet! 
 You should have kept your counsel. Can we stake 
 Our bliss upon a word that we may break? 
 Now you have spoken, all is over. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No! 
 I've pointed to the goal, — now leap with me. 
 My high-souled Svanhild^f you dare, and show 
 That you have heart and courage to be free. 
 
 Svanhild. 
 Be free ? 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 369 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, free, for freedom's all-in-all 
 Is absolutely to fulfil our Call. 
 And you by heaven were destined, I know well. 
 To be my bulwark against beauty's spell. 
 I, like my falcon namesake, have to swing 
 Against the wind, if I would reach the sky! 
 You are the breeze I must be breasted by. 
 You, only you, put vigour in my wing: 
 Be mine, be mine, until the world shall take you. 
 When leaves are falling, then our paths shall part. 
 Sing unto me the treasures of your heart. 
 And for each song another song I'll make you; 
 So may you pass into the lamplit glow 
 Of age, as forests fade without a throe. 
 
 SVANHILD, 
 
 [With suppressed bitterness.] 
 
 I cannot thank you, for your words betray 
 The meaning of your kind solicitude. 
 You eye me as a boy a sallow, good 
 To cut and play the flute on for a day. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, better than to linger in the swamp 
 
 Till autumn choke it with her grey mists damp! 
 
 [Vehemently. 
 You must! you shall! To me you must present 
 What God to you so bountifully lent. 
 I speak in song what you in dreams have meant. 
 See yonder bird I innocently slew. 
 
370 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Her warbling was Song's book of books for you. 
 O, yield your music as she yielded hers! 
 My life shall be that music set to verse! 
 
 SVANHILD. . 
 
 And when you know me, when my songs are flown. 
 And my last requiem chanted from the bough, — 
 What then ? 
 
 Falk. 
 [Observing her.] 
 
 What then ? Ah well, remember now ! 
 [Pointing to the garden. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Gently.] 
 Yes, I remember you can drive a stone. 
 
 Falk. 
 [With a scornful laugh.] 
 
 This is your vaunted soul of freedom therefore! ' 
 All daring, if it had an end to dare for! 
 
 [Vehemently. 
 I've shown you one; now, once for all, your yea 
 Or nay. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 You know the answer I must make you: 
 J never can accept you in your way. 
 
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 371 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Coldly, breaking off.] 
 
 Then there's an end of it; the world may take you! 
 
 [SvANHiLD has silently turned away. She sup- 
 ports her hands upon the verandah railing, 
 and rests her head upon them. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Walks several times up and down, takes a cigar, 
 stops near her and says, after a pause: 
 
 You think the topic of my talk to-night 
 Extremely ludicrous, I should not wonder? 
 
 [Pauses for an answer. Svanhild is silent. 
 
 I'm very conscious that it was a blunder; 
 Sister's and daughter's love alone possess you; 
 Henceforth I'll wear kid gloves when I address you. 
 Sure, so, of being understood aright. 
 
 [Pauses, but as Svanhild remains motionless, 
 he turns and goes towards the right. 
 
 Svanhild. 
 
 [Lifting her head after a brief silence, looking at him and 
 drawing nearer.] 
 
 Now I will recompense your kind intent 
 To save me, with an earnest admonition. 
 That falcon-image gave me sudden vision 
 What your "emancipation" really meant. 
 You said you were the falcon, that must fight 
 Athwart the wind if it would reach the sky, 
 I was the breeze you must be breasted by. 
 Else vain were all your faculty of flight; 
 
372 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 How pitifully mean! How paltry! Nay 
 
 How ludicrous, as you yourself divined! 
 
 That seed, however, fell not by the way, 
 
 But bred another fancy in my mind 
 
 Of a far more illuminating kind. 
 
 You, as I saw it, were no falcon, but 
 
 A tuneful dragon, out of paper cut. 
 
 Whose Ego holds a secondary station. 
 
 Dependent on the string for animation; 
 
 Its breast was scrawled with promises to pay 
 
 In cash poetic, — at some future day; 
 
 The wings were stiff with barbs and shafts of wit 
 
 That wildly beat the air, but never hit; 
 
 The tail was a satiric rod in pickle 
 
 To castigate the town's infirmities. 
 
 But all it compass'd was to lightly tickle 
 
 The casual doer of some small amiss. 
 
 So you lay helpless at my feet, imploring : 
 
 "O raise me, how and where is all the same! 
 
 Give me the power of singing and of soaring, 
 
 No matter at what cost of bitter blame!" 
 
 Falk. 
 [Clenching his fats in inward agitation.] 
 Heaven be my witness — ! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 No, you must be told : — 
 For such a childish sport I am too old. 
 But you, whom Nature made for high endeavour. 
 Are you content the fields of air to tread 
 Hanging your poet's life upon a thread 
 That at my pleasure I can slip and sever ? 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 373 
 
 Falk. 
 [Hurriedly.] 
 What is the date to-day ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [More gently.] 
 
 Why, now, that's right! 
 Mind well this day, and heed it, and beware; 
 Trust to your own wings only for your flight. 
 Sure, if they do not break, that they will bear. 
 The paper poem for the desk is fit. 
 That which is lived alone has life in it; 
 That only has the wings that scale the height; 
 Choose now between them, poet: be, or write! 
 
 [Nearer to him. 
 Now, I have done what you Ibesought me; now 
 My requiem is chanted from the bough; 
 My only one; now all my songs are flown; 
 Now if you will, I'm ready for the stone! 
 
 [She goes into the house; Falk remains motion- 
 less, looking after her; far out on the fjord is 
 seen a boat, from which the following chorus 
 is faintly heard: 
 
 CnoRtrs. 
 
 My wings I open, my sails spread wide. 
 And cleave like an eagle life's glassy tide; 
 
 Gulls follow my furrow's foaming; 
 Overboard with the ballast of care and cark; 
 And what if I shatter my roaming bark, / 
 
 It is passing sweet to be roaming! 
 
374 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Starting from a reverie.] 
 
 What, music ? Ah, it will be Lind's quartette 
 Getting their jubilation up.— Well met! 
 
 [To GuLDSTAD, who enters with an overcoat on 
 his arm. 
 Ah, slipping off, sir? 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 Yes, with your goodwill. 
 But let me first put on my overcoat. 
 We prose-folks are susceptible ,to chili; 
 The night wind takes us by the tuneless throat. 
 Good evening! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Sir, a word ere you proceed! 
 Show me a task, a mighty one, you know — ! 
 I'm going in for life — ! 
 
 Guldstad. 
 
 [With ironical emphasis.] 
 
 Well, in you go! 
 You'll find that you are i n for it, indeed. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Looking reflectively at him, says slowly.] 
 
 There is my program, furnished in a phrase. 
 
 [In a lively outburst. 
 N o w I have wakened from my dreaming days, 
 I've cast the die of life's supreme transaction, 
 I'll show you — else the devil take me — 
 
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 375 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Fie, 
 No cursing; curses never scared a fly. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Words, words, no more, but action, only action! 
 I will reverse the plan of the Creation; — 
 Six days were lavish'd in that occupation; 
 My world's still lying void and desolate, 
 Hurrah, to-morrow, Sunday — I'll create! 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Laughing.] 
 
 Yes, strip, and tackle it like a man, that's right! 
 But first, go in and sleep on it. Good-night ! 
 
 [Goes out to the left. Svanhild appears in the 
 
 room over the verandah; she shuts the window 
 
 and draws down the blind. 
 
 Falk. 
 No, first I'll act. I've slept too long and late. 
 
 [Looks up at Svanhild's window, and exclaims, 
 as if seized with a sudden resolution: 
 Good-night! Good-night! Sweet dreams to-night 
 
 be thine; 
 To-morrow, Svanhild, thou art plighted mine! 
 
 [Goes out quickly to the right; from the water 
 the Chokus is heard again. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Maybe I shall shatter my roaming bark. 
 But it's passing sweet to be roaming! 
 
 [The boat slowly glides away as the curtain falls. 
 
ACT SECOND 
 
 Sunday afternoon. Well-dressed ladies and gentlemen are 
 drinking coffee on the verandah. Several of the 
 guests appear through the open glass door in the gar- 
 den-room; the following song is heard from within. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Welcome, welcome, new plighted pair 
 
 To the merry ranks of the plighted! 
 
 Now you may revel as free as air, 
 
 Caress without stint and kiss without care, — 
 
 No longer of footfall affrighted. 
 
 Now you are licensed, wherever you go. 
 To the rapture of cooing and billing; 
 Now you have leisure love's seed to sow. 
 Water, and tend it, and make it grow; — 
 Let us see you've a talent for tilling! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Within.] 
 
 Ah Lind, if I only had chanced to hear, 
 I would have teased you ! 
 
 A Lady. 
 
 [Within.] 
 
 How vexatious though! 
 376 
 
ACTii] LOVE'S COMEDY 377 
 
 Anothek Lady. 
 [In the doorway.] 
 Dear Anna, did he ask in writing ? 
 
 An Aunt. 
 
 No! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Mine did. 
 
 A Lady. 
 
 [On the verandah.] 
 
 How long has it been secret, dear? 
 
 [Runs into the room. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 To-morrow there will be the ring to choose. 
 
 * 
 Ladies. 
 
 [Eagerly.] 
 
 We'll take his measure! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Nay; that she must do. 
 
 Mks. Stkawman. 
 [On the verandah, to a lady who is busy with embroidery.^ 
 What kind of knitting-needles do you use ? 
 
 A Servant. 
 [In tfie door with a coffee-pot.] 
 More coffee, madam ? 
 
378 LOVE'S COMEDY [act n 
 
 A Lady. 
 
 Thanks, a drop or two. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [To Anna.] 
 
 How fortunate you've got your new manteau 
 Next week to go your round of visits in! 
 
 An Elderly Lady. 
 [At the window.] 
 When shall we go and order the trousseau ? 
 
 Mrs. Strawman. 
 JIow are they selling cotton-bombasine? 
 
 A Gentleman. 
 
 [To some ladies on the verandah.] 
 
 Just look at Lind and Anna; what's his sport? 
 
 Ladies. 
 [With shrill ecstasy.] 
 Gracious, he kissed her glove ! 
 
 Others. 
 [Similarly, springing up.] 
 
 No! Kiss'dit? Really? 
 
 Lind. 
 [Appears, red and embarrassed, in the doorway.] 
 O, stuff and nonsense! [Disappears. 
 
ACT 11] LOVE'S COMEDY 379 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Yes, I saw it clearly. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [In the door, with a coffee-cup in one hand and a biscuit 
 ' in the other.] 
 
 The witnesses must not mislead the court; 
 I here make affidavit, they're in error. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Within.] 
 Come forward, Anna; stand before this mirror! 
 
 Some Ladies. 
 
 [Calling.] 
 You, too, Lind ! 
 
 Miss JAm 
 
 Back to back! A little nearer! 
 
 Ladies. 
 
 Come, let us see by how much she is short. 
 
 [All run into the garden-room; laughter and 
 
 shrill talk are heard for awhile from within. 
 [Falk, who during the preceding scene has been 
 
 walking about in the garden, advances into 
 
 the foreground, stops and looks in until the 
 
 noise has somewhat abated. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 There love's romance is being done to death. — 
 The butcher once who boggled at the slaughter. 
 Prolonging needlessly the ox's breath, — ' 
 
380 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 He got his twenty days of bread and water; 
 But these — these butchers yonder — they go free. 
 
 [Clenches his fist. 
 I could be tempted — ; hold, words have no worth, 
 I've sworn it, action only from henceforth! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Coming hastily but cautiously out.] 
 
 Thank God, they're talking fashions; now's my 
 
 chance 
 To slip away — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Ha, Lind, you've drawn the prize 
 Of luck, — congratulations buzz and dance 
 All day about you, like a swarm of flies. 
 
 Lind. 
 
 They're all at heart so kindly and so nice; 
 But rather fewer clients would sufiice. 
 Their helping hands begin to gall and fret me; 
 I'll get a moment's respite, if they'll let me. 
 
 [Going out to the right. 
 
 Falk. 
 Whither away ? 
 
 Lind. 
 
 Our den; — it has a lock; 
 In case you find the oak is sported, knock. 
 
 Falk. 
 But shall I not fetch Anna to you ? 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 381 
 
 LiND. 
 
 No— 
 If she wants anything, she'll let me know. 
 Last night we were discussing until late; 
 We've settled almost everything of weight; 
 Besides I think it scarcely goes with piety 
 To have too much of one's beloved's society. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, you are right; for daily food we need 
 A simple diet. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Pray excuse me, friend. 
 I want a whiff of reason and the weed; 
 I haven't smoked for three whole days on end. 
 My blood was pulsing in such agitation, 
 I trembled for rejection all4he time — 
 
 Falk. 
 Yes, you may well desire recuperation — 
 
 LiND. 
 
 And won't tobacco's flavour be sublime! 
 
 [Goes out to the right. Miss Jay and some other 
 Ladies come out of the garden-room. 
 
 Miss Jat. 
 [To Falk.] 
 That was he surely? 
 
 Falk, 
 
 Yes, your hunted deer. 
 
882 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 Ladies. 
 To run away from us! ' 
 
 Others. 
 
 For shame! For shame! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 'Tis a bit shy at present, but, no fear, 
 A week of servitude will make him tame. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Looking round.] 
 Where is he hid ? 
 
 * Falk. 
 
 His present hiding-place 
 Is in the garden loft, our common lair; [Blandly. 
 
 But let me beg you not to seek him there; 
 Give him a breathing time! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Well, good : the grace 
 Will not be long, tho'. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Nay, be generous! 
 Ten minutes, — then begin the game again. 
 He has an English sermon on the brain. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 An English— ? 
 
ACTii] LOVE'S COMEDY 383 
 
 Ladies. 
 O you laugh! You're fooling us! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I'm in grim tearnest. ,'Tis his fixed intention 
 To take a charge among the emigrants, 
 And therefore — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [With horror] 
 
 Heavens, he had the face to mention 
 That mad idea ? [To the ladies. 
 
 O quick — fetch all the aunts! 
 Aana, her mother, Mrs. Strawman too. 
 
 Ladies. 
 [Agitated.] 
 This must be stopped! 
 
 All. 
 
 We'll make a great ado! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Thank God, they're coming. 
 
 [To Anna, who comes from the garden-room 
 with Stbawman, his wife and children. 
 Stiver, Guldstad, Mbs. Halm and the 
 other guests. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Do you know what Lind 
 Has secretly determined in his mind? 
 To go as missionary — 
 
384 LOVE'S COMEDY [act « 
 
 Anna. 
 
 Yes, I know. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 And you've agreed — ! 
 
 Anna. 
 [Embarrassed.] 
 
 That I will also go. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Indignant.] 
 
 He's talked this stuff to you! 
 
 Ladies. 
 [Clasping their hands together.] 
 
 What tyranny! 
 
 Falk. 
 But think, his Call that would not be denied — ! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Tut, that's what people follow when they're free: 
 A bridegroom follows nothing but his bride. — 
 No, my sweet Anna, ponder, I entreat: 
 You, reared in comfort from your earliest breath — ? 
 
 Falk. 
 Yet, sure, to suffer for the faith is sweet! 
 
ACT 11] LOVE'S COMEDY 385 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Is one to suffer for one's bridegroom's faith ? 
 That is a rather novel point of view. 
 
 [To the ladies. 
 
 Ladies, attend! ^ „ , . 
 
 [I akes Anna s arm. 
 
 Now listen; then repeat 
 For his instruction what he has to do. 
 
 [ They go into the background and out to the right 
 in eager talk with several of the ladies; the 
 other guests disperse in groups about the 
 garden. Falk stofs Strawman, whose wife 
 and children keep close to him. Guldstad 
 goes to and fro during the following conver- 
 sation. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Come, pastor, help young fervour in its fight. 
 Before they lure Miss Anna from her vows. 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 [In clerical cadence. '\ 
 
 The wife must be submissive to the spouse; — 
 
 [Reflecting. 
 But if I apprehended him aright, 
 His Call's a problematical affair. 
 The Offering altogether in the air — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Pray do not judge so rashly. I can give 
 
 You absolute assurance, as I live. 
 
 His Call is definite and incontestable — 
 
386 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 Strawman. 
 [Seeing it in a new light.] 
 
 Ah — if there's something fixed — iiJvestable — 
 Per a n n u m — then I've nothing more to say. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Impatiently.] 
 
 You think the most of what I count the least; 
 I mean the inspiration , — not the pay! 
 
 Sthawman. 
 [With an unctuous smile.] 
 
 Pay is the first condition of a priest 
 
 In Asia, Africa, America, 
 
 Or where you will. Ah yes, if he were free. 
 
 My dear young friend, I willingly agree. 
 
 The thing might pass; but, being pledged and bound, 
 
 He'll scarcely find the venture very sound. 
 
 Reflect, he's young and vigorous, sure to found 
 
 A little family in time; assume his will 
 
 To be the very best on earth — but still 
 
 The means, my friend — ? ' Build not upon the 
 
 sand,' 
 Says Scripture. If, upon the other hand. 
 The Offering— 
 
 Falk. 
 
 That's no trifle, I'm aware. 
 
 Stkawman. 
 
 Ah, come — that wholly alters the affair. 
 When men are zealous in their Offering, 
 And liberal — 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 387 
 
 Falk. 
 There he far surpasses most. 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 " He " say you ? How ? In virtue of his post 
 The Offering is not what he has to bring 
 But what he has to get. 
 
 Mrs. Sthawman. 
 [Looking towards the background.] 
 
 They're sitting there. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [After staring a moment in amazement, suddenly under- 
 stands and bursts out laughing.] 
 
 Hurrah for Offerings — thet ones that caper 
 And strut — on Holy-days — in bulging paper! 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 All the year round the curb and bit we bear, 
 
 But Whitsuntide and Christmas make things square. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Gaily.] 
 
 Why then, provMed only there's enough of it. 
 Even family-founders will obey their Calls. 
 
 Stkawman. 
 
 Of course; a man assured the quantum suff. of it 
 Will preach the Gospel to the cannibals. 
 
 \8otto voce. 
 
388 LOVE'S COMEDY fAcrii 
 
 Now I must see if she cannot be led, 
 
 [To one of the little girls. 
 My little Mattie, fetch me out my head — 
 My pipe-head I should say, my little dear — 
 
 [Feels in his coat-tail pocket. 
 Nay, wait a moment tho': I have it here. 
 
 [Goes across and Jills his pipe, followed^ by his 
 wife and children. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Approaching.] 
 
 You seem to play the part of serpent in 
 This paradise of lovers. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 O, the pips 
 Upon the tree of knowledge are too green 
 To be a lure for anybody's lips. 
 
 [To LiND, who comes in from the right. 
 Ha, Lind! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 In Heaven's name, who's been ravaging 
 Our sanctum ? Ther^ the lamp lies dashed 
 To pieces, curtain dragged to floor, pen smashed. 
 And on the mantelpiece the ink pot splashed — ■ 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Clapping him on the shoulder.] 
 
 This wreck's the first announcement of my spring; 
 No more behind drawn curtains I will sit, 
 Making pen poetry with lamp alit; 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 389 
 
 My dull domestic poetising's done, 
 
 I'll walk by day, and glory in the sun: 
 
 My spring has come, my soul has broken free. 
 
 Action henceforth shall be my poetry. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Make poetry of what you please for me; 
 But how if Mrs. Halm should take amiss 
 Your breaking of her furniture to pieces ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 What! — she, who lays her daughters and her nieces 
 Upon the altar of her boarders' bliss, — 
 She frown at such a bagatelle as this! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Angrily.^ 
 
 It's utterly outrageous and unfair. 
 
 And compromises me as well as you! 
 
 But that's her business, settle it with her. 
 
 The lamp was mine, tho', shade and burner too — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Tut, on that head, I've no account to render; 
 You have God's summer sunshine in its splendour, — 
 What would you with the lamp ? 
 
 LiND. 
 
 You are grotesque; 
 You utterly forget that summer passes; 
 If I'm" to make a figure in my classes 
 At Christmas I must buckle to my desk. 
 
390 LOVE'S COMEDY [act n 
 
 Falk. 
 [Staring at him.] 
 What, you look forward ? 
 
 LiND. 
 
 To be sure I do, 
 The examination's amply worth it too. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Ah but — you 'only sit and live' — remember! 
 Drunk with the moment, you demand no more — 
 Not even a modest third-class next December. 
 You've caught the bird of Fortune fair and fleet. 
 You feel as if the world with all its store 
 Were scattered in profusion at your feet. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Those were my words; they must be understood, 
 Of course, cum grano salis — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Very good ! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 In the forenoons I will enjoy my bliss; 
 That I am quite resolved on — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Daring man! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 I have my round of visits to the clan; • 
 Time will run anyhow to waste in this; 
 
ACTii] LOVE'S COMEDY 391 
 
 But any further dislocation of 
 
 My study-plan I strongly disapprove. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 A week ago, however, you were bent 
 
 On going out into God's world with song. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Yes, but I thought the tour a little long; 
 The fourteen days might well be better spent. 
 
 Falk 
 
 Nay, but you had another argument 
 For staying; how the lovely dale for you 
 Was mountain' air and winged warble too. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Yes, to be sure, this air is unalloyed; 
 
 But all its benefits may be enjoyed 
 
 Over one's book without the slightest bar. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 But it was just the Book which failed, you see. 
 As Jacob's ladder — 
 
 LiND. 
 
 How perverse you are; 
 That is what people say when they are f r e e — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Looking at him and folding his hands in silent amaze- 
 ment.] 
 Thou also, Brutus! 
 
392 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [With a shade of confusion and annoyance.] 
 
 Pray remember, do ! 
 That I have other duties now than you; 
 I have nxy fiancee. Every plighted pair, 
 Those of prolonged experience not excepted, — 
 Whose evidence you would not wish rejected, — ■ 
 Will tell you, that if two are bound to fare 
 Through life together, they must — 
 
 Prithee 
 
 spare 
 
 Falk. 
 The comment; who supplied it? 
 
 LlND. 
 
 Well, we'll say 
 Stiver, he's honest surely; and Miss Jay, 
 Who has such very great experience here. 
 She says — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Well, but the Parson and his — dear? 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Yes, they're remarkable. There broods above 
 Them such placidity, such quietude, — 
 Conceive, she can't remember being wooed. 
 Has quite forgotten what is meant by love. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Ah yes, when one has slumber'd over long. 
 The birds of memory refuse their song. 
 
 [Laying his hand on Lind's shoulder, with an 
 ironical look. 
 
 You, Lind, slept sound last night, I guarantee ? 
 
ACT 11] LOVE'S COMEDY 393 
 
 LiND. 
 
 And long. I went to bed in such depression, 
 And yet with such a fever in my brain, 
 I almost doubted if I could be sane. 
 
 Falk. 
 Ah yes, a sort of witchery, you see. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Thank God I woke in perfect self-possession. 
 
 [During the foregoing scene Stkawman has been 
 seen from time to time walking in the back- 
 ground in lively conversation with Anna; 
 Mrs. Stkawman and the children follow. 
 Miss Jay now appears also, and with her 
 Mrs. Halm and other ladies. 
 
 Miss Jat. 
 \Before she enters.] 
 Ah, Mr. Lind. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [To Falk.] 
 
 They're after me again! 
 Come, let us go. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Nay, nay, you must remain. 
 Let us make speedy end of the division 
 That has crept in between your love and you. 
 
 Lind. 
 Are we divided ? 
 
394 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Pointing to Anna, who is standing further off in the 
 
 garden.] 
 
 Gather the decision 
 From yon red eyes. The foreign mission drew 
 Those tears. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 But heavens, she was glad to go — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Scoffing.] 
 
 Yes, to be sure, one would imagine so! 
 No, my dear Lind, you'll take another view 
 When you have heard the whole affair discussed. 
 
 Lind. 
 
 But then this warfare for the faith, you know. 
 Is my most cherished dream! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 O who would build 
 
 On dreaming in this century of light ? 
 
 Why, Stiver had a dream the other night; 
 
 There came a letter singularly sealed — 
 
 Mbs. Stbawman. 
 It's treasure such a dream prognosticates. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Nodding.] 
 
 Yes, and next day they sued him for the rates. 
 
 [The ladies make a circle round Lind and go in 
 conversation with him into the garden. 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 395 
 
 Strawman. 
 [Continuing, to Anna, who faintly tries to escape.] 
 
 From these considerations, daughter mine, 
 From these considerations, buttressed all 
 With reason, morals, and the Word Divine, 
 You now perceive that to desert your Call 
 Were absolutely inexcusable. 
 
 Anna. 
 [Half crying.] 
 Oh! I'm so young — 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 And it is natural, 
 I own, that one should hesitate to thrid 
 These perils, dare the snares that there lie hid; 
 From doubt's entanglement you must break free, — 
 Be of good cheer and follow Moll and me ! 
 
 Mrs. Strawman. 
 
 Yes, your dear mother tells me that I too 
 Was just as inconsolable as you 
 When we received our Call — 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 And for like cause-^ 
 The fascination of the town — it was; 
 But when a little money had come in. 
 And the first pairs of infants, twin by twin. 
 She quite got over it. 
 
396 LOVE'S COMEDY [actii 
 
 Falk. 
 [Sotto voce to Stkawman.] 
 
 Bravo, you able 
 Persuader. 
 
 Stbawman. 
 [Nodding to him and turning again to Anna.] 
 
 Now you've promised me, be stable. 
 Shall man renounce his work? Falk says the Call 
 Is not so very slender after all. 
 Did you not, Falk ? 
 
 Falk. 
 Nay, pastor — 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 To be sure — ! 
 ' [To Anna. 
 
 Of something then at least you are secure. 
 What's gained by giving up, if that is so ? 
 Look back into the ages long ago. 
 See, Adam, Eve — the Ark, see, pair by pair. 
 Birds in the field — the lilies in the air. 
 The little birds — the little birds — the fishes — 
 
 [Continues in a lower tone, as he withdraws 
 with Anna. 
 [Miss Jay and the Aunts return with Lind.] 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Hurrah! Here come the veterans in array; 
 The old guard charging to retrieve the day! 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 397 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Ah, in exact accordance with our wishes! [Aside. 
 
 We have him, Falk ! — Now let us tackle her! 
 
 [Approaches Anna. 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 [With a deprecating motion.] 
 
 She needs no secular solicitation; 
 The Spirit has spoken, what can Earth bestead — ? 
 
 [Modestly. 
 If in some small degree my words have sped. 
 Power was vouchsafed me — ! 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Come, no jnore evasion, 
 Bring them together! 
 
 Aunts. 
 [With emotion.] 
 
 Ah, how exquisite! 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Yes, can there be a heart so dull and dead 
 As not to be entranced at such a sight! 
 It is so thrilling and so penetrating. 
 So lacerating, so exhilarating. 
 To see an innocent babe devoutly lay 
 Its oflFering on Duty's altar. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Nay, 
 Her family have also done their part. 
 
398 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 I and the Aunts — I should imagine so. 
 
 You, Lind, may have the key to Anna's heart, 
 
 [Presses his hand. 
 But we possess a picklock, you must know, 
 Able to open where the key avails not. 
 And if in years to come, cares throng, and thwart, 
 Only apply to us, our friendship fails not. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 Yes, we shall hover round you all your life, — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 And shield you from the fieild of wedded strife; 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 Enchanting group ! Love, friendship, hour of glad- 
 ness, 
 Yet so pathetically touched with sadness. 
 
 [Turning to Lind. 
 But now, young man, pray make an end of this. 
 
 [Leading Anna to him. 
 Take thy betrothed — receive her — with a kiss! 
 
 Lind. 
 [Giving his hand to Anna.] 
 I stay at home! 
 
 Anna. 
 [At the same moment.'] 
 I go with you ! 
 
ACT 11] LOVE'S COMEDY 399 
 
 Anna. 
 [Amazed.] 
 You stay ? 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Equally so.] , 
 
 You go with me? 
 
 Anna. 
 [With a helpless glance at the company.] 
 Why, then, we are divided as before! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 What's this ? 
 
 The Ladies. 
 What now ?^ 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Excitedly.] 
 
 Our wills are all at war — 
 
 Steawman 
 
 She gave her solemn word to cross the sea 
 With him! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 And he gave his to slay ashore 
 With her! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Laughing.] 
 
 They both complied ; what would you more ! 
 
400 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 Stkawman. 
 
 These complications are too much for me. 
 
 [Goes towards the background. 
 
 Aunts 
 [To One another.] 
 How in the world came they to disagree? 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [To GuLDSTAD and Stiveh, who have been walking 
 in the garden and now approach.] 
 
 The spirit of discord's in possession here. 
 
 [Talks aside to them. 
 
 Mrs. Stbawman. 
 
 [To Miss Jay, noticing that the table is being laid.] 
 There comes the tea. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Curtly.] 
 
 Thank heaven. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Hurrah ! a cheer 
 For love and friendship, maiden aunts and tea! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 But if the case stands thus, the whole proceeding 
 
 May easily be ended with a laugh; 
 
 All turns upon a single paragraph. 
 
 Which bids the wife attend the spouse. No pleading 
 
 Can wrest an ordinance so clearly stated — 
 
ACTii] LOVE'S COMEDY 401 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Doubtless, but does that help us to agree? 
 
 Stbawman. 
 She must obey a law that heaven dictated. 
 
 Stiver. 
 But Lind can circumvent that law, you see. 
 
 [roLiND. 
 Put off your journey, and then — budge no jot. 
 
 Aunts. 
 [Delighted.] 
 Yes, that's the way. 
 
 Mfis. Halm. 
 Agreed ! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 That cuts the knot. 
 [SvANHiLD and the maids have meantime laid 
 the tea-table beside the verandah steps. At 
 Mrs. Halm's invitation the ladies sit down. 
 The rest of the company take their places, 
 partly on the verandah and in the summer- 
 house, partly in the garden. Falk sits on the 
 verandah. During the following scene they 
 drink tea. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 [Smiling.] 
 
 And so our little storm is overblown. 
 
 Such summer showers do good when they are gone; 
 
402 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 The sunshine greets us with a double boon. 
 And promises a cloudless afternoon. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Ah yes. Love's blossom without rainy skies 
 Would never thrive according to our wishes. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 In dry land set it, and it forthwith dies; 
 For in so far the flowers are like the fishes — 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Nay, for Love lives, you know, upon the air — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Which is the death of fishes — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 So I say. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Aha, we've put a bridle on you there! 
 
 Mrs. Stkawman. 
 The tea is good, one knows by the bouquet. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Well, let us keep the simile you chose. 
 
 Love is a flower; for if heaven's blessed rain 
 
 Fall short, it all but pines to death^ — [Pauses. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 What then ? 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 403 
 
 Falk. 
 [With a gallant bow.] 
 
 Then come the aunts with the reviving hose. — 
 
 But poets have this simile employed, 
 
 And men for scores of centuries enjoyed, — 
 
 Yet hardly one its secret sense has hit; 
 
 For flowers are manifold and infinite. 
 
 Say, then, what flower is love? Name me, who 
 
 knows. 
 The flower most like it ? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Why, it is the rose; 
 Good gracious, that's exceedingly well known; — 
 Love, all agree, lends life a rosy tone. 
 
 A Young Lady. 
 
 It is the snowdrop; growing;, snow enfurled; 
 Till it peer forth, undreamt of by the world. 
 
 An Aunt. 
 
 It is the dandelion, — made robust 
 By dint of human heel and horse hoof thrust; 
 Nay, shooting forth afresh when it is smitten, 
 As Pedersen so charmingly has written. 
 
 lilND. 
 
 It is the bluebell, — ringing in for all 
 Young hearts life's joyous Whitsun festival 
 
 Mhs. Halm. 
 
 No, 'tis an evergreen, — as fresh and gay 
 In desolate December as in May. 
 
404 LOVE'S COMEDY [actii 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 No, Iceland moss, dry gathered, — far the best 
 Cure for young ladies with a wounded breast. 
 
 A ■ Gentleman. 
 
 No, the wild chestnut tree, — in high repute 
 For household fuel, but with a bitter fruit. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 No, a camelia; at our balls, 'tis said, 
 The chief adornment of a lady's head. 
 
 Mrs. Stbawman. 
 
 No, it is like a flower, O such a bright one; — . 
 Stay now — a blue one, no, it was a white one — 
 What i s its name — ? Dear me — the one I met — ; 
 Well it is singular how I forget! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 None of these flower similitudes will run. 
 The flow,erp o t is a likelier candidate. 
 There's only room in it, at once, for one; 
 But by progressive stages it holds eight. 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 \With his little girls round him.] 
 
 No, love's a pear tree; in the spring like snow 
 With myriad blossoms, which in summer grow 
 To pearlets; in the parent's sap each shares; — 
 And with God's help they'll all alike prove pears. 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 405 
 
 Falk. 
 
 So many heads, so many sentences! 
 No, you all grope and blunder off the line. 
 Each simile's at fault; I'll tell you mine; — 
 You're free to turn and wrest it as you please. 
 
 [Rises as if to make a speech. 
 In the remotest east there grows a plant;' 
 And the sun's cousin's garden is its haunt — 
 
 V 
 
 The Ladies. 
 Ah, it's the tea-plant ! 
 
 Falk. 
 Yes. 
 
 Mrs. Sthawman. 
 
 His voice is so 
 Like Strawman's when he — 
 
 Steawman. 
 
 Don't disturb his flow. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 It has its home in fabled lands serene; 
 Thousands of miles of desert lie between; — 
 Fill up, Lind! — So. — Now in a tea-oration, 
 I'll show of tea and Love the true relation. 
 
 [The guests cluster round him. 
 It has its home in the romantic land; 
 Alas, Love's home is also in Romance, 
 Only the Sun's descendants understand 
 The herb's right cultivation and advance. 
 ' See Notes, page 483. 
 
406 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 With Love it is not otherwise than so. 
 Blood of the Sun along the veins must flow 
 If Love indeed therein is to strike root. 
 And burgeon into blossom, into fruit. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 But China is an ancient land; you hold 
 In consequence that tea is very old — 
 
 Strawman. 
 Past question antecedent to Jerusalem. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, 'twas already famous when Methusalem 
 Ilis picture-books and rattles tore and flung — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [ Triumphantly .] 
 
 And Love is in its very nature young! 
 To find a likeness there is pretty bold. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No; Love, in truth, is also very old; 
 
 That principle we here no more dispute 
 
 Than do the folks of Rio or Beyrout. 
 
 Nay, there are those from Cayenne to Caithness, 
 
 Who stand upon its everlastingness; — 
 
 Well, that may be a slight exaggeration. 
 
 But old it is beyond all estimation. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 But Love is all alike; whereas we see 
 
 Both good and bad and middling kinds of tea! 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 407 
 
 Mrs. Stkawman. 
 Yes, they sell tea of many qualities. 
 
 Anna. 
 The green spring shoots I count the very first — 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Those serve to quench celestial daughters' thirst. 
 
 A Young Lady. 
 Witching as ether fumes they say it is — 
 
 Another. 
 Balmy as lotus, sweet as almond, clear — 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 That's not an article we d^l in here. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Who has meanwhile come down from the verandah.] 
 
 Ah, ladies, every mortal has a small 
 
 Private celestial empire in his heart. 
 
 There bud such shoots in thousands, kept apart 
 
 By Shyness's soon shatter'd Chinese Wall. 
 
 But in her dim fantastic temple bower 
 
 The little Chinese puppet sits and sighs, 
 
 A dream of far-off wonders in her eyes — 
 
 And in her hand a golden tulip flower. 
 
 For her the tender firstling tendrils grew; — 
 
 Rich crop or meagre, what is that to you ? 
 
 Instead of it we get an after crop 
 
 They kick the tree for, dust and stalk and stem, — 
 
 As hemp to silk beside what goes to them — 
 
408 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 That is the black tea. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Nodding.] 
 
 That's what fills the shop. 
 
 A Gentleman. 
 There's beef tea too, that Holberg says a word of — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Sharply.] 
 To modern taste entirely out of date. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And a beef love has equally been heard of. 
 
 Wont — in romances — to browbeat its mate, 
 
 And still they say its trace may be detected 
 
 Amongst the henpecked of the married state. 
 
 In short there's likeness where 'twas least expected. 
 
 So, as you know, an ancient proverb tells. 
 
 That something ever passes from the tea 
 
 Of the bouquet that lodges in its cells. 
 
 If it be carried hither over sea. 
 
 It must across the desert and the hills, — 
 
 Pay toll to Cossack and to Russian tills; — 
 
 It gets their stamp and licence, that's enough. 
 
 We buy it as the true and genuine stuff. 
 
 But has not Love the self -same path to fare ? 
 
 Across Life's desert ? How the world would rave 
 
 And shriek if you or I should boldly bear 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 409 
 
 Our Love by way of Freedom's ocean wave! 
 "Good heavens, his moral savour's passed away, 
 "And quite dispersed Legality's bouquet!" — 
 
 Strawman. 
 [Rising.] 
 Yes, happily, — in every moral land 
 Such wares continue to be contraband! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, to pass current here, Love must have cross'd 
 
 The great Siberian waste of regulations, 
 
 Fann'd by no breath of ocean to its cost; 
 
 It must produce official attestations 
 
 From friends and kindred, devils of relations. 
 
 From church curators, organist and clerk. 
 
 And other fine folks — over and above 
 
 The primal licence which God gave to Love. — 
 
 And then the last great point of likeness; — mark 
 
 How heavily the hand of culture weighs 
 
 Upon that far Celestial domain; 
 
 Its power is shatter 'd, and its wall decays. 
 
 The last true Mandarin's strangled; hands profane 
 
 Already are put forth to share the spoil; 
 
 Soon the Sun's realm will be a legend vain. 
 
 An idle tale incredible to sense; 
 
 The world is gray in gray — we've flung the soil 
 
 On buried Faery, — we have made her mound. 
 
 But if we have, — then where can Love be found ? 
 
 Alas, Love also is departed hence ! [Lifts his cup. 
 
 Well let him go, since so the times decree; — 
 
 A health to Amor, late of Earth, — in tea! 
 
 [He drains his cup; indignant murmurs amongst 
 the company. 
 
410 LOVE'S COMEDY [a.ct n 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 A very odd expression! "Dead" indeed! 
 
 The Ladies. 
 To say that Love is dead — ! 
 
 Stkawman. 
 
 Why, here you see 
 Him sitting, rosy, round and sound, at tea, 
 In all conditions! Here in her sable weed " 
 The widow — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Here a couple, true and tried, — 
 
 Stiver. 
 With many ample pledges fortified. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Then Love's light cavalry, of maid and man. 
 The plighted pairs in order — 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 In the van 
 The veterans, whose troth has laughed to scorn 
 The tooth of Time— 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Hastily interrupting.] 
 
 And then the babes new-born — 
 The little novices of yester-morn — 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 411 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Spring, summer, autumn, winter, in a word. 
 Are here; the truth is patent, past all doubt, 
 It can be clutched and handled, seen and heard,— 
 
 Falk. 
 What then ? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 And yet you want to thrust it out! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Madam, you quite mistake. In all I spoke 
 
 I cast no doubt on anything you claim; 
 
 But I would fain remind you that, from smoke. 
 
 We cannot logically argue flame. 
 
 That men are married, and have children, I 
 
 Have no desire whatever toedeny; 
 
 Nor do I dream of doubting that such things 
 
 Are in the world as troth and wedding-rings; 
 
 That billets-doux some tender hands indite 
 
 And seal with pairs of turtle doves that — fight; 
 
 That sweethearts swarm in cottage and in hall. 
 
 That chocolate rewards the wedding-call; 
 
 That usage and convention have decreed. 
 
 In every point, how "Lovers" shall proceed: — 
 
 But, heavens! We've majors also by the score. 
 
 Arsenals heaped with muniments of war. 
 
 With spurs and howitzers and drums and shot. 
 
 But what does that permit us to infer? 
 
 That we have men who dangle swords, but not 
 
 That they will wield the weapons that they wear. 
 
 Tho' all the plain with gleaming tents you crowd. 
 
 Does that make heroes of the men they shroud ? 
 
412 LOVE'S COMEDY [actii 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Well, all in moderation; I must own, 
 
 It, is not quite conducive to the truth 
 
 That we should paint the enamourment of youth 
 
 So bright, as if — ahem — it stood alone. 
 
 Love-making still a frail foundation is. 
 
 Only the snuggery of wedded bliss 
 
 Provides a rock where Love may builded be 
 
 In unassailable security. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 There I entirely diflFer. In my view, 
 A free accord of lovers, heart with heart. 
 Who hold together, having leave to part. 
 Gives the best warrant that their love is true. 
 
 Anna. 
 
 [Warmly.] 
 
 O no — Love's bond when it is fresh and young 
 Is of a stuff more precious and more strong. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Thoughtfully i] 
 
 Possibly the ideal flower may blow. 
 
 Even as that snowdrop,— hidden by the snow. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [With a sudden outburst.] 
 
 You fallen Adam! There a heart was cleft 
 With longing for the Eden it has left! 
 
ACTii] LOVE'S COMEDY 413 
 
 LiND. 
 
 What stuff! 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 \Offended, to Falk, rising.] 
 
 'Tis not a very friendly act 
 To stir a quarrel where we've made a peace. 
 As for your friend's good fortune, be at ease — 
 
 Some Ladies. 
 Nay that's assured — 
 
 Others. 
 
 A very certain fact. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 The cooking-class at school, •! must confess, 
 She did not take; but she shall learn it still. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 With her own hands she's trimming her own dress. 
 
 An Aunt. 
 [Patting Anna's hand.] 
 And growing exquisitely sensible. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Laughing alovd.] 
 
 O parody of sense, that rives and rends 
 In maniac dance upon the lips of friends! 
 Was it good sense he wanted ? Or a she- 
 Professor of the lore of Cookery ? 
 
414 LOVE'S COMEDY [actii 
 
 A joyous son of springtime he came here. 
 For the wild rosebud on the bush he burned. 
 You reared the rosebud for him; he returned — 
 And for his rose found what ? The hip ! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Offended.] 
 
 You jeer! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 A useful household condiment, heaven knows! 
 But yet the hip was not his bridal rose. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 0, if it is a ball-room queen he wants, 
 
 I'm very sorry; these are not their haunts. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 yes, I know the pretty coquetry 
 They carry on with "Domesticity." 
 It is a suckling of the mighty Lie 
 
 That, like hop-tendrils, spreads itself on high. 
 
 1, madam, reverently bare my head 
 
 To the ball queen; a child of beauty she — 
 And the ideal's golden woof is spread 
 In ball-rooms, hardly in the nursery. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 [With suppressed bitterness.] 
 
 Your conduct, sir, is easily explained; 
 A plighted lover cannot be a friend; 
 That is the kernel of the whole affair; 
 
 1 have a very large experience there. 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 415 
 
 Falk. 
 No doubt, — with seven nieces, each a wife — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 And each a happy wife — 
 
 Falk. 
 [With emphasis.] 
 
 Ah, do we know? 
 
 Guldstad. 
 How! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Mr. Falk! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 « 
 
 Are you resolved to sow 
 Dissension ? 
 
 Falk. 
 [Vehemently.] 
 • Yes, war, discord, turmoil, strife! 
 
 Stiver. 
 What you, a l9,y, profane outsider here! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 , No matter, still the battle- flag I'll rear! 
 Yes, it is war I mean with nail and tooth 
 Against the Lie with the tenacious root. 
 The lie that you have fostered into fruit. 
 For all its strutting in the guise of truth! 
 
416 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Against these groundless charges I protest. 
 Reserving right of action — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 Do be still! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 So then it is Love's ever-running rill 
 
 That tells the widow what she once possess'd, — 
 
 That very Love that, in the days gone by. 
 
 Out of her language blotted "moan" and "sigh"! 
 
 So then it is Love's brimming tide that rolls 
 
 Along the placid veins of wedded souls, — 
 
 That very Love that faced the iron sleet. 
 
 Trampling inane Convention under feet. 
 
 And scoffing at the impotent discreet! 
 
 So then it is Love's beauty-kindled flame 
 
 That keeps the plighted from the taint of time 
 
 Year after year! Ah yes, the very same 
 
 That made our young bureaucrat blaze in r^hme! 
 
 So it is Love's young bliss that will not brave 
 
 The voyage over vaulted Ocean's wave. 
 
 But asks a sacrifice when, like the sun. 
 
 Its face should fill with glory, making one ! 
 
 Ah no, you vulgar prophets of the Lie, 
 
 Give things the names we ought to know them by; 
 
 Call widows' passion — wanting what they miss, . 
 
 And wedlock's habit — call it what it is ! 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 Young man, this insolence has gone too far! 
 In every word there's scoffing and defiance. 
 
 [Ooes close up to Falk. 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 417 
 
 Now I'll gird up my aged loins to war 
 
 For hallowed custom against modern science ! 
 
 Falk. 
 I go to battle as it were a feast! 
 
 Strawman 
 
 Good! For your bullets I will be a beacon: — 
 
 [Nearer. 
 A wedded pair is holy, like a priest — 
 
 Stiver. 
 [At Falk's other side.] 
 And a betrothed — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Half -holy, like the deacon. 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Behold these children; — see, — this little throng! 
 lo triumphe may for them be sung! 
 How was it possible — how practicable — ; 
 The words of truth are strong, inexorable; — 
 He has no hearing whom they cannot move. 
 See, — every one of them's a child of Love — ! 
 
 [Stops in confusion. 
 That is — you understand — ^I would have said — ! 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [Fanning herself with her handkerchief!] 
 This is a very mystical oration! 
 
418 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 Falk. 
 
 There you yourself provide the demonstration, — 
 
 A good old Norse one, sound, true-born, home-bred. 
 
 You draw distinction between wedded pledges 
 
 And those of Love: your Logic's without flaw. 
 
 They are distinguished just as roast from raw. 
 
 As hothouse bloom from wilding of the hedges! 
 
 Love is with us a science and an art; 
 
 It long since ceased to animate the heart. 
 
 Love is with us a trade, a special line 
 
 Of business, with its union, code and sign; 
 
 It is a guild of married folks and plighted. 
 
 Past-masters with apprentices united; 
 
 For they cohere compact as jelly-fishes, 
 
 A singing-club their single want and wish is — 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 And a gazette! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 A good suggestion, yes! 
 We too must have our organ in the press. 
 Like ladies, athletes, boys, and devotees. 
 Don't ask the price at present, if you please. 
 There I'll parade each amatory fetter 
 That John and Thomas to our town unites, 
 There publish every pink and perfumed letter 
 That William to his tender Jane indites; 
 There you shall read, among "Distressing Scenes" — 
 Instead of murders and burnt crinolines. 
 The broken matches that the week's afforded; 
 There under "goods for sale" you'll find what firms 
 Will furnish cast-off rings on easy terms; 
 There double, treble births will be recorded; 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 419 
 
 No wedding, but our rallying rub-a-dub 
 Shall drum to the performance all the club; 
 No suit rejected, but we'll set it down, 
 In letters large, with other news of weight 
 Thus: " Amor-Moloch, we regret to state, 
 Has claimed another victim in our town." 
 You'll see, we'll catch subscribers: once in sight 
 Of the propitious season when they bite. 
 By way of throwing them the bait they'll brook 
 I'll stick a nice young man upon'my hook. 
 Yes, you will see me battle for our cause. 
 With tiger's, nay with editorial, claws 
 Rending them — 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 And the paper's" name will be — ? 
 
 Falk. • 
 Amor's Norse Chronicle of Archery. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Going nearer.] 
 
 You're not in earnest, you will never stake 
 Your name and fame for such a fancy's sake! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I'm in grim earnest. We are often told 
 
 Men cannot live on love; I'll show that this 
 
 Is an untenable hypothesis; 
 
 For Ldve will prove to be a mine of gold: 
 
 Particularly if Miss Jay, perhaps. 
 
 Will Mr. Strawman's "Life's Romance" unfold, 
 
 As appetising feuilleton, in scraps. 
 
420 LOVE'S COMEDY [act n 
 
 Stbawman. 
 [In terror.] 
 
 Merciful heaven! My "life's romance"! What, 
 
 what! 
 When was my life romantic, if you please ? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 I never said so. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Witness disagrees. 
 
 «- 
 Stbawman. 
 
 That I have ever swerved a single jot 
 From social prescript, — is a monstrous lie. 
 
 Falk. 
 Good. 
 
 [Clapping Stiveh on the shoulder. 
 Here's a friend who will not be put by. 
 We'll start with Stiver's lyric ecstasies. 
 
 Stiver. 
 [After a glance of horror at Strawman.] 
 
 Are you quite mad! Nay then I must be heard! 
 You dare accuse me for a poet — 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 How — I 
 
 Falk. 
 Your office has averred it anyhow. 
 
ACT 11] LOVE'S COMEDY 421 
 
 , Stiver. 
 [In towering anger.] 
 Sir, by our office nothing is averred. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Well, leave me then, you also: I have by me 
 One comrade yet whose loyalty will last. 
 "A true heart's story" Lind will not deny me, 
 Whose troth's too tender for the ocean blast. 
 Who for his mistress makes surrender of 
 His fellow-men — pure quintessence of Love! 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 My patience, Mr. Falk, is now worn out. 
 The same abode no longer can receive us: — 
 I beg of you this very day to leave us — 
 
 Falk. 
 [With a bow as Mrs. Halm and the company withdraw.] 
 That this would come I never had a doubt! 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Between us two there's battle to the death; 
 You've slandered me, my wife, my little flock. 
 From MoUie down to Millie, in one breath. 
 'Crow on, crow on — Emancipation's cock,— 
 
 [Goes in, followed by his wife and children. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And go you on observing Peter's faith 
 
 To Love your lord — who, thanks to your advice. 
 
 Was thrice denied before the cock crew thrice! 
 
422 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 Miss Jat. 
 [ Turning faint.] 
 
 Attend me, Stiver! help me get unlaced 
 
 My corset— ^this way, this way— ^do make haste! 
 
 Stiver. 
 [To Falk, as he withdraws with Miss Jay on his arm.] 
 I here renounce your friendship. 
 
 LiND. 
 
 I likewise. 
 Falk. 
 [Seriously.] 
 You too, my Lind ? 
 
 LiND. 
 
 Farewell. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You were my nearest onC' — 
 
 Lind. 
 No help, it is the pleasure of my dearest one. 
 
 [He goes in: Svanhild has remained standing 
 on the verandah steps. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 So, now I've made a clearance, have free course 
 In all directions! 
 
 Svanhild. 
 Falk, one word with you! 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 423 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Pointing politely to the house.] 
 
 That way. Miss Halm; — that way, with all the force 
 Of aunts and inmates, Mrs. Halm withdrew. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Nearer to him.] 
 
 Let them withdraw; their ways and mine divide; 
 I will not swell the number of their band. 
 
 Falk. 
 You'll stay ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 If you make war on lies, I stand 
 A trusty armour-bearer by "your side. 
 
 Falk. 
 You, Svanhild, you who — 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 I, who — yesterday- — ? 
 Were you yourself, Falk, yesterday the same ? 
 You bade me be a sallow, for your play. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And a sweet sallow sang me into shame. 
 No, you are right; I was a child to ask; 
 But you have fired me to a nobler task. 
 Right in the midst of men the Church is founded 
 
424 LOVE'S COMEDY [actii 
 
 Where Truth's appealing clarion must be sounded 
 We are not called, like demigods, to gaze on 
 The battle from the far-off mountain's crest. 
 But in our hearts to bear our fiery blazon, 
 An Olaf's cross upon a mailed breast, — 
 To look afar across the fields of flight. 
 The' pent within the mazes of its' might, — 
 Beyond the mirk descry one glimmer still 
 Of glory — that's the Call we must fulfil. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 And you'll fulfil it when you break from men. 
 Stand free, alone, — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Did I frequent them then? 
 And there lies duty. No, that time's gone by, — 
 My solitary compact with the sky. 
 My four- wall-chamber poetry is done; 
 My verse shall live in forest and in field, 
 I'll fight under the . splendour of the sun; — 
 I or the Lie — one of us two must yield ! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Then forth with God from Verse to Derringdoe! 
 I did you wrong: you have a feeling heart; 
 Forgive me, — and as good friends let us part — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Nay, in my future there is room for two! 
 We part not. Svanhild, if you dare decide. 
 We'll battle on together side by side. 
 
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 425 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 We battle? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 See, I have no friend, no mate, 
 By all abandoned, I make war on all: 
 At me they aim the piercing shafts of hate; 
 Say, do you dare with me to stand or fall ? 
 Henceforth along the beaten walks I'll move 
 Heedful of each constraining etiquette; 
 Spread, like the rest of men, my board, and set 
 The ring upon the finger of my love! 
 
 [Takes a ring from his finger and holds it up. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [In breathless suspense.] 
 You mean that ? ^ 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, by us the world shall see, 
 ■ Love has an everlasting energy, 
 
 That suffers not its splendour to take hurt 
 From the day's dust, the common highway's dirt. 
 Last night I showed you the ideal flame, 
 Beaconing from a dizzy mountain's brow. 
 You shuddered, for you were a woman, ^now 
 I show you woman's veritable aim; — 
 A soul like yours, what it has vowed, will keep. 
 You see the abyss before you. — Svanhild, leap! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Almost inavdibly.] 
 If we should fail — ! 
 
426 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii 
 
 Falk. 
 [Exulting.] 
 
 No, in your eyes I see 
 A gleam that surely prophesies our winning! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Then take me as I am, take all of me! 
 
 Now buds the young leaf; now my spring's begin- 
 ning ! 
 [She flings herself boldly into his arms as the 
 curtain falls. 
 
ACT THIRD 
 
 Evening. Bright moonlight. Coloured lanterns are hung 
 about the trees. In the background are covered tables 
 with bottles, glasses, biscuits, etc. From the house, 
 which is lighted up from top to bottom, subdued 
 music and singing are heard during the following 
 scene. Svanhild stands on the verandah. Falk 
 comes from the right with some books and a portfolio 
 under his arm. The Pobtek follows with a port- 
 manteau and a knapsack. 
 
 Falk. • 
 That's all, then ? 
 
 Porter. 
 
 Yes, sir, all is in the pack. 
 But just a satchel, and the paletot. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Good; when I go, I'll take them on niy back. 
 Now off. See, this is the portfolio. 
 
 It's locked, I see. 
 
 Porter. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Locked, Peter. 
 
 427 
 
438 
 
 LOVE'S COMEDY 
 
 
 [act III 
 
 
 POHTEK. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Good 
 
 , sir. 
 
 Falk. 
 Make haste and burn it. 
 
 
 Pray. 
 
 
 POBTEK. 
 
 
 
 
 Burn it ? 
 
 
 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, 
 
 to ash — 
 
 With every draft 
 As for the books, 
 
 upon poetic cash; 
 you're welcome to them 
 
 [Smiling. 
 
 PORTEK. 
 
 Nay, 
 Such payment is above a poor man's earning. 
 But, sir, I'm thinking, if you can bestow 
 Your books, you must have done with all your 
 learning ? 
 
 \ Falk. 
 
 Whatever can be learnt from books I know. 
 And rather more. 
 
 Porter; 
 
 More ? Nay, that's hard, I doubt! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Well, now be off; the carriers wait without. 
 Just help them load the barrow ere you go. 
 
 [The Porter goes out to the left. 
 
ACTiii] LOVE'S COMEDY 429 
 
 Falk. 
 [Approaching Svanhild, who comes to meet him.] 
 
 One moment's ours, my Svanhild, in the light 
 
 Of God and of the lustrous summer night. 
 
 How the stars glitter thro' the leafage, see, 
 
 Like bright fruit hanging on the ^eat world-tree. 
 
 Now slavery's last manacle I slip. 
 
 Now for the last time feel the wealing wh'ip; 
 
 Like Israel at the Passover I stand. 
 
 Loins girded for the desert, staff in hand. 
 
 Dull generation, from whose sight is hid 
 
 The Promised Land beyond that desert flight. 
 
 Thrall tricked with knighthood, never the more 
 
 knight. 
 Tomb thyself kinglike in the Pyramid, — 
 I cross the barren desert to be free. 
 My ship strides on despite an ebbing sea; 
 But there. the Legion Lie shall find its doom. 
 And glut one deep, dark, hollow-vaulted tomb. 
 
 [A short pause; he looks at her and takes her hand. 
 You are so still! 
 
 Svanhild. 
 
 So happy! Suffer me, 
 O suffer me in silence still to dream. 
 Speak you for me; my budding thoughts, grown 
 
 strong. 
 One after one will burgeon into song. 
 Like lilies in the bosom of the stream. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 O sdy it once again, in truth's pure tone 
 Beyond the fear of doubt, that thou art mine! 
 O say it, Svanhild, say — 
 
430 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Thromng herself on his neck.] 
 
 Yes, I am thine! 
 
 Falk. 
 Thou singing-bird God sent me for my own! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Homeless within my mother's house I dwelt. 
 
 Lonely in all I thought, in all I felt, 
 
 A guest unbidden at the feast of mirth, — 
 
 Accounted nothing — less than nothing — worth. 
 
 Then you appeared ! For the first time I heard 
 
 My own thought uttered in another's word; 
 
 To my lame visions you gave wings and feet — 
 
 You young unmasker of the Obsolete! 
 
 Half with your caustic keenness you alarmed me. 
 
 Half with your radiant eloquence you charmed me. 
 
 As sea-girt forests summon with their spell 
 
 The sea their flinty beaches still repel. 
 
 Now I have read the bottom of your soul. 
 
 Now you have won me, undivided, whole; 
 
 Dear forest, where my tossing billows beat. 
 
 My tide's ait flood and never will retreat! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And I thank God that in the bath of Pain 
 
 He purged my love. What strong compulsion drew 
 
 Me on I knew not, till I saw in you 
 
 The treasure I had blindly sought in vain. 
 
 I praise Him, who our love has lifted thus 
 
 To noble rank by sorrow ,-^licensed us 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 431 
 
 To a triumphal progress, bade us sweep 
 Thro' fen and forest to our castle-keep, 
 A noble pair, astride on Pegasus! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Pointing to the house.] 
 
 The whole house, see, is making feast to-night. 
 There, in their honour, every room's alight, 
 There cheerful talk and joyous song ring out; 
 On the highroad no passer-by will doubt 
 That men are happy where they are so gay. 
 
 [With compassion. 
 Poor sister! — happy in the great world's way! 
 
 Falk. 
 "Poor" sister, say you ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 « 
 
 Has she not divided 
 With kith and kin the treasure of her soul. 
 Her capital to fifty hands confided. 
 So that not one is debtor for the whole ? 
 From no one has she a 1 1 things to receive. 
 For no one has she utterly to live. 
 
 beside m y wealth hers is little worth; 
 
 1 have but one possession upon earth. 
 
 My heart was lordless when with trumpet blare 
 And multitudinous song you came, its king. 
 The banners of my thought your ensign bear. 
 You fill my soul with glory, like the spring. 
 Yes, I must needs thank God, when it is past. 
 That I was lonely till I found out thee, — 
 That I lay dead until the trumpet blast 
 • Waken'd me from the world's frivolity. 
 
432 LOVE'S COMEDY [act in 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes we, who have no friends on earth, we twain 
 Own the true wealth, the golden fortune, — we 
 Who stand without, beside the starlit sea. 
 And watch the indoor revel thro' the pane. 
 Let the lamp glitter and the song resound. 
 Let the dance madly eddy round and round; — 
 Look up, my Svanhild, into yon deep blue, — 
 There glitter little lamps in thousands, too — 
 
 Svanhild. 
 
 And hark, beloved, thro' the limes there floats 
 This balmy eve a chorus of sweet notes — 
 
 Falk. 
 It is for us that fretted vault's aglow — 
 
 Svanhild. 
 It is for us the vale is loud below! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I feel myself like God's lost prodigal; 
 I left Him for the world's delusive charms. 
 With mild reproof He wooed me to His arms; 
 And when I come. He lights the vaulted hall. 
 Prepares a banquet for the son restored. 
 And makes His noblest creature my reward. 
 From this time forth I'll never leave that Light, — 
 But stand its armed defender in the fight; 
 Nothing shall part us, and our life shall prove 
 A song of glory to triumphant love ! 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 433 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 And see how easy triumph is for two, 
 When he's a man — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 She, woman thro' and thro'; — 
 It is impossible for such to fall! 
 
 SvANHILD. 
 
 Then up, and to the war with want and sorrow; 
 This very hour I will declare it all! 
 
 [Pointing to Falk's ring on her finger 
 
 Falk. 
 [Hastily.l 
 
 No, Svanhild, not to-night, 'wait till to-morrow! 
 To-night we gather our young love's red rose; 
 'Twere sacrilege to smirch it with the prose 
 Of common day. 
 
 \The door into the garden-room opens. 
 Your mother's coming! Hide! 
 No eye this night shall see thee as my bride! 
 
 [They go out among the trees by the summer- 
 house. Mrs. Halm and Guldstad come out 
 on the balcony. 
 
 Mbs. Halm. 
 He's really going .'' 
 
 Guldstad. 
 
 Seems so, I admit. 
 
434 LOVE'S COMEDY [actiii 
 
 Stiver. 
 [Coming.] 
 He's going, madam! 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 We're aware of it ! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 A most unfortunate punctilio. 
 He'll keep his word; his stubbornness I know. 
 In the Gazette he'll put us all by name; 
 My love will figure under leaded headings, 
 With jilts, and twins, and countermanded wed- 
 dings. 
 Listen; I tell you, if it weren't for shame, 
 I would propose an armistice, a truce — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 You think he would be willing ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 I deduce 
 The fact from certain signs, which indicate 
 That his tall talk about his Amor's News 
 Was uttered in a far from sober state. 
 One proof especially, if not transcendent. 
 Yet tells most heavily against defendant: 
 It has been clearly proved that after dinner 
 To his and Lind's joint chamber he withdrew. 
 And there displayed such singular demeanour 
 As leaves no question—^ 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 435 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Sees a glimpse of Falk and Svanhild, who separate, 
 Falk going to the background; Svanhild remains 
 standing hidden by the summer-house.] 
 
 Hold, we have the clue! 
 Madam, one word! — Falk does not mean to go. 
 Or if he does, he means it as a friend. 
 
 Stiver. 
 How, you believe then — ? 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 What do you intend ? 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 With the least possible delay I'll show 
 That matters move precisely as you would. 
 Merrily a word in private — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Very good. 
 [They go together into the garden and are seen 
 from time to time in lively conversation. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Descending into the garden discovers Falk, who is 
 standing by the water and gazing over it.] 
 These poets are mere men of vengeance, we 
 State servants understand diplomacy. 
 I need to labour for myself — 
 
 [Seeing Strawman, who enters from the garden- 
 room. 
 
 Well met! 
 
436 LOVE'S COMEDY [actiii 
 
 Stbawman. 
 [On the verandah.] 
 
 He's really leaving! 
 
 [Going down to Stiver. 
 
 Ah, my dear sir, let _ 
 Me beg you just a moment to go in 
 And hold my wife — 
 
 Stiveb. 
 
 I — hold her, sir? 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 I mean 
 In talk. The little ones and we are so 
 Unused to be divided, there is no 
 Escaping — 
 
 [His wife and children appear in the door. 
 Ha! already on my trail. 
 
 Mrs. Strawman. 
 Where are you, Strawman ? 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 [Aside to Stiveb.] 
 
 Do invent some tale. 
 Something amusing — something to beguile! 
 
 Stiveb. 
 
 [Going on to the verandah.] 
 
 Pray, madam, have you read the official charge? 
 A masterpiece of literary style. 
 
 [Takes a book from his pocket. 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 437 
 
 Which I shall now proceed to cite at large. 
 
 [Ushers her politely into the room, and follows 
 himself. Falk com^s forward; he and Straw- 
 man meet; they regard one another a moment 
 in silence. 
 
 Well? 
 
 Well? 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Strawman. 
 Falk! 
 
 Falk. 
 Pastor! 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Are you less 
 Intractable than when we parted ? 
 
 Falk 
 
 Nay, 
 I go my own inexorable way — 
 
 Strawman. 
 Even tho' you crush another's happiness? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I plant the flower of knowledge in its place. 
 
 [Smiling. 
 If, by the way, you have not ceased to think 
 Of the Gazette — 
 
438 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii 
 
 Strawman. 
 Ah, that was all a joke ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes, pluck up courage, that will turn to smoke; 
 I break the ice in action, not in ink. 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 But even though you spare me, sure enough 
 There's one who won't so lightly let me off; 
 He has the advantage, and he won't forego it. 
 That lawyer's clerk — and 'tis to you I owe it; 
 You raked the ashes of our faded flames. 
 And you may take your oath he won't be still 
 If once I mutter but a syllable 
 Against the brazen bluster of his claims. 
 These civil-service gentlemen, they say. 
 Are very potent in the press to-day. 
 A trumpery paragraph can lay me low. 
 Once printed in that Samson-like Gazette 
 That with the jaw of asses fells its foe. 
 And runs away with tackle and with net, 
 Especially towards the quarter day — 
 
 Falk. 
 [Acquiescing.] 
 Ah, were there scandal in the case, indeed — 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 [Despondently.] 
 
 No matter. Read its columns with good heed. 
 You'll see me dffered up to Vengeance. 
 
ACTiii] LOVE'S COMEDY 439 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Whimsically.] 
 
 Nay, 
 To retribution — well-earned punishment. 
 Thro' all our life there runs a Nemesis, 
 Which may delay, but never will relent. 
 And grants to none exception or release. 
 Who wrongs the Ideal ? Straight there rushes in 
 The Press, its guardian with the Argus eye, 
 And the offender suffers for his sin. 
 
 Sthawman. 
 
 But in the name of heaven, what pledge have I 
 Given this " Ideal " that's ever on your tongue ? 
 I'm married, have a family, twelve young 
 And helpless innocents to clothe and keep; 
 I have my daily calls on every side. 
 Churches remote and glebe 'and pasture wide. 
 Great herds of breeding cattle, ghostly sheep — 
 All to be watched and cared for, dipt and fed. 
 Grain to be winnowed, compost to be spread; — 
 Wanted all day in shippon and in stall. 
 What time have I to serve the "Ideal"' withal? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Then get you home with what dispatch you may. 
 Creep snugly in before the winter-cold; 
 Look, in young Norwaj^ dawns at last the day, 
 Thousand brave hearts are in its ranks enroll'd. 
 Its banners in the morning breezes play! 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 And if, young man, I were to take my way 
 With bag and baggage home, with everything 
 
440 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii 
 
 That made me yesterday a little king. 
 Were mine the only volte face to-day? 
 Think you I carry back the' wealth I brought? 
 
 [As Falk is about to answer. 
 Nay, listen, let me first explain my thought. 
 
 [Coming nearer. 
 Time was when I was young, like you, and played 
 Like you, the unconquerable Titan's part; 
 Year after year I toiled and moiled for bread, 
 Which hardens a man's hand, but not his heart. 
 For northern fells my lonely home surrounded. 
 And by my parish bounds my world was bounded. 
 My home — Ah, Falk, I wonder, do you know 
 What home is ? 
 
 Falk. 
 [Curtly.] 
 I have never known. 
 
 Stkawman. 
 
 Just so. 
 That is a home, where five may dwell with ease, 
 Tho' two would be a crowd, if enemies. 
 That is a home, where all your thoughts play free 
 As boys and girls about their father's knee. 
 Where speech no sooner touches heart, than tongue 
 Darts back an answering harmony of song; 
 Where you may grow from flax-haired snowy-polled, 
 And not a soul take note that you grow old; 
 Where memories grow fairer as they fade. 
 Like far blue peaks beyond the forest glade. 
 
 Falk 
 [With constrained sarcasm.] 
 Come, you grow warm — 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 441 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Where you but jeered and flouted. 
 So utterly unlike God made us two! 
 I'm bare of that he lavished upon you. 
 But I have won the game where you were routed. 
 Seen from the clouds, full many a wayside grain 
 Of truth seems empty chaff and husks. You'd soar 
 To heaven, I scarcely reach the stable door, 
 One bird's an eagle born — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And one a hen. 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 Yes, laugh away, and say it be so, grant 
 T am a hen. There clusters to my cluck 
 A crowd of little chickens,-ywhich you want! 
 And I've the hen's high spirit and her pluck. 
 And for my little ones forget myself. 
 You think me dull, I know it. Possibly 
 You pass a harsher judgment yet, decree 
 Me over covetous of worldly pelf. 
 Good, on that head we will not disagree. 
 
 [Seizes Falk's arm and continues in a low tone 
 but with gathering vehemence. 
 You're right, I'm dull and dense and grasping, yes; 
 But grasping for my God-given babes and wife. 
 And dense from struggling blindly for bare life. 
 And dull from sailing seas of loneliness. 
 Just when the pinnace of my youthful dream 
 Into the everlasting deep went down, 
 Another started from the ocean stream 
 Borne with a fair wind onward to life's crown. 
 
442 LOVE'S COMEDY [act hi 
 
 For every dream that vanished in the wave, 
 
 For every buoyant plume that broke asunder, 
 
 God sent me in return a little Wonder, 
 
 And gratefully I took the good He gave. 
 
 For them I strove, for them amassed, annexed, — 
 
 For them, for them, explained the Holy text: 
 
 My clustering girls, my garden of delight! 
 
 On them you've poured the venom of your spite! 
 
 You've proved, with all the cunning of the schools. 
 
 My bliss was but the paradise of fools, 
 
 That all I took for earnest was a jest; — 
 
 Now I implore, give me my quiet breast 
 
 Again, the flawless peace of mind I had — 
 
 Falk. 
 Prove, in a word, your title to be glad ? 
 
 Sthawman. 
 
 Yes, in my path you've cast the stone of doubt. 
 And nobody but you can cast it out. 
 Between my kin and me you've set a bar, — 
 Remove the bar, the strangling noose undo — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You possibly believe I keep the glue 
 Of lies for Happiness's broken jar? 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 I»do believe, the faith your reasons tore 
 To shreds, your reasons may again restore; 
 The limb that you have shatter 'd, you can set; 
 Reverse your judgment, — the whole truth unfold. 
 Restate the case— I'll fly my banner yet — 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 443 
 
 Falk. 
 [Haughtily.] 
 I stamp no copper Happiness as gold. 
 
 Stbawman. 
 [Looking fixedly at him.] 
 
 Remember then that, lately, one whose scent 
 For truth is of the keenest told us this: 
 
 [With uplifted finger. 
 "There rums through all our life a Nemesis, 
 Which may delay, but never will relent." 
 
 [He goes towards the house. 
 
 Stiver. 
 [Coming ovt wiih glasses on, and an open book in his 
 
 hand.] 
 
 Pastor, you must come flying like the blast! 
 Your girls are sobbing — 
 
 The Children. 
 [In the doorway.] 
 Pa! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 And Madam waiting! 
 [Strawman goes in. 
 This lady has no talent for debating. 
 
 [Puts the hook and glasses in his pocket, and 
 approaches Falk. 
 Falk! 
 
 Falk. 
 Yes! 
 
444 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii 
 
 Stiver. 
 I hope you've changed your mind at last? 
 
 Falk. 
 Why so ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 For obvious reasons. To betray 
 Communications made in confidence, 
 Is conduct utterly without defence. 
 They must not pass the lips. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No, I've heard say 
 It is at times a risky game to play. 
 
 Stiver. 
 The very devil! 
 
 Falk. 
 Only for the great. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Zealously.] 
 
 No, no, for all us servants of the state. 
 Only imagine how my future chances 
 Would dwindle, if the governor once knew 
 I keep a Pegasus that neighs and prances 
 In oflSce hours — and such an oflSce, too! 
 From first to last, you know, in our profession, 
 The winged horse is viewed with reprobation: 
 But worst of all would be, if it got wind 
 That I against our primal law had sinn'd 
 By bringing secret matters to the light — 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY MB 
 
 Falk. 
 That's penal, is it — such an oversight ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Mysteriously .] 
 
 It can a servant of the state compel 
 To beg for his dismissal out of hand. 
 On us officials lies a strict command, 
 Even by the hearth to be inscrutable. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 O those despotical authorities. 
 
 Muzzling the — clerk that treadeth out the grain! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Shrugging his shqj^lders.] 
 
 It is the law; to murmur is in vain. 
 
 Moreover, at a moment such as this, 
 
 When salary revision is in train. 
 
 It is not well to advertise one's views 
 
 Of office time's true function and right use. 
 
 That's why I beg you to be silent; look, 
 
 A word ihay forfeit my — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Portfolio ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Officially it's called a transcript book; 
 A protocol's the clasp upon the veil of snow 
 That shrouds the modest breast of the Bureau. 
 What lies beneath you must not seek to know. 
 
446 LOVE'S COMEDY [act m 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And yet I only spoke at your desire; 
 You hinted at your literary crop. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 How should I guess he'd grovel in the mire 
 So deep, this parson perch'd on fortune's top, 
 A man with snug appointments, children, wife. 
 And money to defy the ills of life ? 
 If such a man prove such a Philistine, 
 What shall of us poor copyists be said ? 
 Of me, who drive the quill and rule the line, 
 A man engaged and shortly to be wed, 
 With family in prospect — and so forth? 
 
 [More vehemently. 
 O, if I only had a well-lined berth, 
 I'd bind the armour'd helmet on my head, 
 And cry defiance to united earth! 
 And were I only unengaged like you. 
 Trust me, I'd break a road athwart the snow 
 Of Prose, and carry the Ideal through! 
 
 Falk. 
 To work then, man ! 
 
 Stiver. 
 How? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 You may still do so! 
 Let the world's prudish owl unheeded flutter by; 
 Freedom converts the grub into a butterfly! 
 
ACTiii] LOVE'S COMEDY 447 
 
 Stiver. 
 [Stepping back.] 
 You mean, to break the engagement — ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 That's my mind; — 
 The fruit is gone, why keep the empty rind ? 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Such a proposal's for a green young shoot. 
 
 Not for a man of judgment and repute. 
 
 I heed not what King Christian in his time 
 
 (The Fifth) laid down about engagements broken- 
 
 ofl; 
 For that relationship is nowhere spoken of 
 In any rubric of the code of crime. 
 The act would not be criminal in name. 
 It would in no way violate the laws — 
 
 Falk. 
 Why there, you see then! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [Firmly.] 
 
 Yes, but all the same, — 
 I must reject all pleas in such a cause. 
 Staunch comrades we have been in times of dearth; 
 Of life's disport she asks but little share. 
 And I'm a homely fellow, long aware 
 God made me for the ledger and the hearth. 
 Let others emulate the eagle's flight, 
 Life in the lowly plains may be as bright. 
 
448 LOVE'S COMEDY [actiii 
 
 What does his Excellency Goethe say 
 About the white and shining milky way? 
 Man may not there the milk of fortune skim. 
 Nor is the butter of it meant for him. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Why, even were fortune-churning our life's goal. 
 The labour must be guided by the soul; — 
 Be citizens of the time that is — but then 
 Make the time worthy of the citizen. 
 In homely things lurks beauty, without doubt. 
 But watchful eye and brain must draw it out. 
 Not every man who loves the soil he turns 
 May therefore claim to be another Burns. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 Then let us each our proper path pursue. 
 And part in peace; we shall not hamper you; 
 We keep the road, you hover in the sky. 
 There where we too once floated, she and It 
 But work, not song, provides our daily bread. 
 And when a man's alive, his music's dead. 
 A young man's life's a lawsuit, and the most 
 Superfluous litigation in existence: 
 Withdraw, make terms, abandon all resistance: 
 Plead where and how you will, your suit is lost. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Bold and jconfident, vnth a glance at the summer-house.] 
 
 Nay, the' I took it to the highest place, — 
 Judgment, I know, would be reversed by grace! 
 I know two hearts can live a life complete. 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 449 
 
 With hope still ardent, and with faith still sweet; 
 You preach the wretched gospel of the hour, 
 That the Ideal is secondary! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 No! 
 It's primary: appointed, like the flower. 
 To generate the fruit, and then to go. 
 
 {Indoors, Miss Jay flays and sings: "In the 
 Gloaming." Stiver stands listening in silent 
 emotion. 
 
 With the same melody she calls me yet 
 
 Which thrilled me to the heart when first we met. 
 
 \Lays his hand on Falk's arm, and gazes in- 
 tently at him. 
 
 Oft as she wakens those pathetic notes. 
 From the white keys reverberating floats 
 An echo of the "yes" that made her mine. 
 And when our passions shall one day decline. 
 To live again as friendship, to the last 
 That song shall link that present to this past. 
 And what tho' at the desk my back grow round. 
 And my day's work a battle for mere bread, 
 Yet joy will lead me homeward, where the dead 
 Enchantment will be born again in sound. 
 If one poor bit of evening we can claim, 
 I shall come off undamaged from the game! 
 
 [He goes into the house. Falk turns towards 
 the summer-house. Svanhild comes out, she 
 is pale and agitated. They gaze at each other 
 in silence a moment, and fling themselves 
 impetuously into each other's arms. 
 
450 LOVE'S COMEDY [act in 
 
 Falk. 
 
 O, Svanhild, let us battle side by side! 
 
 Thou fresh glad blossom flowering by the tomb,-^ 
 
 See what the life is that they call youth's bloom! 
 
 There's coflSn-Stench of bridegroota and of bride; 
 
 There's cofEn-stench wherever two go by 
 
 At the street corner, smiling outwardly. 
 
 With falsehood's reeking sepulchre beneath. 
 
 And in their, blood the apathy of death. 
 
 And this they think is living! Heaven and earth. 
 
 Is such a load so many antics worth? 
 
 For such an end to haul up babes in shoals. 
 
 To pamper them with honesty and reason, 
 
 To feed them fat with faith one sorry season. 
 
 For service, after killing-day, as souls ? 
 
 Svanhild. 
 Falk, let us travel ! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Travel ? .Whither, then ? 
 Is not the whole world everywhere the same .'' 
 And does not Truth's own mirror in its frame 
 Lie equally to all the sons of men ? 
 I No, we will stay and watch the merry game, 
 The conjurer's trick, the tragi-comedy 
 Of liars that are dupes of their own lie; 
 Stiver and Lind, the Parson and his dame. 
 See themi, — prize oxen harness'd to love's yoke. 
 And yet at bottom very decent folk! 
 Each wears for others and himself a mask, 
 Yet one too innocent to take to task; 
 Each one, a stranded sailor on a wreck. 
 Counts himself happy as the gods in heaven; 
 
ACT in] LOVE'S COMEDY 451 
 
 Each his own hand from Paradise has driven, 
 Then, splash! into the sulphur to the neck! 
 But none has any inkling where he lies. 
 Each thinks himself a knight of Paradise, 
 And each sits smiling between howl and howl; 
 And if the Fiend come by with jeer and growl. 
 With horns, and hoofs, and things yet more ab- 
 horred, — 
 Then each man jogs the neighbour at his jowl: 
 " Off with your hat, man ! See, there goes the Lopd ! " 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [After a brief, thoughtful silence. \ 
 
 How marvellous a love my steps has led 
 
 To this sweet trysting place ! My life that sped 
 
 In frolic and fantastic visions gay. 
 
 Henceforth shall grow one ceaseless working day! 
 
 O God! I wandered gropmg, — all was dim: 
 
 Thou gavest me light — and I discovered him! 
 
 [Gazing at Falk in love and wonder. 
 Whence is that strength of thine, thou mighty tree 
 That stand 'st unshaken in the wind-wrecked wood. 
 That stand'st alone, and yet canst shelter me — ? 
 
 Falk. 
 God's truth, my Svanhild; — that gives fortitude. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [With a shy glance towards the house.] 
 
 They came like tempters, evilly inclined, 
 Each spokesman for his half of humankind. 
 One asking: How can true love reach its goal 
 When riches' leaden weight subdues the soul? 
 
452 LOVE'S COMEDY [act m 
 
 The other asking: How can true love speed 
 When life's a battle to the death with Need ? 
 
 horrible! — to bid the world receive 
 That teaching as the truth, and yet to live! 
 
 Falk. 
 How if 'twere meant for us ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 For us ?— What, then ? 
 Can outward faith control the wills of men? 
 
 1 have already said: if thou 'It stand fast, 
 I'll dare and suffer by thee to the last. 
 How light to listen to the gospel's voice. 
 
 To leave one's home behind, to weep, rejoice. 
 And take with God the husband of one's choice! 
 
 Falk. 
 [Embracdng her.] 
 
 Come then, and blow thy worst; thou winter weather! 
 We stand unshaken, for we stand together! 
 
 [Mrs. Halm and Guldstad come in from the 
 right in the background. 
 
 Guldstad. 
 [Aside.] 
 Observe! 
 
 [Falk and Svanhild remain standing by the 
 summer-house. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 [Surprised.] 
 Together! 
 
iCTiii] LOVE'S COMEDY 453 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Do you doubt it now ? 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 This is most singular. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 O, I've noted how 
 His work of late absorb'd his interest. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [To herself.] 
 Who would have fancied Evanhild was so sly ? 
 
 [Vivaciously to Guldstad. 
 But no — I can't think. 
 
 Guldstad. 
 
 Put it to the test. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 Now, on the spot ? ■ 
 
 Guldstad. 
 
 Yes, and decisively! 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 [Giving him her hand.] 
 God's blessing with you ! 
 
 Guldstad. 
 [Gravely.] 
 
 Thanks, it may bestead, 
 t [Comes to the front. 
 
454 LOVE'S COMEDY uct in 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 [ioofcin.gr back as she goes towards the house.] 
 
 Whichever way it goes, my child is sped. 
 
 [Goes in. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Approaching Falk.] 
 It's late, I think ? 
 
 Falk. 
 Ten minutes and I go. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 Sufficient for my purpose. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Going.] 
 
 Farewell. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 Remain. 
 
 No. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Shall I ? 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 Until you've answered me. 
 It's time we squared accounts. It's time we three 
 Talked out for once together from the heart. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Taken aback.] 
 We three ? 
 
ACTiii] LOVE'S COMEDY 455 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Yes.^all disguises flung apart. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Suppressing a smile.] 
 O, at your service. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 Very good, then hear. 
 We've been acquainted now for half a year; 
 We've wrangled — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Yes. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 We've been in constant feud; 
 We've changed hard blows enough. You fought — 
 
 alone — , 
 For a sublime ideal; I as one 
 Among the money-grubbing multitude. 
 And yet it seemed as if a chord united 
 Us two, as if a thousand thoughts that lay 
 Deep in my own youth's memory benighted 
 Had started at your bidding into day. 
 Yes, I amaze you. But this hair grey-sprinkled 
 Once fluttered brown in spring-time, and this brow, 
 Which daily occupation moistens now 
 With sweat of labour, was not always wrinkled. 
 Enough; I am a man of business, hence — 
 
 Falk. 
 [With gentle sarcasm.] 
 You are the type of practical good sense. 
 
456 LOVE'S COMEDY [actiii 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 And you are hope's own singer young and fain. 
 
 [Stepping between them. 
 Just therefore, Falk and Syanhild, I am here. 
 Now let us talk, then; for the hour is near 
 Which brings good hap or sorrow in its train. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [In suspense.] 
 Speak, then! 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Smiling.] 
 
 My ground is, as I said last night, 
 A kind of poetry — 
 
 Falk. 
 
 In practice. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Nodding slowly.] 
 
 Right! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 And if one asked the source from which you drew — ? 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Glancing a moment at Svanhild, and then turning again 
 to Falk.] 
 
 A common source discovered by us two. 
 
 Svanhild. 
 Now I must go. 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 457 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 No, wait till I conclude. 
 I should not ask so much of others. You, 
 Svanhild, I've learnt to fathom thro' and thro'; 
 You are too sensible to play the prude. 
 I watched expand, unfold, your little life; 
 A perfect woman I divined within you, 
 But long I only saw a daughter in you; — 
 Now I ask of you — will you be my wife ? 
 
 [Svanhild draws back in embarrassment. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Seizing his arm.] 
 Hold! 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 Patience; she mu£t answer. Put your own 
 Question; — then her decision will be free. 
 
 Falk. 
 I — do you say ? 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Looking steadily at him.'] 
 
 The happiness of three 
 Lives is at stake to-day, — not mine alone. 
 Don't fancy it concerns you less than me; 
 For tho' base matter is my chosen sphere. 
 Yet nature made me something of a seer. 
 Yes, Falk, you love her. Gladly, I confess, 
 I saw your young love bursting into flower. 
 But this young passion, with its lawless power, 
 May be the ruin of her happiness. 
 
458 LOVE'S COMEDY lAct in 
 
 Falk. 
 [Firing up.] 
 You have the face to say so ? 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Quietly.] 
 
 Say now you won her- 
 
 Years give right. 
 
 Falk. 
 [Defiantly.] 
 
 And what then ? 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Slowly and emphatically.] 
 
 Yes, say 
 She ventured in one bpttom to embark 
 Her all, her all upon one card to play, — 
 And then life's tempest swept the ship away. 
 And the flower faded as the day grew dark ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Involuntarily.] 
 She must not! 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Looking ai him with meaning.] 
 
 Hm. So I myself decided 
 When I was young, like you. In days of old 
 I was afire for one. Our paths divided. 
 Last night we met again; — the fire was cold 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 459 
 
 Falk. 
 Last night ? 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Last night. You know the parson's dame — 
 
 Falk. 
 What ? It was she, then, who — 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 Who lit the flame. 
 Long I remembered her with keen regret. 
 And still in my remembrance she arose 
 As the young lovely woman that she was 
 When in life's buoyant spring-time first we met. 
 And that same foolish fire you now are fain 
 To light, that game of hazard you would dare. 
 See, that is why I call to you — beware! 
 The game is perilous! Pause, and think again! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No, to the whole tea-caucus I declared 
 My fixed and unassailable belief — 
 
 \ GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Completing his sentence.] 
 
 That heartfelt love can weather unimpaired 
 Custom, and Poverty, and Age, and Grief. 
 Well, say it be so; possibly you're right; 
 But see the matter in another light. 
 What love is, no man ever told us — whence 
 It issues, that ecstatic confidence 
 
460 LOVE'S COMEDY [act m 
 
 That one life may fulfil itself in two, — 
 To this no mortal ever found the clue. 
 But marriage is a practical concern. 
 As also is betrothal, my good sir — ■ 
 And by experience easily we learn 
 That we are fitted just for her, or her. 
 But love, you know, goes blindly to its fate. 
 Chooses a woman, not a wife, .for mate; 
 And what if now this chosen woman was 
 No wife for you — ? 
 
 Falk. 
 [In suspense.] 
 Well ? 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Shrugging his shoulders.] 
 
 Then you've lost your 'cause. 
 To make a happy bridegroom and a bride 
 Demands not love alone, but much beside. 
 Relations one can meet with satisfaction. 
 Ideas that do not wholly disagree. 
 And marriage ? Why, it is a very sea 
 Of claims and calls, of taxing and exaction. 
 Whose bearing upon love is very small. 
 Here mild domestic virtues are demanded, 
 A kitchen soul, inventive and neat handed. 
 Making no claims, and executing all; — 
 And much which in a lady's presence I 
 Can hardly with decorum specify. 
 
 Falk. 
 And therefore — ? 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 461 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 Hear a golden counsel then. 
 Use your experience; watch your fellow-men, 
 How every loving couple struts and swaggers 
 Like millionaires among a world of beggars. 
 They scamper to the altar, lad and lass, 
 They make a home and, drunk with exultation. 
 Dwell for awhile within its walls of glass. 
 Then comes the day of reckoning; — out, alas. 
 They're bankrupt, and their house in liquidation! 
 Bankrupt the bloom of youth on woman's brow. 
 Bankrupt the flower of passion in her breast, 
 Bankrupt the husband's battle-ardour now. 
 Bankrupt each spark of passion he possessed. 
 Bankrupt the whole estate, below, above, — 
 And yet this broken pair were once confessed 
 A first-class house in all the wares of love' 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Vehemently.] 
 That is a lie! 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 [Unmoved.] 
 
 Some hours ago 'twas true 
 However. I have only quoted you; — 
 In these same words you challenged to the field 
 The "caucus" with love's name upon your shield. 
 Then rang repudiation fast and thick 
 From all directions, as from you at present; 
 Incredible, I know; who finds it pleasant 
 To hear the name of death when he is sick ? 
 Look at the priest! A painter and composer 
 
LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii 
 
 Of tast6 and spirit when he wooed his bride; — 
 What wonder if the man became a proser 
 When she was snugly settled by his side ? 
 To be his lady-love she was most fit; 
 To be his wife, tho' — not a bit of it. 
 And then the clerk, who once wrote clever numbers ? 
 No sooner was the gallant plighted, fixed. 
 Than all his rhymes rah counter and got mixed; 
 And now his Muse continuously slurhbers, 
 Lullabied by the law's eternal hum. 
 Thus you see — [iooAs oi Svanhild. 
 
 Are you cold ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Softly.] 
 
 No. 
 
 Falk. 
 [With forced humour.] 
 
 Since the sum 
 Works out a minus then in every case 
 And never shows a p 1 u s, — why should you be 
 So resolute your capital to place 
 In such a questionable lottery.'' 
 It almpst looks as if you fancied Fate 
 Had meant you for a bankrupt from your birth? 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Looks at him, smiles, and shakes his head.] 
 
 My bold young Falk, reserve a while your mirth. — 
 There are two ways of founding an estate. 
 It may be built on credit — drafts long-dated 
 On pleasure in a never-ending bout. 
 On perpetuity of youth unbated. 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 463 
 
 And permanent postponement of the gout. 
 
 It may be built on lips of rosy red, 
 
 On sparkling eyes and locks of flowing gold, 
 
 On trust these glories never will be shed, 
 
 Nor the dread hour of periwigs be tolled. 
 
 It may be built on thoughts that glow and quiver, — 
 
 Flowers blowing in the sandy wilderness, — 
 
 On hearts that, to the end of life, for ever 
 
 Throb with the passion of the primal "yes." 
 
 To dealings such as this the world extends 
 
 One epithet: 'tis known as "humbug," friends. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 I see, you are a dangerous attorney. 
 
 You — well-to-do, a millionaire, maybe; 
 
 While two broad backs could carry in one journey 
 
 All that beneath the sun belongs to me. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Sharply.] 
 What do you mean ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 That is not hard to see. 
 For the sound way of building, I suppose. 
 Is just with cash— the wonder-working paint 
 That round the widow's batten'd forehead throws 
 The aureole of a young adored saint. 
 
 GuLDSTAD. 
 
 O no, 'tis something better that I meant. 
 'Tis the still flow of generous esteem. 
 
464 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii 
 
 Which no less honours the recipient 
 
 Than does young rapture's giddy-whirling dream. 
 
 It is the feeling of the blessedness 
 
 Of service, and home quiet, and tender ties. 
 
 The joy of mutual self-sacrifice. 
 
 Of keeping watch lest any stone distress 
 
 Her footsteps wheresoe'er her pathway lies; 
 
 It is the healing arm of a true friend. 
 
 The manly muscle that no burdens bend, 
 
 The constancy no length of years decays. 
 
 The arm that stoutly lifts and firmly stays. 
 
 TMs, Svanhild, is the contribution I 
 
 Bring to your fortune's fabric: now, reply. 
 
 [Svanhild makes an effort to speak; Guldstad. 
 lifts his hand to check her. 
 Consider well before you give your voice! 
 With clear deliberation make your choice. 
 
 Falk. 
 And how have you discovered — 
 
 GXJLDSTAD. 
 
 That you love her ? 
 That in your eyes 'twas easy to discover. 
 Let her too know it. [Presses his hand. 
 
 Now I will go in. 
 Let the jest cease and earnest work begin; 
 And if you undertake that till the end 
 You'll be to her no less a faithful friend, 
 A staff to lean on, and a help in need. 
 Than! can be— [Turning to Svanhild, 
 
 Why, good, my offer's nought; 
 Cancel it from the tables of your thought. 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 465 
 
 Then it is I who triumph in very deed; 
 You're happy, and for nothing else I fought. 
 
 [To Falk. 
 And, apropos — just now you spoke of cash. 
 Trust me, 'tis little more than tinsell'd trash. 
 I have no ties, stand perfectly alone; > 
 To you I will make over all I own; 
 My daughter she shall be, and you my son. 
 You know I have a business by the border: 
 There I'll retire, you set your home in order. 
 And we'll foregather when a year is gone. 
 Now, Falk, you know me; with the same precision 
 Observe yourself: the voyage down life's stream, 
 Remember, is no pastime and no dream. 
 Now, in the name of God — make your decision! 
 [Goes into the house. Pause. Falk and Svan- 
 HiLD look shyly at eac\ other. 
 
 You are so pale. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 svanhild. 
 
 And you so silent. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 True. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 He smote us hardest. 
 
 Falk. 
 [To himself.] 
 
 Stole my armour, too. 
 
466 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 What blows he struck! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 He knew to place them well. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 All seemed to go to pieces where they fell. 
 
 [Coming nearer to him. 
 How rich in one another's wealth before 
 We were, when all had left us in despite, 
 And Thought rose upward like the echoing roar 
 Of breakers in the silence of the night. 
 With exultation then we faced the fray, 
 And confidence that Love is lord of death; — 
 He came with worldly cunning, stole our faith. 
 Sowed doubt, — and all the glory pass'd away! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [With wild vehemence.] 
 
 Tear, tear it from thy memory ! All his talk 
 Was true for others, but for us a lie! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Slowly shaking her head.] 
 
 The golden grain, hail-stricken on its stalk. 
 Will never more wave wanton to the sky. 
 
 Falk. 
 [With an outburst of anguish.] 
 Yes, we two, Svanhild — ! 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY- 467 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Hence with hopes that snare! 
 If you sow falsehood, you must reap despair. 
 For others true, you say? And do you doubt 
 That each of them, like us, is sure, alike, 
 That he's the man the lightning will not strike. 
 And n© avenging thunder will find out. 
 Whom the blue storm-cloud, scudding up the sky 
 On wings of tempest, never can come nigh ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 The others split their souls on scattered ends: 
 Thy single love my being comprehends. 
 They're hoarse with yelling in life's Babel din: 
 I in this quiet shelter fold thee in. ' 
 
 SVANHILD.* 
 
 But if love, notwithstanding, should decay, 
 — Love being Happiness's single stay — 
 Could you avert, then, Happiness's fall ? 
 
 Falk. 
 No, my love's ruin were the wreck of all. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 And can you promise me before the Lord 
 That it wilt last, not drooping like the flower. 
 But smell as sweet as now till- life's last hour? 
 
 Falk. 
 [After a short pause.] 
 It will last long. 
 
468 'LOVE'S COMEDY [act in 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [With anguiih.] 
 
 "Long!" "Long!" — Poor starveling word! 
 Can "long" give any comfort in Love's need? 
 It is her death-doom, blight upon her seed. 
 "My faith is, Love will never pass away" — 
 That song must cease, and in its stead be heard : 
 "My faith is, that I loved you yesterday!" 
 
 [As uplifted by inspiration. 
 No, no, not thus our day of bliss shall wane. 
 Flag drearily to west in clouds and rain; — 
 But at high noontide, when it is most bright. 
 Plunge sudden, like a meteor, into night! 
 
 Falk. 
 [In anguish.] 
 What would you, Svauhild ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 We are of the Spring; 
 No Autumn shall come after, when the bird 
 Of music in thy breast shall not be heard, 
 And long not thither where it first took wing. 
 
 , Nor ever Winter shall his snowy shroud 
 Lay on the clay-cold body of our bliss; — 
 
 "This Love of ours, ardent and glad and proud. 
 Pure of disease's taint and age's cloud. 
 Shall die the young and glorious thing it is! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [In deep pain.] 
 
 And far from thee — what would be left of life ? 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 469 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 And near me what were left — if Love depart? 
 
 Falk. 
 A home ! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Where Joy would gasp in mortal strife. 
 
 [Firmly. 
 It was not given to me to be your wife. 
 That is the clear conviction of my heart! 
 In courtship's merry pastime I can lead, 
 But not sustain your spirit in its need. 
 
 [Nearer and with gathering fire. 
 Now we have revell'd out a feast of spring; 
 No thought of slumber's sluggard couch come nigh ! 
 Let Joy amid delirious song make wing 
 And flock with choirs of chemibim on high. 
 And tho' the vessel of our fate capsize, 
 One plank yet breasts the waters, strong to save; — 
 The fearless swimmer reaches Paradise! 
 Let Joy go down into his watery grave; 
 Our Love shall yet in triumph, by God's hand. 
 Be borne from out the wreckage safe to land ! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 O, I divine thee! But — to sever thus! 
 
 Now, when the portals of the world stand wide, — 
 
 When the blue spring is bending over us. 
 
 On the same day that plighted thee my bride! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Just therefore must we part. Our joy's torch fire 
 Will from this moment wane till it expire! 
 
470 LOVE'S COMEDY [act m 
 
 And when at last our worldly days are spent, 
 ■ And face to face with our great Judge we stand. 
 And, as a righteous God, he shall demand 
 Of us the earthly treasure that he leiit — 
 Then, Falk, we cry — past power of Grace to save — ■ 
 "O Lord, we lost it going. to the grave!" 
 
 Falk. 
 [With strong resolve.] 
 Pluck off the ring ! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [With fire.] 
 Wilt thou ? 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Now I divine! 
 Thus and no otherwise canst thOu be mine! 
 As the grave opens into life's Dawn-fire, 
 So Love with Life may not espoused be 
 Till, loosed from longing and from wild desire. 
 It soars into the heaven of memory! 
 Pluck off the ring, Svanhild I 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [In rapture.] 
 
 My task is done! 
 Now I have filled thy soul with song and sun. 
 Forth! Now thou soarest on triumphant wings, — ■ 
 Forth! Now thy Svanhild is the swan that sings! 
 [Takes off the ring and presses a kiss upon it, 
 To the abysmal ooze of ocean bed 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 471 
 
 Descend, my dream! — I fling thee in its stead! 
 
 [Goes a few steps back, throws the ring into the 
 fjord, and approaches Falk with a transfig- 
 ured expression. 
 Now for this earthly life I have foregone thee, — 
 But for the life eternal I have won thee! 
 
 FalS. • 
 [Firmly.] 
 
 And now to the day's duties, each, alone. 
 
 Our paths no more will mingle. Each must wage 
 
 His warfare single-handed, without moan. 
 
 We caught the fevered frenzy of the age. 
 
 Fain without fighting to secure the spoil. 
 
 Win Sabbath ease, and shirk the six days' toil, 
 
 Tho' we are called to strive and to forego. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 But not in sickness. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 No, — made strong by truth. 
 Our heads no penal flood will overflow; 
 This never-dying memory of our youth 
 Shall gleam against the cloud-wrack like the bow 
 Of promise flaming in its colours seven, — 
 Sign that we are in harmony with heaven. 
 That gleam your quiet duties shall make bright — 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 And speed the poet in his upward flight! 
 
472 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii 
 
 / Falk. 
 
 The poet, yes; for poets all men are 
 Who see, thro' all their labours, mean or great, 
 In pulpit or in schoolroom, church or state. 
 The Ideal's lone beacon-splendour flame afar. 
 Yes, upward is my flight; the winged steed 
 Is saddled; I am strong for noble deed. 
 And now farewelW 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 Falk. 
 [Embracing her.] 
 
 One kiss! 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 The last! 
 [Tears herself free. 
 Now I can lose thee gladly till life's past! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Tho' quenched were all the light of earth and sky, — 
 The thought of light is God, and cannot die. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [Withdrawing towards the background.] 
 Farewell ! [Goes further. 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Farewell — gladly I cry again — 
 
 [Waves his hat. 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 473 
 
 Hurrah for love, God's glorious gift to men! 
 
 [The door opens. Falk withdraws to the right; 
 the younger guests come out with merry 
 laughter. 
 
 The Young Girls. 
 A lawn dance ! 
 
 A Young Gibl. 
 Dancing's life! 
 
 Another. 
 
 A garland spread 
 With dewy blossoms fresh on every head! 
 
 Several. 
 Yes, to the dance, the dance! 
 
 All. 
 
 And ne'er to bed ! 
 
 [Stiver comes out with Strawman arTn in arm. 
 Mrs. Strawman and the children follow. 
 
 Stiver. 
 Yes, you and I henceforward are fast friends. 
 
 Strawman. 
 Allied in battle for our common ends. 
 
 Stiver. 
 When the twin forces of the State agree — 
 
 Strawman. 
 They add to all men's — 
 
474 LOVE'S COMEDY [actiii 
 
 Stiver. 
 IHastily.] 
 
 Gains! 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 And gaiety. 
 [Mrs. Halm, Lind, Anna, Guldstad, and 
 Miss Jay, with the other guests, come out. 
 All eyes are turned upon Falk and Svanhild. 
 General amazement when they are seen stand- 
 ing apart. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 [Among the. Aunts, clasping her hands.] 
 What ! Am I awake or dreaming, pray ? 
 
 Lind. 
 [Who has noticed nothing.] 
 
 I have a brother's compliments to pay. 
 
 [He, with the other guests, approaches Falk, hut 
 
 starts involuntarily and steps back on looking 
 
 at him. 
 What is the matter with you ? You're a Janus 
 With double face! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Sm/iling.] 
 
 I cry, like old Montanus,* 
 The earth is flat, Messieurs; — my optics lied; 
 Flat as a pancake — are you satisfied ? 
 
 [Goes quickly out to the right. 
 ' See Notes, page 484. 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 475 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 Refused ! 
 
 The Aunts. 
 Refused ! 
 
 Mks. Halm. 
 
 Hush, ladies, if you please! 
 
 [Goes across to Svanhild. . 
 
 Mrs. Strawman. 
 [To Strawman.] 
 Fancy, refused! 
 
 Strawman. 
 It cannot, be! 
 
 ' Miss Jay. 
 
 It is! 
 
 The Ladies. 
 
 [From mouth to mouth.] 
 
 Refused ! Refused ! Refused ! 
 
 [They gather in little groups about the garden. 
 
 Stiver. 
 [Dumfounded.] 
 
 H e courting ? How ? 
 
 Strawman. 
 
 Yes, think! He laugh'd at us, ha, ha — but now — 
 [ They gaze at each other, speechless. 
 
476 LOVE'S COMEDY [actiii 
 
 Anna. 
 [To LiND.] 
 That's good! He was too horrid, to be sure! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Embracing her.] 
 
 Hurrah, now thou art mine, entire and whole. 
 
 [They go outside into the garden. 
 
 GULDSTAD. 
 
 [Looking back towards Svanhild.] 
 
 Something is shattered in a certain soul; 
 But what is yet alive in it I'll cure. 
 
 Stkawman. 
 
 [Recovering himself and em,bracing Stiver.] 
 
 Now then, you can be very well contented 
 To have your dear ^ancee for a spouse. 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 And you complacently can see your house 
 With little Strawmans every year augmented. 
 
 Stbawman. 
 
 [Rubbing hit hands with satisfaction and looking after 
 
 Falk.] 
 Insolent fellow! Well, it served him right; — 
 Would all these knowing knaves were in his plight! 
 [They go across in conversation; Mrs. Halm 
 approaches with Svanhild. 
 
ACT ml LOVE'S COMEDY 477 
 
 Mus. Halm. 
 [Aside, eagerly.] 
 And nothing binds you ? 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Nothing. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Good, you know 
 A daughter's duty — 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Guide me, I obey. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Thanks, child. [Pointing to Guldstad. 
 
 He is a rich and comme ilfaut 
 Parti; and since there's nothing in the way — 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 Yes, there is one condition I require! — 
 To leave this place. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 
 Precisely his desire. 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 And time — 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 How long ? Bethink you, fortune's calling! 
 
478 LOVE'S COMEDY [act in 
 
 SVANHILD. 
 
 [With a quiet smile.] 
 Only a little; till the leaves are falling. 
 
 [She goes towards the verandah; Mbs. Halm 
 seeks out Guldstad. 
 
 Stbawman. 
 [Among the guests.] 
 
 One lesson, friends, we learn from this example! 
 Tho' Doubt's beleaguering forces hem us in. 
 Yet Truth upon the Serpent's head shall trample. 
 The cause of Love shall win — 
 
 Guests. 
 
 Yes, Love shall win! 
 [They embrace and kiss, pair by pair. Outside 
 to the left are heard song and laughter. 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 What can this mean ? 
 
 Anna. 
 
 The students! 
 
 LiND. 
 
 The quartette. 
 Bound for the mountains;— and I quite forgot 
 To tell them— 
 
 [The Students come in to the left and remain 
 standing at the entrance. 
 
 A Student. 
 [To LiND.] 
 Here we are upon the spot! 
 
ACTiii] LOVE'S COMEDY ^79 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 It's Lind you seek, then ? 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 
 That's unfortunate. 
 He's just engaged — 
 
 J, An- Aunt. 
 
 And so, you may be sure. 
 He cannot think of going on a tour. 
 
 The Students. 
 Engaged ! 
 
 All the Students. 
 
 Congratulations ! 
 
 Lind. « 
 [To his comrades.] 
 
 Thanks, my friends! 
 
 The Student. 
 
 [To his comrades.] 
 
 There goes our whole fish-kettle in the fire! 
 Our tenor lost I No possible amends ! 
 
 Falk. 
 
 [Coming from the right, in summer suit, with student's 
 cap, knapsack and stick.] 
 
 I'll sing the tenor in young Norway's choir! ^, 
 
 The Students. 
 You, Falk! hurrah! 
 
480 LOVE'S COMEDY [act in 
 
 Falk. 
 
 Forth to the mountains, come! 
 As the bee hurries from her winter home! 
 A twofold music in my breast I bear, 
 A cither with diversely sounding strings. 
 One for life's joy, a treble loud and clear. 
 And one deep note that quivers as it sings. 
 
 [To individuals among the Students. 
 You have the palette ? — You the note-book ? Good, 
 Swarm then, my bees, into the leafy wood. 
 Till at nightfall with pollen-laden thigh. 
 Home to our mighty mother-queen we fly! 
 
 [Turning to the company, while the Students 
 depart and the Chorus of the First Act is 
 faintly heard outside. 
 Forgive me my offences great and small, 
 I resent nothing; — [Softly. 
 
 but remember all. 
 
 Sthawman. 
 
 [Beaming with happiness.] 
 
 Now fortune's garden once again is green! 
 My wife has hopes, — a sweet presentiment — 
 
 [Draws him whispering apart. 
 She lately whispered of a glad event^ — 
 
 [Inaudible words intervene. 
 If all goes well ... at Michaelmas . . . thirteen! 
 
 Stiver. 
 
 [With Miss Jay on his arm, turning to Falk, smiles 
 triumphantly, and says, pointing to Stkawman:] 
 
 I'm going to start a household, flush of pelf! 
 
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 481 
 
 Miss Jay. 
 [With an ironical courtesy.] 
 I shall put on my wedding-ring next Yule. 
 
 Anna. 
 [Similarly, as she takes Lind's arm.] 
 My Lind will stay, the Church can mind itself— 
 
 LiND. 
 
 [Hiding his embarrassment.] 
 And seek an opening in a ladies' school. 
 
 Mrs. Halm. 
 I cultivate my Anna's capabilities — 
 
 Guldstad. 
 
 * 
 
 [Gravely.] 
 
 An unromantic poem I mean to make 
 Of one who only lives for duty's sake. 
 
 Falk. 
 [With a smile to the whole company.] 
 
 I go to scale the Future's possibilities! 
 Farewell! [Softly to Svanhild. 
 
 God bless thee, bride of my life's dawn, 
 Where'er I be, to nobler deed thou'lt wake me. 
 
 [Waves his hat and follows the Students. 
 
 SVANHILiD. 
 
 [Looks after him a moment, then says, softly but firmly:] 
 Now over is my life, by lea and lawn, 
 
48^ LOVE'S COMEDY Ucr ii| 
 
 The leaves are falling '.^^now the world may take me. 
 [At this moment the piano strikes up a dance, 
 and champagne corks explode in the back- 
 ground. ' The gentlemen hurry to and fro 
 with their ladies on their arms. Guldstad 
 approaches Svanhild and bows: she starts 
 momentarily, then collects herself 'and gives 
 .him her hand. Mbs. Halm and her family, 
 who have watched the scene in suspense, 
 throng about them with expressions of rap- 
 ture, which are overpowered by the music and 
 the msrrimerd of the dancers in the garden. 
 [But from the country the following chorus rings 
 hud and defiant through the dance music: 
 
 Chorus of Falk and the Students. 
 
 And what if I shattered my roaming bark. 
 It was passing sweet to be roaming! 
 
 , Most ow the Company. 
 Hurrah! 
 
 [Dance and merriment; the curtain falls. 
 
NOTES 
 
 P. 324. William Russel. An original historic tragedy, founded 
 upon the career of the ill-fated Lord William Russell, by An- 
 dreas Munch, cousin of the historian P. A. Munch. It was 
 produced at Christiania in 1857, the year of Ibsen's return from 
 Bergen, and reviewed by him in the Illustrerel Nyhedsblad for 
 that year, Nos. 51 and 52. Professor Johan Storm of Chris- 
 tiania, to whose kindness I owe these particulars, adds that "it 
 is rather a fine play and created a certain sensation in its time; 
 but Munch is forgotten." 
 
 P. 326. A gray old stager. Ibsen's friend P. Botten-Hansen, 
 author of the play Hyldrebryllupet. 
 
 P. 367. A Svanhild, like the old. In the tale of the Vblsungs 
 Svanhild was the daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun, — the Siegfried 
 and Krierahild of the NibelungenUed. The fierce king Jor- 
 munrek, hearing of her matchless beauty, sends his son Randwer 
 to woo her in his name. Randwer is, however, induced to woo 
 her in his own, and the girl approves. Jormunrek thereupon 
 causes Randwer to be arrested and hanged, and meeting with 
 Svanhild, as he and his men ride home from the hunt, tramples 
 her to death under their horses' hoofs. Gudrun incites her sons 
 Sorli and Hamdir to avenge their sister; they boldly enter 
 Jormunrek's hall, and succeed in cutting off his hands and feet, 
 but are themselves' slain by his men. This last dramatic episode 
 is told in the Eddie Hamthismol. 
 
 P. 405. In the remotest east there grows a plant. The germ of 
 the famous tea-simile is due to Fru CoUett's romance, The 
 Official's Daughters. But she exploits the idea only under a 
 single and obvious aspect, viz., the comparison of the tender 
 bloom of love with the precious firstling blade which brews the 
 quintessential tea for the Chinese emperor's table; what the' 
 world calls love being, like what it calls tea, a coarse and 
 flavourless aftercrop. Ibsen has, it will be seen, given a 
 number of ingenious developments to the analogy. I know 
 
 483 
 
484 NOTES 
 
 Fru Collett's work only through the accounts of it given by 
 Brandes and Jaeger. 
 
 P. 448. Another Bums. In the original: Dolen (The Dales- 
 man), that is A. O. Vinje, Ibsen's friend and literary comrade, 
 editor of the journal so-called and hence known familiarly by 
 its name. See the Introduction. 
 
 P. 474. Like Old Montanus. The hero of Holberg's comedy 
 Erasmus Mojinkm/us, who returns from foreign travel to his native 
 parish with the discovery that the world is not flat. Public 
 indignation is aroused, and Montanus finds it expedient to 
 announce that his eyes had deceived him, that "the world is flat, 
 gentlemen." 
 
THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 THE PRETENDERS 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 3 
 
 " THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND " 17 
 
 TraDslated by Wiluam Archek 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO " THE PRETElifDERS " . . . . 141 
 
 " THE PRETENDERS " 153 
 
 Translated by William Archu:b 
 
THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 INTRODUCTION* 
 
 Ibsen himself has told us, in his preface to the sec- 
 ond edition of The Feast at Solhoug, how the reading of 
 the Icelandic family-sagas suggested to him, in germ, the 
 theme of The Vikings at Helgeland. What he first saw, 
 he says, was the contrasted figures of the two women who 
 ultimately became Hiordis and Dagny, together with a 
 great banquet-scene at which an interchange of taunts 
 and gibes should lead to tragic consequences. The con- 
 ception of the two women's characters was certainly not 
 new to him, seeing that a similar contrast presents itself 
 in his very earliest work, Catilina, between the aptly- 
 named Puria and the gentle Aurelia; while even in Lady 
 Inger of Ostrat it reappears, somewhat disguised^ in the 
 contrast between Inger Gyldenlbve and her daughter 
 Elina. While the scheme of The Vikings was still, en- 
 tirely vague, however, fresh influences, both of a personal 
 and of a literary nature, intervened, and, transposing the 
 theme from the purely dramatic into the lyrical key, he 
 produced The Feast at Solhoug. The foster-sisters, 
 Hiordis and Dagny, became the sisters Margit and Signe, 
 and the banquet, instead of being the cuiminating-point 
 of the dramatic action, became its mere background.. 
 
 • Copyright, 1906, by Charles Scribner's Sons. 
 3 
 
4 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 The fact probably is that in 1855 the poet found him- 
 self still unripe for the intense effort of dramatic concen- 
 tration involved in such a work as The Vikings. Proba- 
 bly, too, he knew that neither his actors nor his public at 
 the "Bergen Theatre were prepared to go badk to the 
 primitive austerity of the heroic age, as it was beginning 
 to body itself forth in his mind. The good Bergensers 
 were accustomed either to French intrigue (such as he had 
 given them in Lady Inger) or to Danish lyrical roman- 
 ticism; and he perhaps foresaw that the ruling taste of 
 Bergen would be as hard to contend against as, in the 
 sequel, the ruling taste of Copenhagen actually proved 
 to be. At all events, from whatever mingling of motives, 
 he put the heroic theme aside for two years, while he kept 
 to the key of lyrical romanticism not only in the Feast at 
 Solhoug, written in the summer of 1855, but also in the 
 very feeble Olc^ Liliekrans, conceived much earlier, but 
 written in 1856. Not until he had left Bergen behind 
 him, and returned to Christiania in the summer of 1857, 
 did the 'poet take up again, and rapidly work out, the 
 theme of The Vikings. It is almost inconceivable that 
 only a year should have intervened between it and Olc^ 
 Liliekrans. 
 
 Paul Botten-Hansen, perhaps Ibsen's closest friend of 
 those days, has stated that The Vikings was begun In 
 verse. If so, the metre chosen was probably the twelve- 
 syllable measure of Oehlenschlager's Balder' s Death, sup- 
 posed to represent the iambic trimeter of the Greek 
 dramatists. In an essay On the Heroic Ballad, written in 
 Bergen in the early months of 1857, Ibsen had condemned, 
 as a medium for the treatment of Scandinavian themes. 
 
INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 the iambic decasyllabic (our blank verse) in which Oeh- 
 lenschlager had written most of his plays, and which Ibsen 
 himself had adopted in his early imitation of Oehlen- 
 schlager, The Warrior's Barrow. Blank verse Ibsen re- 
 garded as "entirely foreign" to Norwegian-Danish pros- 
 ody, and, moreover, a product of Christian influences; 
 whereas pagan antiquity, if treated in verse at allj ought 
 to be treated in the pagan measure of the Greeks. At 
 the same time we find him expressing a doubt whether 
 Oehlenschlager's Hakon Jarl might not have been just 
 as poetic in prose as in verse — a doubt which clearly 
 shows in what direction his thoughts were turning. It 
 must be regarded as a great mercy that he abandoned 
 the iambic trimeter, which, in Oehlenschlager's hands, 
 was nothing but an unrhymed Alexaadrine with the 
 caesura displaced. 
 
 This same essay On the Heroic Ballad throws a curious 
 light on the difficulties which occasioned the long delay 
 between the conception and the execution of The Vikings. 
 He lays it down that "the heroic ballad is much better 
 fitted than the saga for dramatic treatment. The saga 
 is a great, cold, rounded, and self-contained epos, essen- 
 tially objective, and exclusive of all lyricism. ... If, 
 now, the poet is to extract a dramatic work from this epic 
 material, he must necessarily bring into it a foreign, a 
 lyrical, element; for the drama is well known to be a 
 higher blending of the lyric and the epos." This "well- 
 known" dogma he probably accepted from the German 
 sestheticians with whom, about this time, he seems to 
 have busied himself. A little further on, he adds that 
 the accommodating prosody of the ballads gives room for 
 
6 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 "many freedoms which are of great importance to dra- 
 matic dialogue," and consequently prophesies a great 
 future for the drama drawn from this source. It was a 
 luckless prophecy. He himself, though apparently he little 
 guessed it, had done his last work in lyrical romance; 
 and though it has survived, sporadically, in Danish and 
 even in German literature, it can count but few master- 
 pieces during the past half-century. Perhaps, however, 
 Hauptmann's Sunken Bell might be taken as justifying 
 Ibsen's forecast.' 
 
 It must have been very soon after this essay was pub- 
 lished (May 1857) that Ibsen discovered how to impose 
 dramatic form upon the epic material of the sagas, without 
 dragging in any foreign lyrical element. He suddenly 
 saw his way, it would seem, to reproducing in dialogue 
 the terse, unvarnished prose of the sagas themselves, 
 eloquent in reticence rather than in rhetorical or lyrical 
 abundance. 
 
 Had he, or had he not, in the meantime read Bjornson's 
 one-act play. Between the Battles ? It was not produced 
 until October 27, 1857, by which time The Vikings must 
 have been almost, if not quite, finished. But Ibsemnay 
 have seen it in manuscript several months earlier, and it 
 may have put him on the track of the form in which to 
 cast his saga-material. The style of The Vikings is in- 
 comparably firmer, purer, more homogeneous and clear- 
 cut than that of Between the Battles; but Bjornson's 
 mediaeval comedietta (it is really little more) may quite 
 
 ' Though he himself wrote no more plays in the key of The Feast 
 at Solhoug, the "accommodating prosody" of the ballads had doubt- 
 less its influence on the metres of Peer Oynt. 
 
INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 well have given Ibsen a valuable impulse towards the 
 adaptation of the saga-style to drama. The point, how- 
 ever, is of little moment. It is much more important to 
 note that while Ibsen was writing The Vikings Bjornson 
 was writing his peasant-idyll Synnove Solbakken; so that 
 these two corner-stones of modern Norwegian literature 
 were laid, to all intents and purposes, simultaneously. 
 
 In an autobiographic letter to Peter Hansen,' written 
 in 1870, Ibsen mentions this play very briefly: "The 
 Vikings at Helgeland I wrote whilst I was engaged to be 
 married. For Hiordis I had the same model as I took 
 afterwards for Svanhild in Love's Comedy." More 
 noteworthy is his preface to a German translation of 
 the. play, published in 1876. It runs as follows: 
 
 " In issuing a German translation of one of my earlier 
 dramatic works, it may not be superfluous to remark that 
 I have taken the material of this play, not from the Nibe- 
 lungenlied, but in part — and in part only — from a kindred 
 Scandinavian source, the Volsung-Saga. More essen- 
 tially, however, my poem may be said to be founded upon 
 the various Icelandic family-sagas, in which it often seems 
 that the titanic conditions and occurrences of the Nihe- 
 luhgehlied and the Volsung-Saga have simply been re- 
 duced to human dimensions. Hence I think we may con- 
 clude that the situations and events depicted in these two 
 documents were typically characteristic of our common 
 Germanic life in the earliest historical times. If this 
 view be justified, it disposes of the reproach that in the 
 .present drama our national mythic world is brought down 
 to a lower plane than that to which it belongs. The 
 ' Correspondence, Letter 74. 
 
8 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 idealised, and in some degree impersonal, myth-figures 
 are exceedingly ill-adapted for representation on the 
 stage of to-day; and, however this may be, it was not my 
 aim to present our mythic world, but simply our life in 
 primitive times." 
 
 The reasoning of this passage does not seem very co- 
 gent; but it expresses clearly enough the design which the 
 poet proposed to himself. Before discussing the merits 
 of the play, however, I may as well complete the outline 
 of its external history. 
 
 Part of that external history is written by Ibsen himself 
 in letters to the Christiania Press of the day. In the 
 autumn of 1857, he presented the play to the Christiania 
 Theatre, then occupied by a Danish company under 
 Danish management. After a long delay, he ascertained 
 that it had been accepted and would be produced in 
 March, 1858. He then proposed to consult with the 
 manager as to the casting of the piece, but found that that 
 functionary had no clear conception of either the plot or 
 the characters, and therefore left him a couple of months 
 in which to study it. At the end of that time the poet 
 again reminded the potentate of his existence, and learned 
 that "since the economic status and prospects of the 
 theatre did not permit of its paying fees for original 
 works," the proposed production could not take place. 
 Ibsen hints that, had the choice been offered him, he 
 would have consented to the performance of the piece 
 without fee or reward. As the choice was not offered 
 him, he regarded the whole episode as a move in the anti- . 
 national policy of the Danish management; and the con- 
 troversy which arose out of the incident doubtless con- 
 
I 
 
 INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 tributed to the nationalisation of the Christiania Theatre 
 — the supersession of Danish by Norwegian managers, 
 actors and authors — which took place during the suc- 
 ceeding decade. 
 
 In the meantime, almost simultaneously with the rejec- 
 tion of the play by the Christiania Theatre, it was rejected 
 by the Royal Theatre in Copenhagen. The director, 
 J. L. Heiberg, was then regarded as an autocrat in the 
 aesthetic world; and his report on The Vikings is now a 
 curiosity of literature. He declared that nothing was so 
 "monotonous, tiresome and devoid of all poetry" as the 
 Icelandic family-sagas; he could not endure their "wild- 
 ness and rawness" on the stage; the saga-style, as repro- 
 duced by Ibsen, seemed to him "mannered and affected"; 
 and he concluded his judgment in these terms: "A Nor- 
 wegian theatre will scarcely take its rise from such experi- 
 ments, and the Danish theatre has fortunately no need 
 for them." 
 
 The play was published in April, 1858, as a supplement 
 to a Christiania illustrated paper, the author receiving an 
 "honorarium" of something less than £1. On' Novem- 
 ber 24, 1858, it was produced at the little " Norwegian 
 Theatre" in Christiania, of which the poet was then 
 director. At the Bergen Theatre it was produced in 1859, 
 at the Christiania Theatre (by that time pretty well Nor- 
 wegianised) in 1861. It did not make its way to Copen- 
 hagen and Stockholm until 1875. In 1876 it was acted 
 at the Court Theatres of Munich and Dresden, and at 
 the Vienna Burgtheater. Thenceforward it was pretty 
 frequently seen on the German stage; but it does not seem 
 to have reached Berlin (Deutsches Theater) until 1890. 
 
10 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 In 1892 it was produced in Moscow. The only pro- 
 duction in the English language of which any account has 
 reached me took place in 1903 at the Imperial Theatre, 
 London, when Miss Ellen Terry appeared as Hiordis and 
 Mr. Oscar Asche as Sigurd. The scenery and dresses 
 were designed by Miss Terry's son, Mr. Gordon. Craig. 
 , It would need not merely an essay, but a volume, to 
 discuss the relation of The Vikings to its mythic material, 
 and to other modern treatments of that material — Fried- 
 rich Hebbel's Die Nibelungen, Richard Wagner's Ring 
 der Nibelungen, etc. The poet's actual indebtedness 
 to the Volsung-Saga is well summarised by Henrik 
 Jaeger in his Life of Ibsen: "Like Sigurd Fafnir'is- 
 bane," he says, "Sigurd Viking has achieved the deed 
 which Hiordis (Brynhild) demands of the man who shall 
 wed her; and, again like his heroic namesake, he has re- 
 nounced her in favour of his foster-brother, Gunnar, him- 
 self taking another to wife. This other woman reveals 
 the secret in the course of an altercation with Hiordis 
 (Brynhild) , who, in consequence of this discovery, brings 
 about Sigurd's death and her own. The reader will ob- 
 serve that we must keep to very general terms if they are 
 to fit both the saga and the drama. Are there any further 
 coincidences? Yes, one. After Gudrun has betrayed 
 the secret, there comes a scene in which she seeks to 
 appease Brynhild, and begs her to think no more of it; 
 then follows a scene in which Sigurd explains to Brynhild 
 how it all happened; and finally a scene in which Bryn- 
 hild goads Gunnar to kill Sigurd. All these scenes have 
 their parallels in the third act of The Vikings; but their 
 order is different, and none of their wording has been 
 
INTRODUCTION 11 
 
 adopted." From the family-sagas, again, not only the 
 stature of the characters, so to speak, but several details 
 of incident and dialogue are borrowed. The boasting- 
 match at Gunnar's feast, which, as we have seen, was one 
 of the first elements of the story to present itself to Ibsen's 
 mind, has many analogies in Icelandic lore. Ornulf's 
 questions as to how Thorolf fell are borrowed from Egils 
 Saga, and so is the idea of his "drapa," or funeral chant 
 over his dead sons. Sigurd and Hiordis are, perhaps, 
 almost as closely related to Kiartan and Gudrun in the 
 Laxdwla Saga as to Sigurd's Fafnir's-bane and Brynhild. 
 Indieed, Ibsen seems to have reckoned too confidently on 
 the unfamiliarity of his public with the stores of material 
 upon which he drew. Not, of course, that there could be 
 any question of plagiarism. The sagas were as legit- 
 imately at Ibsen's service as were Plutarch and tlolinshed 
 at Shakespeare's. But having been himself, as he tells 
 us, almost ignorant of the existence of these sagas until 
 he came across N. M. Petersen's translation of them, he 
 forgot that people who had long known and loved them 
 might resent the removal of this trait and that from 
 its original setting, and might hold it to be, in its new 
 context, degraded and sentimentalised. "It may be," 
 writes H. H. Boyesen, in his generally depreciatory re- 
 marks on the play, "that my fondness for these sagas' 
 themselves prevents me from relishing the modification 
 and remoulding to which Ibsen has subjected them." 
 Dr. Brandes, too, points to a particular instance in which 
 the sense of degradation could not but be felt. The day- 
 dream as to the hair-woven bowstring which Hiordis re- 
 fates to Sigurd in the third act (p. 105) is in itself effective 
 
12 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 enough; but any one who knows the splendid passage in 
 Nials Saga, on which it is founded, cannot but feel that 
 the actual (or at any rate legendary) event is impoverished 
 by being dragged in under the guise of a mere morbid 
 fantasy. 
 
 On the whole, I think Ibsen can scarcely escape the 
 charge of having sentimentalised the sagas in the same 
 Way, though not in the same degree, in which Tenny- 
 son has sentimentalised the Arthurian legends. Indeed, 
 Sigurd the Strong is not without points of resemblance 
 to the Blameless King of the Idylls. But, for my part, I 
 cannot regard this as a very serious charge. The Vikings 
 is the work of a man still young (29) , who had, moreover, 
 developed very slowly. It is still steeped in romanticism, 
 though not in the almost boyish lyricism of its predeces- 
 sors. The poet is not yet intellectually mature — ^very far 
 from it. But here, for the first time, we are unmistak- 
 ably face to face with a great imagination and a specifi- 
 cally dramatic endowment of the first order. The germs 
 of promise discernible in Lady Inger have ripened into 
 rare technical mastery. 
 
 Ibsen was doubtless right in feeling that the super- 
 human figures of the mythical sagas were impossible on 
 the non-musical stage, just as Wagner was right in feeling 
 that the world of myth could be embodied only in an 
 atmosphere of music. The reduction, then, of the Vol- 
 sungjs and Niblungs to the stature of the men of the family- 
 sagas was not only judicious, but necessary. But was 
 it judicious to go to the myth-sagas for the initial idea of 
 •a play which had to be developed in terms of the family- 
 sagas ? Scarcely, I think. The weak points in the struc- 
 
INTRODUCTION 13 
 
 ture of the story are precisely those at which the poet has 
 had to replace supernatural by natural machinery. To 
 slay a dragon and to break through a wall of fire, even 
 with magical aid, are exploits which we can accept, on 
 the mythic plane, sis ti-uly stupendous. But it is im- 
 possible to be really impressed by the slaying of Hiordis's 
 bear, or to share in the breathless admiration with which 
 that achievement is always mentioned. If the bear is to 
 be regarded as a fabulous monster, it might just as well be 
 a dragon at once; if it is to be accepted as a real quad- 
 ruped, the killing of it is no such mighty matter. We feel 
 it, in fact, to be a mere substitute, a more or less ludicrous 
 makeshift. And in the same way, Sigurd's renunciation 
 of Hiordis becomes very difficult to accept when all super- 
 natural agency — magic potion, or other sleight of wiz- 
 ardy — is eliminated. We feel that he behaves like a 
 nincompoop in despairing of winning her. for himself, 
 merely because she does not show an obviously "coming 
 on " disposition, and like an immoral sentimentalist in 
 handing her over to Gunnar. This, to be sure, is the 
 poet's own criticism of his action. The lie which Sigurd 
 and Gunnar conspire to tell, or rather to enact, is the root 
 of the whole tragedy. We have here Ibsen's first treat- 
 ment of the theme with which he is afterwards so much 
 qpncerned — ^the necessity of truth as the basis of every 
 human relation. Gunnar's acquiescence in Sigurd's 
 heroic mendacity is as clearly condemned and punished, 
 as, in Pillars of Society, Bernick's acquiescence in Johan's 
 almost equally heroic self-sacrifice. Both plays convey a 
 warning against excesses of altruism, and show that we 
 have HO right to offer sacrifices which the person benefit- 
 
14 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 ing by them has no right to accept. But to indicate a 
 correct moral judgment of Sigurd's action is not to make 
 it psychologically plausible. We feel, I repeat, that the 
 poet is trying in vain to rationalise a series of actions 
 which are comprehensible only on the supernatural plane. 
 
 This, unreality of plot involved a similar unreality, or 
 at any rate extreme simplicity, of characterisation. All 
 the personages are drawn in large, obvious traits, which 
 never undergo the smallest modification. Sigurd is 
 throughout the magnanimous hero, Dagny the submis- 
 sive, amiable wife, Hiordis the valkyrie-virago, Gunnar 
 the well-meaning weakling, not cowardly but ineflScient. 
 By far the most human and most individual figure is old 
 Ornulf, in whom the spirit of the family-sagas is mag- 
 nificently incarnated. We feel throughout the inexperi- 
 ence of the author, his incuriousness of half-tones in char- 
 acter, his tendency to view human relations and problems 
 in a purely sentimental light. To compare Hiordis with 
 Hedda Gabler, Sigurd with Halvard Solness, is to realise 
 what ap immeasurable process of evolution the poet was 
 destined to go through. Indeed, we as yet seem far 
 enough off even from Duke Skule and Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 But the man of inventive imagination and the man of 
 the theatre are already here in all their strength. What- 
 ever motives and suggestions Ibsen found in the sagas, 
 the construction of the play is all his own and is quite 
 masterly. Exposition, development, the carrying on of 
 the interest from act to act — all this is perfect in its kind. 
 The play is "well-made " in the highest sense of the word. 
 Already the poet shows himself consummate in his art 
 of gradually lifting veil after veil from the past, and mak- 
 
INTRODUCTION 15 
 
 ing each new discovery involve a more or less striking 
 change in the relations of the persons on the stage. But 
 it is not technically alone that the play is great. The 
 whole second act is a superbly designed and modulated 
 piece of drama; and, for pure nobility and pathos, the 
 scene of Ornulf's return — entirely of the poet's own in- 
 vention — is surely one of the greatest things in dramatic 
 literature. It is marvellous that even aesthetic prejudice 
 should have prevented a man like J. L. Heiberg from rec- 
 ognising that he was here in presence of a great poet. 
 The interest of the third act is mainly psychological, and 
 the psychology, as we have seen, is neither very profound 
 nor very convincing. But the fourth act, again, rises to 
 a great height of romantic impressiveness. Whatever 
 hints may have come from the sagas, the picture of Or- 
 nulf's effort of self-mastery is a very noble piec6 of work; 
 and the plunge into supernaturalism at the close, in the 
 child's vision of Asgardsreien, with his mother leading the 
 rout, seems to me an entirely justified piece of imaginative 
 daring. I cannot even agree with Dr. Brandes in con- 
 demning as " Geheimniskramerei " Sigurd's dying revela- 
 tion of the fact that he is a Christian. It seems to me to 
 harmonise entirely with the whole sentimental colouring 
 of the play. The worst flaws I find in this act are the 
 terrible asides placed in the mouths of Gunnar and Dagny 
 after the discovery of Sigurd's death. 
 
 The word Vikings in the title is a very free rendering 
 of Hcermoendene, which simply means "warriors." As 
 "warriors," however, is a colourless word, and as Or- 
 nulf, Sigurd, and Gunnar all are, or have been, actually 
 
16 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 vikings, the substitution seemed justifiable. I would 
 beg, however hopelessly, that "viking" should be pro- 
 nounced so as to rhyme not with "liking" but with 
 "seeking," or at worst with "kicking." Helgeland, it 
 may be mentioned, is a province or district in the north 
 of Norway. 
 
 Ornulf's "drapa" and his snatches of verse are 
 rhymed as well as alliterated in the original. I had the 
 less hesitation in suppressing the rhyme, as it was actually 
 foreign to the practice of the skalds. 
 
THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 (1858) 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 Obnulf op the Fiords, an Icelandic Chieftain. 
 
 Sigurd the Strong, a Sea-King. 
 
 GuNNAR Headman,' a rich yeoman of Helgeland. 
 
 Thouovf, Ormilf's youngest son. 
 
 Dagny, Omvlf's daughter. 
 
 HioBDis, his foster-daughter. 
 
 Kare the Peasant, a Helgeland-man. 
 
 Egjl, Gunnar's son, four years old., 
 
 Ornulp's six" older Sons. - , ■ 
 
 Ornulp's and Sigurd's Men. 
 
 Quests, hoitse-carls, serving-maids, outlaws, etc. 
 
 The action takes place in the time of Erik Blood-axe (about 
 933 a.d.) at, and in the neighbourhood of, Gunnar's house, on the 
 island of Helgeland, in the north of Norway. 
 
 .. Pronunciation of Names: Helgeland =Helgheland; Omulf = 
 Ornoolf; Sigurd = Sigoord; Gunnar = Goonnar; Thorolf = 
 Toorolf; HiBrdis=YSrdeess; Kare=Koare; Egil = Ayghil. 
 The letter "b" as in German. 
 
 'Failing to find a better equivalent for the Korwegian "Herse," 
 I have used the word "Headman" wherever it seemed necessary to 
 give Gunnar a title or designation. He is generally spoken of as 
 "Gunnar Herse " in the Norwegian text; but where it could be done 
 without inconvenience, the designation has here been omitted. 
 
THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 
 
 PLAY IN FOUR ACTS 
 
 ACT FIRST 
 
 A rocky coast, running precipitpusly down to the sea 
 at the back. To the left, a boat-house; to the right, 
 rocks and pinewoods. The masts of two warships 
 can be seen down in the cove. Far out to the right, 
 the sea, dotted wiih reefs and skerries, on which the 
 surf is running high; it is a stormy snow-grey wih- 
 ter-day. 
 
 Sigurd comes up from the ships ; he is clad in a white 
 tunic with a silver belt, a blue cloak, cross-gartered Jiose, 
 untanned brogues, and a steel cap; at his side hangs 
 a short sword. Ornulf comes in sight immediately 
 afterwards, high up among the rocks, clad in a dark 
 lamb-skin tunic with a breastplate and greaves, wool- 
 len stockings, and untanned brogues ; over his shoul- 
 ders he has a cloak of brown frieze, with the hood drawn 
 over his steel cap, so that his face is partly hidden. 
 He is very tall and massively built, with a long white 
 beard, but is somewhat bowed by age; his weapons 
 are a round shield, sword, and spear. 
 
 Sigurd enters first, looks around, sees the boat-shed,, goes 
 quickly up to it, and tries to burst open the door. 
 19 
 
20 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act i 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Appears among the rocks, starts on seeing Sigurd, 
 seems to recognise him, descends and cries:] Give place. 
 Viking! 
 
 SlGTJRD. 
 
 [Turns, lays his hand on his sword, and answers:] 
 'Twere the first time if I did! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Thou shalt and must ! I need the shelter for my stiflf- 
 frozen men. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 And I for a weary woman! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 My men are worth more than thy women! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Then must outlaws be highly prized in Helgeland! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 [Raising his spear.] Thou shalt pay dear for that word ! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Drawing his sword.] Now will it go ill with thee, old 
 man! 
 
 [Ornulf rushes upon him; Sigurd defends himself. 
 
 Dagny and some of Sigurd's men come up from the 
 strand; Ornulf's six sons appear on the rocks to 
 the right. 
 
ACTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 21 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Who is a little in front, clad in a red kirtle, hlue cloak, 
 and fur hood, calls down to the ships:] Up, all Sigurd's 
 men! My husband is fighting with a stranger! 
 
 Obnulf's Sons. 
 Help! Help for our father! [They descend. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [To his men.] Hold! I can master him alone! 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 [To his sons.] Let me fight in peace! [Rushes in 
 upon SiGUHD.] I will see thy blood! 
 
 SiGUBD 
 
 First see thine own! 
 
 [Wounds him in the arm so that his spear falls. 
 
 Oenulf. 
 
 A stout stroke, Viking! 
 
 Swift the sword thou swingest, 
 keen thy. blows and biting; 
 Sigurd's self, the Stalwart, 
 stood before thee shame-struck. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [Smiling.] Then were his shame his glory! 
 
 Oenulf's Sons. 
 
 [With a cry of wonder.] Sigurd himself! Sigurd the 
 Strong! 
 
22 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [acti 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 But sharper was thy stroke that 'night thou .didst 
 bear away Dagny, my daughter. 
 
 '- [Casts his hood back. 
 
 Sigurd and his Men. 
 Omulf of the Fiords! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Glad, yet uneasy.] My father and my brothers! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Stand thou behind me.. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Nay, no need. [Approaching Sigurd.] I no sooner 
 saw thee than I knew thee, and therefore I stirred the 
 strife; I was fain to prove the fame that tells of thee as 
 the stoutest man of his hands in Norway. Hereafter 
 let peace be between us. 
 
 Sigu&d. 
 Best if so it could be. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Here is my hand. Thou art a warrior indeed ; stouter 
 strokes than these has old Ornulf never given or taken. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Seizes his ovfstretched hand.] Let them be. the last 
 strokes given and taken between us two; and be thou 
 thyself the judge in the matter between us. Art willing ? 
 
ACT I] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 23 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 That am I, and straightway shall the quarrel be 
 healed. [To the others.] Be the matter, then, known to 
 all. Five winters ago came Sigurd and Gunnar Head- 
 man as vikings to Iceland; they lay in harbour close 
 under my homestead. Then Gunnar, by force and craft, 
 carried away my foster-daughter, Hiordis; but thou, 
 Sigurd, didst take Dagny, my own child, and sailed with 
 her over the sea. For that I now doom thee to pay 
 three hundred pieces of silver, and thereby shall thy 
 misdeed be atoned. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Fair is thy judgment, Ornulf; the three hundred pieces 
 will I pay, and add thereto a silken cloak fringed with 
 gold. 'Tis a gift from King JEthelstan of England, and 
 better has no Icelander yet borne. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Well said, my brave husband; and my father, I 
 thank thee. Now at last is my mind at ease. 
 
 [She presses her father's and brothers' hands, and 
 talks low to them. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Then thus stands the troth between us; and from 
 this day shall Dagny be to the full as honourably regarded 
 as though she had been lawfully betrothed to thee, with 
 the good will of her kin. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 And in me canst thou trust, as in one of thine own 
 blood. 
 
M THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act i 
 
 Ohnulf. 
 
 That I doubt not, and will forthwith prove thy friend- 
 ship. 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 Ready shalt thou find me; say, what dost thou crave ? 
 
 • Ohnulf. 
 
 Thy help in rede and deed. I have sailed hither to 
 Helgeland to seek out Gunnar Headman and call him to 
 account for the carrying away of Hiordis. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 [Surprised.] Gunnar! 
 
 r 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [In the same tone.] And Hiordis — where are they ? 
 
 Obnulf. 
 In Gunnar's homestead, I trow. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 And it is ? 
 
 Obnulf. 
 Not many bow-shots hence; did ye not know? 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [With suppressed emotion.] No, truly! I have had 
 scant tidings of Gunnar since we sailed from Iceland 
 
ACTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 25 
 
 together. While I have wandered far and wide and 
 served many outland kings, Gunnar ha? stayed at 
 home. We made the land here at daydawn, storm- 
 driven. I knew, indeed, that Gunnar's homestead lay 
 here in the north, but 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [To Ohnulf.] So that errand has brought thee 
 hither ? 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 That and no other. [To Siguhd.] Our meeting is 
 the work of the Mighty Ones above; they willed it so. 
 Had I wished to find thee, little knew I where to seek. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Thoughtfully.] True, true! — But concerning Gun- 
 nar. — tell me, Ornulf, art thou minded to go sharply to 
 work, with all thy might, be it for good or ill ? 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 That must I. Listen, Sigurd, for thus it stands: 
 Last summer I rode to the Council where many hon- 
 ourable men were met. When the Council-days were 
 over, I sat in the hall and drank with the men of 
 my shire, and tl^e talk fell upon the carrying-away 
 of the women; scornful words they gave me, because 
 for all these years I had let that wrong rest unavenged. 
 Then, in my wrath, I swore to sail to Norway, seek 
 out Gunna;r, and crave reckoning or revenge, and never 
 again to set foot in Iceland till my claim was made 
 good. 
 
26 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [acti 
 
 SiGUED. 
 
 Ay, ay, since so it stands, I see well that if need be thfe 
 matter must be pressed home. 
 
 Oenulf. 
 
 It must; but I shall not crave overmuch, and Gunnar 
 has the fame of an honourable man. I am glad, too, 
 that I set forth on this quest; the time lay heavy on me 
 in Iceland; out upon the blue waters had I grown old 
 and grey, and meseemed that I must fare forth once 
 
 again before I ; well well— Bergthora, my good wife, 
 
 was dead these many years; my elder sons sailed on 
 viking- ventures summer by summer; and since Thorolf 
 was growing up 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Joyfully.] Thorolf is with thee? Where is he.'' 
 
 Oenulf. 
 
 On board the ship. [Points towards the background, 
 to the right.] Scarce shalt thou know the boy again, 
 so stout and strong and fair has he grown. He will be a 
 mighty warrior, Sigurd; one day he will equal thee. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Smiling.] I see it is now as ever: Thorolf stands 
 nearest thy heart. 
 
 Oenulf. 
 
 He is the youngest, and like his mother; therefore 
 it is. 
 
ACTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 27 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 But tell me— thy errand to Gunnar — thinkest thou 
 to-day ? 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Rather to-day than to-morrow. Fair amends will 
 content me; should Gunnar say me nay, then must he 
 abide what may follow. 
 
 Kare the Peasant enters hastily from the right; he 
 is clad in a grey frieze cloak and low-brimmed felt hat; 
 he carries in his hand a broken fence-rail. 
 
 Kare. 
 Well met, Vikings 
 
 Ornulf. 
 Vikings are seldom well met. ' 
 
 ICare. 
 
 If ye be honourable men, ye will grant me refuge among 
 you; Gunnar Headman's house-carls are hunting me to 
 slay me. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 Gunnar's ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Then hast thou done him some wrong! 
 
 Kare. 
 
 I have done myself right. Our cattle grazed together 
 upon an island, hard by the coast; Gunnar's men carried 
 
28 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [acti 
 
 off my best oxen, and one of them flouted me for a thrall. 
 Then I raised my sword against him and slew him. 
 
 Ohnulf. 
 That was a lawful deed. 
 
 Kaee. 
 
 But this morning his men came in arms against me. 
 By good hap I heard of their coming, and fled; but my 
 foemen are on my tracks, and short shrift can I look 
 for at their hands. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Ill can I believe thee, peasant! In bygone days I 
 knew Gunnar as I know myself, and this I wot, that 
 never did he wrong to a peaceful man. 
 
 Kare. 
 
 Gunnar has no part in this wrong-doing; he is in the 
 southland; nay, it is Hiordis his wife 
 
 Dagny. 
 Hiordis! 
 
 Ohnulf. 
 
 [To himself.] Ay, ay, 'tis like her! 
 
 Kare. 
 
 I offered Gunnar amends for the thrall, and he was 
 willing; but then came Hiordis, and egged her husband 
 on with many scornful words, and hindered the peace. 
 Since then has Gunnar gone to the south, and to-day 
 
ACT I] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 29 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Looking out to the left.] Here comes a band of way- 
 farers towards the north. Is it not ? 
 
 Kare. 
 It is Gunnar himself! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Be of good heart; I trow I can make peace between 
 you. 
 
 Gunnar Headman, with several men, enters from the 
 left. He is in peaceful attire, wearing a brown tunic, 
 cross-gartered hose, a blue mantle, and a broad hat; 
 he has no weapon but a small axe. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 » 
 
 \Stops in surprise and uncertainty on seeing the knot 
 of men.] Ornulf of the Fiords! Yes, surely ! 
 
 Oknulf. 
 Thou seest aright. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 [Approaching.] Then peace and welcome to thee in 
 my land, if thou come in peace. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 If thy will be as mine, there shall be no strife be- 
 tween us. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Standing forward.] Well met, Gunnar! 
 
30 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act i 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [Gladly.] Sigurd — foster-brother! [Shakes his hand.] 
 Now truly, since thou art here, I know that Ornulf conifes 
 in peace. [To Obnulf.] Give me thy hand, greybeard! 
 Thy errand here in the north is lightly guessed: it con- 
 cerns Hiordis, thy foster-daughter. 
 
 Oknttlf. 
 
 As thou sayest; great wrong was done me when thou 
 didst bear her away from Iceland without my will. 
 
 GUNNAE. 
 
 Thy claim is rightful; what the youth has marred, 
 the man must mend. Long have I looked for thee, 
 Ornulf, for this cause; and if amends content thee, we 
 shall soon be at one. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 So deem I too. Ornulf will not press thee over hard. 
 
 GuNNAE. 
 
 [Warmly.] Nay, Ornulf, didst thou crave her full 
 worth, all my goods were not enough! 
 
 Oenulf. 
 
 I shall go by law and usage, be sure of that. But now 
 another matter. [Pointing to Kake.] Seest thou yon- 
 der man ? 
 
 GuNNAE. 
 
 Kare! [To Oenulf.] Thou kno west, then, that there 
 is a strife between us ? 
 
\ ^ ^ 
 
 ACTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 31 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Thy men have stolen his cattle, and theft must be 
 atoned. 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 Murder no less; he has slain my thrall. 
 
 Kake. 
 Because he flouted me. 
 
 GUNNAH. 
 
 I have offered thee terms of peace. 
 
 Kare. 
 
 But Hiordis had no mind to that, and this morning, 
 whilst thou wert gone, she fell upon me and now hunts 
 me to my death. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 [Angrily.] Sayest thou true ? Has she ? 
 
 Kare. 
 True, every word. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Therefore the peasant besought me to stand by him, 
 and that will I do. 
 
 GunnahI 
 
 [After a moment's thought.] Thou hast dealt hon- 
 ourably with me, Ornulf; therefore it is fit that I should 
 
32 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act i 
 
 yield to thy will. Hear then, Kare: I am willing to let 
 the slaying, of the thrall and the wrongs done toward thee 
 quit each other. 
 
 Kare. 
 
 [Gives GuNNAB Ai« hand.] It is a good oflFer; I am 
 content. 
 
 Ohnulf. 
 
 And he shall have peace for thee and thine ? 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 Peace shall he have, both at home and wheresoever 
 he may go. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [Pointing to the right.] See yonder! 
 
 GUNNAE. 
 
 [Disturbed.] It is Hiordis! 
 
 Obnulf. 
 With armed men! 
 
 Kaee. 
 She is seeking me! 
 
 HiOBDis enters, with a troop of house-carls. She is clad 
 in black, wearing a kirtle, cloak, and hood; the men are 
 armed with swords and axes; she herself carries a 
 light spear. 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 [Stops on entering.] We meet here in force, meseems. 
 
ACTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 83 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 , [Rushes to meet her.] Peace and joy to thee, Hiordis! 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [Coldly.] I thank thee. — 'Twas told me thou wert 
 not far off. [Comes forward, looking sharply at those 
 assembled.] Gunnar, and — Kare, my foeman — Ornulf 
 
 and his sons, and [As she catches sight of Sigurd, 
 
 she starts almost im,perceptibly, is silent a moment, but 
 collects herself and says:] Many I see here who are 
 known to me — but little I know who is best minded tow- 
 ards me. 
 
 Oknulf. 
 
 We are all well-minded towards thee. 
 
 HlOKDIB. 
 
 If so be, thou wilt not deny to give Kare into my hus- 
 band's hands. 
 
 . Ornulf. 
 There is no need. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 There is peace and friendship between us. 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [With suppressed scorn.] Friendship ? Well well, I 
 know thou art a wise man, Gunnar! Kare has found 
 mighty friends, and doubtless thou deem'st it safest 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 Thy taunts avail not! [With dignity.] Kare i? at 
 peace for us! • : > 
 
34 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [acti 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Restraining herself.] Well and good; if thou hast 
 sworn him peace, the vow must be held. 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 [Forcibly, but without anger.] It must and it shall. 
 
 Oknulf. 
 
 [To HiOkdis.] Another pact had been well-nigh made 
 ere thy coming. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [Sharply.] Between thee and Gunnar? 
 
 Ornulf. 
 [Nods.] It had to do with thee. 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 Well can I guess what it had to do with; but this I 
 tell thee, foster-father, never shall it be said that Gunnar 
 let himself be cowed because thou earnest in arms to the 
 isle. Hadst thou come alone, a single wayfarer, to our 
 hall, the quarrel had more easily been healed. 
 
 GuNNAK. 
 
 Ornulf and his sons come in peace. 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 Mayhap; but will it sound otherwise in the mouths 
 of men; and thou thyself, Gunnar, didst show scant trust 
 in the peace yesterday, in sending our son Egil to the 
 
ACT I] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 35 
 
 southland so soon as it was told us that Ornulf s war- 
 ship lay in the fiord. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [To GuNNAB.] Didst thou send thy son to the south ? 
 
 Hi5bdis. 
 
 Ay, that he might be in safety should Ornulf fall 
 upon us. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Scoff not at that, Hiordis; what Gunnar has done may 
 prove wise in the end, if so be thou hinder the pact. 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 Life must take its chance; come what ^ill, I had 
 liever die than skve my life by a shameful pact. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Sigurd makes atonement, and will not be deemed the 
 lesser man for that. 
 
 HiObdis. 
 
 ' Sigurd best knows what his own honour can bear. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 On that score shall I never need reminding. 
 
 HiSrdis. 
 
 Sigurd has done famous deeds, but bolder than all 
 was Gunnar's deed, when he slew the white bear that 
 guarded my bower. 
 
36 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [acti 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 [With an embarrassed glance at Sigukd.] Nay, nay, 
 no more of that! 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 In truth it was the boldest deed that e'er was seen in 
 Iceland; and therefore 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 The more easily can Gunnar yield, and ne'er be held 
 faint-hearted. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 If amends are to be made, amends shall be craved as 
 well. Bethink thee, Gunnar, of thy vow! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 That vow was ill bethought; wilt thou hold me to it? 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 That will I, if we two are to dwell under one roof after 
 this day. Know then, Ornulf, that if atonement is to be 
 made for the carrying away of thy foster-daughter, thou, 
 too, must atone for the slaying of Jokul my father, and 
 the seizing of all his goods and gear. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Jokul was slain in fair fight;* thy kinsmen did me 
 a worse wrong when they sent thee to Iceland and 
 
 : ' i "I SEfilig holmgang.'' The established form of duel in the viking 
 times was to land the combatants on one of the rocky islets or 
 "holms '' that stud the Norwegian coast, and there let them fight it 
 out. Hence "holmgang" = duel. 
 
ACT I] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 37 
 
 beguiled me into adopting^ thee, unwitting who thou 
 wert. 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 Honour, and no wrong, was thy lot in fostering Jokul's 
 daughter. 
 
 Oenulf. 
 
 Nought but strife hast thou brought me, that I know. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Sterner strife may be at hand, if 
 
 Orntjlf. 
 
 I came not hither to bandy words with women! — 
 Gunnar, hear my last word: art willing to make atone- 
 ment.' • 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [To Gunnar.] Think of thy vow! 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [To Ornulf.J Thou hearest, I have sworn a vow, 
 and that must I 
 
 Ornttlf. 
 
 [Irritated.] Enough, enough! Never shall it be said 
 that I made atonement for slaying in fair fight. 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Forcibly.] Then we defy thee and thine. 
 
 ' "At knsEsaette " = to knee-set a cbild, to t'^ke it bii orie's'Mee, 
 an irrevocable form of adoption. - '' i ■■■■.,., t,,:- ■■ ■ ,■. 
 
38 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act r 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [In rising wrath.] And who has the right to crave 
 atonement for Jokul ? Where are his kinsmen ? There 
 is done alive! Where is his lawful avenger? 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 That is Gunnar, on my behalf. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Gunnar! Ay, hadst thou been betrothed to him with 
 thy foster-father's good-will, or had he made atonement 
 for carrying thee away, then were he thy father's lawful 
 avenger; but 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Apprehensive and imploring.] Father, father! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 [Quickly.] Speak it not! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Raising his voice.] Nay, loudly shall it be spoken! 
 A woman wedded by force has no lawful husband! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 [Vehemently.] Ornulf! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [In a wild oviburst.] Flouted and shamed! [In a 
 quivering voice.] This — this shalt thou* come to rue! 
 
ACT I] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 39 
 
 Oknulf. 
 
 [Continuing.] A woman wedded by force is in law 
 no more than a leman! Wilt thou regain thine honour, 
 then must thou 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [Controlling herself.] Nay, Ornulf, I know better 
 what is fitting. If I am to be held as Gunnar's leman 
 — well and good, then must he win me honour by his 
 deeds — by deeds so mighty that my shame shall be 
 shame no more! And thou, Ornulf, beware! Here 
 our ways part, and from this day shall I make war at 
 all times upon thee and thine; thou shalt know no safety 
 
 for life or limb, thou, nor any whom thou [Looking 
 
 fiercely at KAbe.] Kara! Ornulf has stood thy friend, 
 forsooth, and there is peace between us; but I counsel 
 thee not to seek thy home yd; awhile; the man thou 
 
 slewest has many avengers, and it well might befall 
 
 See, I have shown thee the danger; thou must e'en 
 take what follows. Come, Gunnar, we must gird our- 
 selves for the fight. A famous deed didst thou do in 
 Iceland, but greater deeds must be done here, if thou 
 wouldst not have thy — thy leman shrink with shame 
 from thee and from herself! 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 Curb thyself, Hiordis; it is unseemly to bear thee 
 thus! ' 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Imploringly.] Stay, foster-sister— stay; I will ap- 
 pease my father. 
 
40 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act i 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Without listening to heri] Homewards, homewards! 
 Who could have foretold me that I should wear out my 
 life as a worthless lemail ? But if I am to bear this life 
 of shame, ay, even for one day more, then must my hus- 
 band do such a deed — such a deed as shall make his 
 name more famous than all other names of men. 
 
 [Goes out to the right. 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [Softly.] Sigurd, promise me this, that we shall have 
 speech together ere thou leave the land. 
 
 [Goes out with his men to the right. 
 
 [The storm has meanwhile ceased; the midday sun 
 is now visible, like a red disc, low upon the rim of 
 the sea. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 [Threateningly.] Thou shalt pay dear for this day's 
 work, foster-daughter! 
 
 Dagny. 
 Father, father! Surely thou wilt not harm her! 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 Let me be! Now, Sigurd, now can no amends avail 
 between Gunnar and me. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 What thinkest thou to do? 
 
AGTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 41 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 That I know not; but far and wide shall the tale be 
 told how Ornulf of the Fiords came to Gunnar's hall. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 . [With quiet determination.] Maybe; but this I tell 
 thee, Ornulf, thou shalt never bear arms against him so 
 long as I am alive. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 So, so ! And what if nought else be my will ? 
 
 SiGUED. 
 
 It shall not be — let thy will be never so strong. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 [Angrily.] Go then; join thou with my foes; I dare 
 outface the twain of you! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Hear me out, Ornulf; the day shall never dawn that 
 shall see thee and me at strife. There is honourable 
 peace between us, Dagny is dearer to me than weapons 
 or gold, and never shall I forget that thou art her nearest 
 kinsman. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 There I know thee again, brave Sigurd! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 But Gunnar is my foster-brother; we have sworn each 
 other faith and friendship. Both in war and peace have 
 
42 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [acti 
 
 we faced fortune together, and of all men he is dearest 
 to me. Stout though he be, he loves not war; — but as 
 for me, ye know, all of you, that I shrink not from strife; 
 yet here I stand forth, Ornulf , and pray for peace on Gun- 
 nar's behalf. Let me have my will! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 I cannot; I should be a scoff to all brave men, were I 
 to fare empty-handed back to Iceland. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Thou shalt not fare empty-handed. Here in the 
 cove my two long-ships are lying, with all the wealth I 
 have won in my viking- ventures. There are many 
 costly gifts from outland kings, good weapons by the 
 chestful, and other priceless chattels. Take thou one of 
 the ships; choose which thou wilt, and it shall be thine 
 with all it contains — be that the atonement for Hiordis, 
 and let Gunnar be at peace. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 Brave Sigurd, wilt thou do this for Gunnar ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 For a faithful friend, no man can do too- much. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 Give half thy goods and gear! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Urgently.] Take the whole, take both my ships, 
 take all that is mine, and let me fare with thee to Iceland 
 
ACTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 43 
 
 as the poorest man in thy train. What I give, I can 
 win once more; but if thou and Gunnar come to strife, 
 I shall never see a glad day again. Now, Ornulf, thy 
 answer ? 
 
 Cbnulf. 
 
 [Reflecting.] Two good long-ships, weapons, and other 
 
 chattels — too much gear can no man have; but 
 
 \yehemently.] No, no! — Hiordis has threatened me; 
 I will not! I were dishonoured should I take thy 
 goods ! 
 
 I Sigurd. 
 Yet listen 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 No, I say! I must fight for my own right, be my for- 
 tune what it may. 
 
 Kake. 
 
 [Approaching.] Right friendly is Sigurd's rede, but 
 if thou wilt indeed fight thine own battle with all thy 
 might, I can counsel thee better. Dream hot of atone- 
 ment so long as Hiordis has aught to say; but revenge 
 can be thine if thou wilt hearken to me. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 Revenge ? What dost thou counsel ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Evil, I can well see! 
 
 Dagny. 
 [To Ohnulf.] Oh, do not hear him! 
 
44 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act i 
 
 Kare. 
 
 Hiordis has declared me an outlaw; she will set 
 snares for my life; do thou swear to see me scatheless, 
 and this night will I burn Gunnar's hall and all within 
 it. Is that to thy mind ? 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 Dastard ! 
 
 Oeistulf. 
 
 [Quietly.] To my mind ? Knowest thou, Kare, 
 what were more to my mind ? [In a voice of thunder.] 
 To hew off thy nose and ears, thou vile thrall. Little 
 dost thou know old Ornulf if thou thinkest to have his 
 help in such a deed of shame! 
 
 KAre. 
 
 [Who has shrunk backwards.] If thou fall not upon 
 Gunnar he will surely fall upon thee. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 Have I not weapons, and strength to wield them? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [To Kare.] And now away with thee! Thy presence 
 is a shame to honourable men! 
 
 KAre. 
 
 [Going off.] Well well, I must shift for myself as best 
 I may. But this I tell you: if ye think to deal gently 
 with Hiordis, ye will come to rue it. I know her — and I 
 know where to strike her sorest! 
 
 [Goes down towards the shore. 
 
ACTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 45 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 He is hatching some revenge. Sigurd, it must be 
 hindered ! 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 [Angrily.] Nay, let him do as he will; she is worth 
 no better! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 That meanest thou not; bethink thee, she is thy 
 foster-child. 
 
 Oknulf. 
 
 Woe worth the day when I took her under my roof! 
 Jokul's words begin to come true. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 Jokul's? 
 
 OBNUJyF. 
 
 Ay, her father's. When I gave him his death- wound 
 he fell back upon the sward, and fixed his eyes on me 
 and sang: 
 
 Jokul's kin for Jokul's slayer 
 many a woe shall still be weaving; 
 Jokul's hoard whoe'er shall harry 
 thence shall harvest little gladness. 
 
 When he had sung that, he was silent awhile, and laughed ; 
 and thereupon he died. 
 
 SiGDBD. 
 
 Why should'st thou heed his words? 
 
46 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND {act i 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 Who knows? The story goes, and many believe it, 
 that Jokul gave his children a wolf's heart to eat, that 
 they might be fierce and fell; and Hiordis has surely 
 had her share, that one can well see. [Breajcs off on 
 looking out towards the right.] Gunnar! — Do we two 
 meet again! 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [Enters.] Ay, Ornulf, think of me what thou wilt, 
 but I cannot part from thee as thy foe. 
 
 Oknulf. 
 What is thy purpose? 
 
 GUNNAE. 
 
 To hold out the hand of peace to thee ere thou depart. 
 Hear me all of you: go with me to my homestead, and 
 be my guests as long as ye will. We lack not meat or 
 drink or sleeping-room, and there shall be no talk of our 
 quarrel either to-day or to-morrow. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 But Hiordis ? 
 
 GuNNAB. 
 
 Yields to my will; she changed her thought on the 
 homeward way, and deemed, as I did, that we would 
 soon be at one if ye would but be our guests. 
 
 Dagny. 
 Yes, yes; let it be so. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [Doubtfully.] But I know not if 
 
ACT I] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 47 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Gunnar is thy foster-brother; little I know thee if 
 thou say him nay. 
 
 GUNNAH. 
 
 [To Sigurd.] Thou hast been my friend where'er 
 we fared; thou wilt not thwart me now! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 And to depart from the land, leaving Hiordis with hate 
 in her heart — no, no, that must we not! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 I have done Ornulf a great Wrong; until it is made 
 good, I cannot be at peace with myself. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Vehemently.] All else will I do for thee, Gunnar, 
 but not stay here! [Mastering himself.] I am King 
 ^thelstan's sworn henchman, and I must be with him 
 in England ere the winter is out. ' 
 
 Dagny. 
 But that thou canst be, none the less! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 No man can know what lot awaits him; mayhap this 
 is our last meeting, Sigurd, and thou wilt repent that 
 thou didst not stand by me to the end. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 And long will it be ere thou see me glad again, if thou 
 set sail to-day. 
 
48 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act i 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [Determined.] Well, be it so! It shall be as ye will, 
 
 although But no more of that; here is my hand; I 
 
 will stay to feast with thee ahd Hiordis. 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [Shakes his hand.] I knew it, Sigurd, and I thank 
 thee. — And thou, Ornulf, say'st thou likewise ? 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 [Gruffly.] I shall think upon it. Bitterly has Hiordis 
 galled me; — I will not answer to-day. 
 
 GuNNAB. 
 
 It is well, old warrior; Sigurd and Dagny will know 
 how to smooth thy brow. Now must I prepare the 
 feast; peace be with you the while, and well met in my 
 hall. [Goes out by the right. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [To himself.] Hiordis has changed her thought, said 
 he? Little he knows her; I rather deem that she is 
 
 plotting [Interrupting himself and turning to his 
 
 men.] Come, foUo-?^ me all to the ships; good gifts will 
 I choose for Gunnar and his household. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Gifts of the best we have. And thou, father — thou 
 shalt have no peace for me until thou yield thee. 
 
 [She goes with Sigued and his men down towards the 
 shore at the back. 
 
ACTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 49 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 Yield me ? Ay, if there were no women-folk in Gun- 
 
 nar's house, then Oh, if I but knew where to strike 
 
 her! — Thorolf, thou here! 
 
 Thobolf. 
 
 [Who has entered hastily.] As thou seest. Is it true 
 that thou hast met with Gunnar? 
 
 Obnulf. 
 Yes. 
 
 Thobolf. 
 
 And art at strife with him ? 
 
 Obnulf. 
 H'm— with Hiordis, at least. 
 
 Thobolf. 
 Then be of good cheer; soon shalt thou be avenged! 
 
 Obnulf. 
 Avenged? Who shall avenge me? 
 
 Thobolf. 
 
 Listeii: as I stood on board the ship, there came a 
 man running, with a staff in his hand, and called to me: 
 "If thou be of Ornulfs shipfolk, then greet him from 
 Kare the Peasant, and say that now will I avenge the 
 twain of us." Thereupon he took a boat and rowed 
 away, saying as he passed: "Twenty outlaws are at 
 haven in the fiord; with them I fare southward, and ere 
 eventide shall Hiordis be childless. 
 
50 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [acti 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 He said that! Ha, now I understand; Gunijar has 
 sent his son away; Kare is at feud with him 
 
 Thobolf. 
 And now he is rowing southward to slay the boy! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [With sudden resolution.] Up, all! That booty will 
 we fight for! 
 
 Thobolf. 
 What wilt thou do ? 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Leave that to me; it shall be I, and not Kare, that will 
 take revenge! 
 
 Thobolf. 
 I will go with thee! 
 
 ■^ Ornulf. 
 
 Nay, do thou follow with Sigurd and thy sister to 
 Gunnar's hall. 
 
 Thobolf. 
 Sigurd ? Is he in the isle ? 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 There may'st thou see his warships; we are at one — 
 do thou go with him. 
 
 Thobolf. 
 Among thy foes ? 
 
ACT I] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 51 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Go thou to the feast. Now shall Hiordis learn to 
 know old Ornulf! But hark thee, Thorolf, to no one 
 must thou speak of whal I purpose; dost hear? to no 
 one! 
 
 Thorolf. 
 I promise. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 [Takes his hand and looks at him affectionately.] Fare- 
 well then, m^ fair boy; bear thee in courtly wise at the 
 feast-house, that I may have honour of thee. Beware 
 of idle babbling; but what thou sayest, let it be keen as 
 a sword. Be friendly to those that deal with thee in 
 friendly wise; but if thou be taunted, hold not thy peace. 
 Drink not more than thou panst bear; but put not the 
 horn aside when it is offered tt^ee in measure, lest thou 
 be deemed womanish. 
 
 Thorolf. 
 Nay, be at ease! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Then away to the feast at Gunnar's hall. I too will 
 come to the feast, and that in the guise they least think 
 of. [Blithely to the rest.] , Come, my wolf-cubs; be your 
 fangs keen;^-now shall ye have blood to drink. 
 
 [He goes off with his elder sons to the right, at the 
 back. 
 
 Sigurd and Dagny come up from the ships, richly 
 dressed for the banquet. They are followed by two 
 men, carrying a chest, who lay it down and return as 
 they came. 
 
52 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act i 
 
 Thorolf. 
 
 [Looking out after his father.] Now fare they all 
 forth to fight, and I must stay behind; it is hard to be 
 the youngest of the house. — Dagny! all hail and greet- ^ 
 ings to thee, sister mine! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Thorolf! All good powers! — thou art a man, grown! 
 
 Thoholf. 
 That may I well be, forsooth, in five years 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Ay, true, true. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 {Giving him his hand.] In thee will Ornulf find a 
 stout carl, or I mistake me. 
 
 Thorolf. 
 Would he but prove me ! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Smiling^ He spares thee more than thou hast a 
 mind to ? Thou wast ever well-nigh too dear to him. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Whither has he gone ? 
 
 Thorolf. 
 Down to his ship; — go you on; he will follow. 
 
ACT I] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 53 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 I await my men; they are mooring my ships and bring- 
 ing ashore wares. 
 
 Thorolf. 
 
 There must I lend a hand! 
 
 [Goes down towards the shore. 
 
 SiGTJRD. 
 
 [After a moment's reflection.] Dagny, my wife, now 
 that we are alone, I have that to tell thee which must no 
 longer be hidden. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Surprised.] What meanest thou ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 There may be danger in this^aring to Gunnar's hall. 
 
 Dagny. 
 Danger ? Thinkest thou that Gunnar ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Nay, Gunnar is brave and true — yet better had it 
 been that I had sailed from the isle without crossing his 
 threshold. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Thou makest me fear! Sigurd, what is amiss? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 First answer me this: the golden ring that I gave 
 thee, where hast thou it? 
 
54 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [acti 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Shoioing it.] Here, on my arm; thou badest me 
 wear it. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 Cast it to the bottom of the sea, so deep that none 
 may ever set eyes on it again; else may it be the bane of 
 many men! 
 
 Dagnt. 
 
 The ring! 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 [In a low voice.] That night when we bore away the 
 twain of you — dost remember ? 
 
 Dagnt. 
 Do I remember! 
 
 Sigubd. 
 
 It is of that I would speak. 
 
 Dagnt. 
 [In suspense.] What is it ? Say ons 
 
 SlGTJED. 
 
 Thou knowest there had been a feast; thou didst 
 seek thy chamber betimes; but Hicirdis still sat among 
 the men in the feast-hall. The horn went busily round, 
 and many a great vow was sworn. I swore to bear away 
 a fair maid with me from Iceland; Gunnar swore the 
 same as I, and passed the cup to Hiordis. She grasped it 
 and stood up, and vowed this vow, that no warrior should 
 
ACTi] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 55 
 
 have her to wife, save him who should go to her bower, 
 slay the white bear that stood bound at the door, and 
 carry her away in his arms. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Yes, yes; all this I know! 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 All men deemed that it might not be, for the bear 
 was the fiercest of beasts; none but Hiordis might come 
 near it, and it had the strength of twenty men. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 But Gunnar slew it, and by that deed won fame 
 throughout all lands. 
 
 Sigurd., 
 
 [In a low voice.] He won the fame — but — I did the 
 deed! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [With a cry.] Thou! 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 When the men left the feast-hall, Gunnar prayed me 
 to come with him alone to our sleeping-place. Then 
 said he: "Hiordis is dearer to me than all women; 
 without her I cannot live." I answered him: "Then 
 go to her bower; thou knowest the vow she hath sworn." 
 But he said : " Life is dear to him that loves ; if I should 
 assail the bear, the end were doubtful, and I am loath to 
 lose my life, for then should I lose Hiordis too." Long 
 
56 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [acti 
 
 did we talk, and the end was that Gunnar made ready 
 his ship, while I drew my sword, took Gunnar's harness 
 upon me, and went to the bower. 
 
 Dagnt. 
 
 [With pride and joy.] And thou — ^thou didst slay the 
 bear! 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 I slew him. In the bower it was dark as under a 
 raven's wing; Hiordis deemed it was Gunnar that sat 
 by her — she was heated with the mead — she drew a 
 ring from her arm and gave it to me — it is that thou 
 wearest now. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Hesitating.] And thou wast alone that night with 
 Hiordis in her bower? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 My sword lay drawn between us. [A short pause.] 
 Ere the dawn, I bore Hiordis to Gunnar's ship; she 
 dreamed not of our guile, and he sailed away with her. 
 Then went I to thy sleeping-place and found thee there 
 among thy women; — what followed, thou knowest; I 
 sailed from Iceland with a fair maid, as I had sworn, 
 and from that day hast thou stood faithfully at my side 
 whithersoever I have wandered. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Much moved.] My brave husband! And that great 
 deed was thine! — Oh, I should have known it; it could 
 have been none else! Hiordis, that proud and stately 
 
ACT I] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 57 
 
 woman, couldst thou have won, yet didst choose me! 
 Now wouldst thou be tenfold dearer to me, wart thou not 
 already dearer than all the world. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Dagny, my sweet wife, now thou knowest all— that need 
 be known. I could not but warn thee; for that ring — ■ 
 Hiordis must never see it ! Wouldst thou do my will, then 
 cast it from thee^into the depths of the sea. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Nay, Sigurd, it is too dear to me; is it not thy gift? 
 But be at ease, I will hide it from every eye, and never 
 shall I breathe a word of what thou hast told me. 
 
 Thorolf comes up from the ships, with Sigurd's men. 
 
 Thorolf. 
 All is ready for the feast. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Come then, Sigurd — my brave, my noble warrior! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Beware, Dagny — beware ! With thee it rests now 
 whether this meeting shall end in peace or in blood. 
 [Cheerfully to the others.] Away then, to the feast in 
 Gunnar's hall! 
 
 [Goes out with Dagny to the right; the others follow. 
 
ACT SECOND. 
 
 The feast-room in Gunnar's house. The entrance-door 
 is in the back; smaller doors in the side-walls. In 
 front, on the left, the greater high-seat ; opposite 
 it, on the right, the lesser. In the middle of the floor, 
 a wood fire is burning on a built-up hearth. In the 
 background, on both sides of the door, are da/ises for 
 the women of the household. From eaxsh of the high- 
 seats, a long table, with benches, stretches backwards, 
 parallel ivith the wall. It is dark outside ; the fire 
 lights the room,. 
 
 HioBDis and Dagny enter from the right. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Nay, Hiordis, it passes my wit to understand thee. 
 Thou hast shown me all the house; I know not what 
 thing thou lackest, and all thou hast is fair and goodly; 
 — then why bemoatt thy lot? 
 
 HroBDis. 
 
 Cage an eagle and it will bite at the wires, be they of 
 iron or of gold. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 In one thing at least thou art richer than I; thou hast 
 Egil, thy little son. 
 
 58 
 
ACT II] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 59 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 Better no child, than one born in shame. 
 
 Dagny. 
 In shame? 
 
 HiOrdis. 
 
 Dost thou forget thy father's saying ? Egil is the' son 
 of a leman; that was his word. 
 
 Dagnt. 
 
 A word spoken in wrath — why wilt thou heed it ? 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Nay, nay, Obnulp was right; Egil is weak; one can 
 see he is no freeborn child. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Hiordis, how canst thou — — ? 
 
 Hi5rdis. 
 
 [Unheeding.] Doubt not that shame can be sucked 
 into the blood, like the venom of a snake-bite. Of an- 
 other mettle are the freeborn sons of mighty men. I 
 have heard of a queen that took her son and sewed his 
 kirtle fast to his fiesh, yet he never blinked an eye. [With 
 an evil look.] Dagny, that will I try with Egil! 
 
 Dagny. 
 [Horrified.] Hiordis, Hiordis! 
 
60 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actii 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [Laughing.] Ha-ha-ha! Dost fhou think I meant 
 my words? [Changing her tone.] But, believe me or 
 not as thou wilt, there are times when such deeds seem 
 to lure me. Doubtless it is in my blood — for I am of 
 the race of the Jotuns,' they say. — Come, sit thou here, 
 Dagny. Far hast thou wandered in these five long 
 years; tell me, thou hast ofttimes been a guest in the 
 halls of kings ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 • Many a time — and chiefly with ^thelstan of England. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 And everywhere thou hast been held in honour, and 
 hast sat in the highest seats at the board ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 Doubtless. As Sigurd's wife 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 Ay, ay — a famous man is Sigurd— though Gunnar 
 stands above him. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Gunnar ? 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 One deed did Gunnar do that Sigurd shrank from. 
 But let that be! Tell me, when Sigurd went a- viking 
 and thou with him, when thou didst hear the sword- 
 blades sing in the fierce war-game, when the blood 
 ' The giants or Titans of Scandinavian mythology. 
 
ACTii] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 61 
 
 streamed red on the deck — came there not over thee an. 
 untameable longing to plunge into the strife? Didst 
 thou not don harness and take up arms ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 Never! How canst thou think it? . I, a woman! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 A woman, a woman, — who knows what a woman 
 may do! — But one thing thou canst tell me, Dagny, for 
 that thou surely knowest: when a man clasps to his 
 breast the woman he loves — is it true that her blood 
 burns, that her bosom throbs — that she swoons in a 
 strange ecstasy ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Blushing.] Hiordis, how canSt thou ! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Come, tell me ! 
 
 Dagny. 
 Surely thou thyself hast known it. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Ay once, and only once; it was that night when Gun- 
 nar sat with me in my bower; he crushed me in his arms 
 till my byrnie* burst, and then, then ! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Exclaiming.] What! Sigurd- 
 ' Breastplate. 
 
62 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act u 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 Sigurd ? What of Sigurd ? I spoke of Gunnar — 
 that night when he bore me away 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Collecting herself.] Yes, yes, I remember. — I know 
 well 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 That was the only time; never, never again! I 
 deemed I was bewitched; for that Gunnar could so 
 
 clasp a woman [Stops and looks at Dagny.] What 
 
 ails thee ? Methinks thou turnest pale and red ! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Nay, nay! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Without heeding her.] Aye, the merry viking-raid 
 should have been my lot; it had been better for me, and 
 — mayhap for all of us. That were life, full and rich 
 life ! Dost thou not wonder, Dagny, to find me here 
 alive? Art not afraid to be alone with me in the hall, 
 thus in the dark? Deem'st thou not that I must have 
 died in all these years, and that it is my ghost that stands 
 at thy side? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Painfully ill at ease.] Come — let us go — to the others. 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Seizing her by the arm.] No, stay! Seems it not 
 strange to thee, Dagny, that any woman can yet live 
 who has spent here five such nights ? 
 
ACT 11] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 63 
 
 Dagny. 
 Five nights? 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Here in the north each night is a whole winter long. 
 [Quickly and with an altered ex'pression.'\ Yet the place 
 is fair enough, doubt it not! Thou shalt see sights here 
 such as thou hast not seen in the halls of the English 
 king. We shall be together as sisters whilst thou bidest 
 with me; we shall go down to the sea when the storm 
 blows up afresh; thou shalt see the billows racing to the 
 land like^ wild, white-maned horses. And then the 
 whales far out in the offing! TEey"dash one against an- 
 other like steel-clad warriors! Ha, what joy to be a 
 "witch-wife and ride on a whale's back — to speed before 
 the bark, and wake the storm, apd lure men to the deeps 
 with lovely songs of sorcery! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Fie, Hiordis, how canst thou speak such things! 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Canst thou sing sorceries, Dagny ? 
 Dagny. 
 
 \With horror.] I 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 I trow thou canst; how else didst thou lure Sigurd to 
 thee? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Thy speech is shameful; let me go! 
 
64 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act ii 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Holding her back.] Because I jest! Nay, hear me 
 to the end ! Think, Dagny, what it is to sit by the win- 
 dow in the eventide and hear the kelpie ^ wailing in the 
 boat-house; to sit waiting and listening for the dead 
 men's ride to Valhal; for their way lies past us here in 
 the north. They are the brave men that ffeU in fight, the 
 strong women that did not drag out their lives tamely, 
 like thee and me; they sweep through the air in cloud- 
 rack and storm, on their black horses, with jangling 
 bells! [Embraces Dagny, and presses her wildly in her 
 arms^ Ha, Dagny! think of riding the last ride on so 
 rare a steed! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Struggling to escape.] Hiordis, Hiordis! Let me go! 
 I will not hear thee! 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Laughing.] Weak art thou of heart, and easily 
 aflFrighted. 
 
 Gunnar enters from the back, with Sigtikd 
 and Thokolf. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 Now, truly, are all things to my very mind! I have 
 found thee again, Sigurd, my brave brother, as kind and 
 true as of old. I have Ornulf's son under my roof, and 
 the old man himself follows speedily after; is it not so ? 
 
 Thobolf. 
 So he promised. 
 
 ' "Draugen," a vague and horrible sea-monster. 
 
ACTii] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 65 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 Then all I lack is that Egil should be here. 
 
 Thokolf. 
 'Tis plain thou lovest the boy, thou namest him so oft. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Truly I love him; he is my only child; and he is like 
 to grow up fair and kindly. 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 But no warrior. 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 Nay — that thou must not say. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 How couldst thou send him from thee 
 
 GuNNAB. 
 
 Would that I had not! [In an undertone.] But thou 
 knowest, Sigurd, he who loves overmuch, takes not al- 
 ways the manliest part. [Aloud.] I had few men in my 
 house, and none could be sure of his life when it was 
 known that Ornulf lay in the cove with a ship of war. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 One thing I know that ought first to be made safe, 
 life afterwards. i 
 
 Thorolf. 
 And that is ? 
 
66 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act ii 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Honour and fame among men. 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 Hiordis! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 It shall not be said of Gunnar that he has tainted his 
 honour by doing this. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 [Sternly.] No one shall make strife between me and 
 Ornulf's kinsfolk! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [Smiling.] Tell me, Sigurd — can thy ship sail with 
 any wind ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Ay, when 'tis cunningly steered. 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 Good! I too will steer my ship cunningly, and make 
 my way whither I will. [Retires towards the back. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Whispers, uneasily.] Siguid, let us hence — ^this very 
 night ! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 It is too late now; 'twas thou that' 
 
ACTii> THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 67 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Then I held Hiordis dear; but now ; I have heard 
 
 her speak words I shudder to think of. 
 
 Sigurd's men, with other giiests, men and women, house- 
 carls and handmaidens, enter from the hack. 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 [After a short pause, in which greetings and the like 
 are exchanged.] Now to the board! My chief guest, 
 Ornulf of the Fiords, comes later; so Thorolf promises. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [To the house-folk.] Pass the ale and mead around, 
 that hearts may wax merry and tongues may be loosed. 
 
 [GuNNAR leads Sigurd to the high-seat on the right. 
 Dagny .seats herself on Sigurd's right, Hiordis 
 opposite him, at the other side of the same table. 
 Thorolf is in like manner ushered to a place at 
 the other table, and thus sits opposite Gunnar, 
 who occupies the greater high-seat. The others 
 take their seats further back. 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [After a pause in which they drink with each other and 
 converse quietly across the tables.] It seldom chances 
 that so many brave men are seated together, as I see 
 to-night in our hall. It were fitting, then, that we 
 should essay the old pastime: Let each man name 
 the chief of his deeds, that all may judge which is the 
 mightiest. 
 
68 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act n 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 That is an ill custom at a drinking-f east ; 'twill oft 
 breed strife. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Little did I deem that Gunnar was afraid. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 That no one deems; but it were long ere we came to 
 an end, were we all to tell of our deeds, so many as we be. 
 Do thou rather tell us, Gunnar, of thy journey to Biarme- 
 land; 'tis no small exploit to fare so far to the north, 
 and gladly would we hear of it. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 The journey to Biarmeland is chapman's work, and 
 little worthy to be named among warriors. Nay, do 
 thou begin, Sigurd, if thou wouldst not have me deem ■ 
 that thou canst ill endure to hear my husband's praise! 
 Say on; name that one of thy deeds which thou dost 
 prize the highest. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 Well, since thou wilt have it so, so must it be. Let 
 it be told, then, that I lay a- viking among the Orkneys; 
 there came foemen against us, but we swept them from 
 their ships, and I fought alone against eight men. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Good was that deed; but wert thou fully armed? 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 Fully armed, with axe, spear, and sword. 
 
ACT 11] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 69 
 
 HlbRDIS. 
 
 Still the deed was good. Now must thou, my hus- 
 band, name that which thou deemest the chief among 
 thy exploits. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 [Unwillingly.] I slew two berserkers who had seized 
 a merchant-ship; and thereupon I sent the captive chap- 
 men home, giving them their ship freely, without ran- 
 som. The King of England deemed well of that deed; 
 he said that I had done honourably, and gave me thinks 
 and good gifts. 
 
 HiOkdis. 
 
 Nay, truly, Gunnar, a better deed than that couldst 
 thou name. 
 
 GUNNAH*. 
 
 [Vehemently.] I will take praise for no other deed! 
 Since last I fared from Iceland I have lived at peace and 
 traded in merchandise. No word more on this matter! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 If thou thyself wilt hide thy renown, thy wife shall 
 speak. 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 Peace, Hioidis — I command thee! 
 
 HiSrdis. 
 
 Sigurd fought with eight men, being fully armed; 
 Gunnar came to my bower in the black night, slew the 
 
70 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act ii 
 
 bear that had twenty meh's strength, and yet had but a 
 short sword in his hand. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 [Violently agitated.] Woman, not a word more! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Softly.] Sigurd, wilt thou endure ? 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 [Likeioise.] Be still! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [To the company.] And now, ye brave men — which 
 is the mightier, Sigurd or Gunnar? 
 
 Gtjnnah. 
 Silence! 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Loudly.] Speak out; I have, the right to crave judg- 
 ment. 
 
 An Old Man. 
 
 [Among the guests.] If the truth be told, then is 
 Gunnar's deed greater than all other deeds of men; 
 Gunnar is the mightiest warrior, and Sigurd is second 
 to him. 
 
 I Gunnar. 
 
 [With a glance across the table.] Ah, Sigurd, Sigurd, 
 didst thou but know ! 
 
AQTii] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 71 
 
 Dagny. 
 [Softly.] It is too much — friend though he be! 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 Peace, wife! [Aloud, to the others.] Ay, truly, Gun- 
 nar is the most honourable of all men; so would I esteem 
 him to my dying day, even had he never done that deed; 
 for that I hold more lightly than ye. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 There speaks thy envy, Sigurd Viking! 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 [Smiling.] Mightily dost thou mistake. [Kindly, to 
 GuNNAB, drinking to him across the table.] Hail, noble 
 Gunnar; our friendship shall stand fast, whosoever may 
 seek to break it. 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 No one, that I wot of, has such a thought. 
 
 SiGUED. 
 
 Say not so; I could almost think thou hadst bidden 
 us to the feast in the hope to stir up strife. 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 That is like thee, Sigurd ; now art thou wroth that thou 
 may'st not be held the mightiest man at the board! 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 I have ever esteemed Gunnar more highly than 
 myself. 
 
72 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actii 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 Well, well — second to Gunnar is still a good place, and 
 
 [with a side glance at Thoholf] had Ornulf been 
 
 here, he could have had the third seat. 
 
 Thorolf. 
 
 Then Would Jokul, thy father, find a low place indeed; 
 for he fell before Ornulf. 
 
 [The follovnng dispute is carried on, by both parties, 
 with rising and yet. repressed irritation. 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 That shalt thou never say! Ornulf is a skald, and men 
 whisper that he has praised himself for greater deeds 
 than he has done. 
 
 Thorolf. 
 
 Then woe to him who whispers so loudly that it comes 
 
 to my ear! 
 I 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [With a smile of provocation.] Wouldst thou avenge 
 it? 
 
 Thorolf. 
 
 Ay, so that my vengeance should be told of far and 
 wide. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Then here I pledge a cup to this, that thou may'st 
 first have a beard on thy chin. 
 
ACT II] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 73 
 
 Thobolf. 
 
 Even a beardless lad is too good to wrangle with 
 women. 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 But too weak to fight with men; therefore thy father let 
 thee lie by the hearth at home in Iceland, whilst thy 
 brothers went a-viking. 
 
 Thoeolf. 
 
 It had been well had he kept as good an eye on thee; 
 for then hadst thou not left the land an unwedded 
 woman. 
 
 GUNNAR AND SiGURD. 
 
 Thorolf! 
 
 Dagny. 
 [Simultaneously.] Brother! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Softly, and quivering with rage.] Ha! wait — wait! 
 
 Thorolf. 
 
 [Gwes GuNNAR his hand.] Be not wroth, Gunnar; — 
 evil words ctime to my tongue; but thy wife goaded 
 me! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Softly and imploringly.] Foster-sister, by any love 
 thou hast ever borne me, stir not up strife! 
 
74 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act ii 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 [Laughing,] . Jests must pass at the feast-board, if 
 the merriment is to thrive. 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 [Who has been talMng softly to Thobolf.] Thou art 
 a brave lad ! [Hands him a sword which hangs beside 
 the high-seat.] Here, Thorolf, here is a good gift for 
 thee. Wield it well, and let us be friends. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Beware how thou givest away thy weapons, Gunnar; 
 men may say thou dost part with things thou canst not 
 use! 
 
 Thorolf. 
 
 [Who has meanwhile examined the sword.] Thanks 
 for the gift, Gunnar; it shall never be drawn in an 
 unworthy cause. 
 
 HiOkdis. 
 
 If thou wilt keep that promise, then do thou never 
 lend the sword. to thy brothers. 
 
 GuNNAK. 
 
 Hiordis! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [Continuing.] Neither let it hang on thy father's 
 wall; for there it would hang with base men's weapons. 
 
 Thokolf. 
 
 True enough, Hiordis — ^for there thy father's axe and 
 shield have hung this many a year. 
 
ACT II] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 75 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Mastering herself.] That Ornulf slew my father — 
 that deed is ever on thy tongue; but if report speak true, 
 'twas scarce so honourable a deed as thou deemest. 
 
 Thobolf. 
 Of what report dost thou speak ? 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [Smiling.] I dare not name it, for it would make 
 thee wroth. 
 
 Thobolf. 
 
 Then hold thy peace — I ask no better. 
 
 [Turns from her. 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 Nay, why should I not tell it? Is it true, Thorolf, 
 that for three nights thy father sat in woman's weed, 
 doing sorceries with the witch of Smalserhorn, ere he 
 dared face Jokul in fight ? 
 
 [All rise; violent excitement amongi the guests. 
 
 GUNNAB, SiGUBD, AND DaGNY. 
 
 Hiordis ! 
 
 Thobolf. 
 
 [Bitterly exasperated.] So base a lie has no man 
 spoken of Ornulf of the Fiords! Thou thyself hast 
 made it, for no one less venomous than thou could dream 
 of such a thing. The blackest crime a man can do hast 
 thou laid at ray father's door. [Throwing the sword 
 away.] There, Gunnar, take thy gift again; I can take 
 nought from that house wherein my father is reviled. 
 
76 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act u 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 Thorolf, hear me ! 
 
 Thoholf. 
 
 Let me go! But beware both thou and Hiordis; for 
 my father has now in his power one whom ye hold dear- 
 est of all! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [Starting.] Thy father has ! 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 \J^iih a cry.] What sayest thou? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 [Vehemently.] Where is Ornulf ? 
 
 Thorolf. 
 
 [With mocking laughter.] Gone southward — with my 
 brothers. 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 Southward ! 
 
 HiQbdis. 
 [Shrieking.] Gunnar! Ornulf has slain Egil, our son. 
 
 GUNNAH. 
 
 Slain! — Egil slain! Then woe to Ornulf and all his 
 race! Thorolf, speak out;— is this true? 
 
 SlGTTBD. 
 
 Gunnar, Gunnar — hear me! 
 
ACTii] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 77 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Speak out, if thou care for thy Hfe! 
 
 Thokolf. 
 
 Thou canst not fright me! Wait till my father 
 comes; he shall plant a mark of shame over against 
 Gunnar's house! And meanwhile, Hiordis, do thou 
 cheer thee with these words I heard to-day: "Ere 
 eventidfe shall Gunnar and his wife be childless." 
 
 [Goes out by the back. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 [In agony.] Slain — slain! My little Egil slain! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [Wildly.] And thou — dost thou let him go ? Let 
 Egil, thy child, lie unavenged! Then wert thou the 
 dastard of dastards ! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 [As if beside, himself.] A sword — an axe! 'Tis the 
 last tidings he shall ever bring! 
 
 [Seizes an axe from one of the bystanders and rushes 
 out. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [About to follow.] Gunnar, hold thy hand! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [Holding him back.] Stay, stay! The men will part 
 them; I know Gunnar! 
 
 ' [A cry from the crowd, which has flocked together at 
 the main door. 
 
78 THE ,VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act n 
 
 SiGUBD AND DaGNY. 
 
 What is it ? 
 
 A Voice among the Chowd. 
 Thorolf has fallen. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 Thorolf! Ha, let me go! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 My brother! Oh, my brother! 
 
 [SiGUBD is on the point of rushing out. At the same 
 moment, the crowd parts, Gunnab enters, and 
 throws down the axe at the door. 
 
 Gunnab. 
 Now it is done. Egil is avenged! 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 Well for thee if thy hand has not been too hasty. 
 
 Gunnab. 
 Mayhap, mayhap; but Egil, Egil, my fair boy! 
 
 HiObdis. 
 
 No\y must we arm us, and seek help among our friends; 
 for Thorolf has many avengers. 
 
 Gunnab. 
 
 [Gloomily.] He will be his own worst avenger; he 
 will be with rae night and day. 
 
ACT II] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 79 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Thorolf got his reward. Kinsmen must suffer for 
 kinsmen's deeds. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 True, true; but this I know, my mind was lighter 
 ere this befell. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 . The first night' is ever the worst; — when that is over, 
 thou wilt heed it no more. Ornulf has sought his re- 
 venge by shameful guile; he would not come against us 
 in open strife; he feigned to be peacefully minded; and 
 then he falls upon our defenceless child! Ha, I saw 
 more clearly than ye; well I deemed that Ornulf was 
 evil-rhinded and false; good cause had I to egg thee on 
 against him and all his faithless |ribe. 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 [Fiercely.] That hadst thou! My vengeance is poor 
 beside Ornulf's crime. He has lost Thorolf, but he 
 has six sons left — and I have none — none! 
 
 A KOUSE-CARL. 
 
 [Enters liastily from the hack.'] Ornulf of the Fiords 
 is at hand! 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 Ornulf! 
 
 HlORDIS AND SEVERAL MeN. 
 
 ,To arms! to arms! 
 
 ' Literally the " blood-night.'' 
 
80 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act ii 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Simultaneously.] My father! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [As if seized by a foreboding.] Ornulf ! Ah, Gun- 
 
 nar, Gunnar! 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 [Draws his sword^] Up, all my men! Vengeance for 
 Egil's death! 
 
 Ohnulf enters, with Egil in his arms. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 [With a shriek.] Egil! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 I bring you back little Egil. 
 
 All. 
 [One to another.] Egil! Egil alive! 
 
 , Gunnak. 
 
 [Letting his sword fall.] Woe is me: what have I 
 done ? I 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Oh, Thorolf, my brother! 
 
 SlGUKD. 
 
 i knew it! I knew it! 
 
ACT II] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 81 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Setting Egil down.] There, Gunnar, hast thou thy 
 pretty boy again. 
 
 Egil. 
 
 Father! Old Ornulf would not do me ill, as thou 
 saidst when I went away. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [To HiORDis.] Now have I atoned for thy father; 
 now surely there may be peace between us. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [With repressed emotion.] Mayhap! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 [.4* if waking up.] Is it a hideous dream that mad- 
 dens me! Thou — thou bringest Egil home! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 As thou seest; but in truth he has been near his death. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 That I know. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 And hast no more joy in his return? 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 Had he come sooner, I had been more glad. But tell 
 me all that has befallen! 
 
82 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actii 
 
 Oknulf. 
 
 That is soon done. Kare the Peasant was plotting evil 
 against you; with other caitiflfs he fared southward after 
 Egil. 
 
 GUNNAH. 
 
 K&re ! [ To himself. '\ Ha, now I understand Thorolf 's 
 words! 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 His purpose came to my ears; I needs must thwart so 
 black a deed. I would not give atonement for Jokul, 
 and, had things so befallen, I had willingly slain thee, 
 Gunnar, in single combat^yet I could not but save thy 
 child. With my sons, I hasted after Kare. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 [Softly.] An accursed deed has here been done. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 -When I came up with him, Egil's guards lay. bound; 
 thy son was already in thy foemen's hands, and they 
 would not long have spared him. Hot was the fight! 
 Seldom have I given and taken keener strokes; KS,re and 
 two men fled inland; the rest sleep safely, and will be 
 hard to waken. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 [In eager suspense.] But thou — thou, Ornulf ? 
 
 Ornulf. 
 [Darkly.] Six sons followed me into the fight. 
 
ACT 11] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 83 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 [Breathlessly.] But homewards ? 
 
 Obnulf. 
 None. 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 [Appalled.] None! [Softly.] And Thorolf, Thorolf! 
 
 [Deep emotion among the bystanders. Hiordis shows 
 signs of a violent mental struggle; Dagny weeps 
 silently by the high-seat on the right. Sigurd 
 stands beside her, painfully agitated. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [After a short pause.] It is hard for a many-branching 
 pine to be stripped in a single storm. But men die and 
 men Hve; — hand me a horn; I will drink to my sons' mem- 
 ory. [One of SiGTsno's men gives him a horn.] Hail to you 
 where now ye ride, my bold sons ! Close upon your heels 
 shall the bronze-gates not clang, for ye come to the hall 
 with a great following. [Drinks, and hands back the 
 horn.] And now home to Iceland! Ornulf has fought 
 his last fight ; the old tree has but one green branch left, 
 and it must be shielded warily. Where is Thorolf." 
 
 Egil. 
 
 [To his father.] Ay, let me see Thorolf! Ornulf 
 says he will carve me a ship with many, many warriors 
 aboard. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 I praise all good wights that Thorolf came not with us; 
 for if he too — nay, strong though I be, that had been 
 
84 THE VIKINGS AT HELG ELAND [act ii 
 
 too heavy for me to bear. But why comes he not ? He 
 was ever the first to meet his father; for to both of us it 
 seemed we could not hve apart a single day. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Ornulf, Ornulf! 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 [With growing uneasiness.] Ye stand all silent, I mark 
 it now. What ails you? Where is Thorolf .'' 
 
 Dagny. 
 Sigurd, Sigurd — this will be the sorest blow to him! 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [Struggling with himself.] Old man! — No and 
 
 yet, it cannot be hid 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Vehemently.] My son ! Where is he ? 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 Thorolf is slain! 
 
 Ornulf. 
 Slain! Thoroif? Thorolf." Ha, thou liest! 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 I would give my warmest heart-blood to know him 
 alive ! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [To Ornulf.] Thorolf was himself to blame for what 
 befell; with dark sayings he gave us to wit that thou hadst 
 fallen upon Egil and slain him; — ^we had parted half 
 
ACT II] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 85 
 
 in wrath, and thou hast ere now brought death among my 
 kindred. And moreover — Thorolf bore himself at the 
 feast hke a wanton boy; he brooked not our jesting, and 
 spoke many evil things. Not till then did Gunnar wax 
 wroth; not till then did he raise his hand upon thy son; 
 and well I wot that he had good and lawful ground for 
 that deed. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Calmly.] Well may we see that thou art a woman, 
 for thou usest many words. To what end ? If Thorold 
 is slain, then is his saga over. 
 
 Egil. 
 If Thorold is slain, I shall have no warriors. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Nay, Egil — we have lost our warriors now, both thou 
 and I. [Ta Hiordis.] Thy father sang: 
 
 Jokul's kin for Jokul's slayer 
 many a woe shall still be weaving. 
 
 Well hast thou wrought that his words should come true. 
 [Pauses a moment, then turns to one of the men.] Where 
 got he his death-wound ? 
 
 The Man. 
 
 Right across his brow. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Pleased.] Ha; that is an honourable wound; he did 
 not turn his back. But fell he sideways, or in toward 
 Gunnar's feet ? 
 
86 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act ii 
 
 The Man. 
 Half sideways and half toward Gunnar. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 That bodes but half vengeance; well well, — we shall 
 see! 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [Approaching.] Orniilf , I know well that all my goods 
 were naught against thy loss; but crave of me what 
 thou wilt 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 [Sternly interrupting him.] Give me Thorolf's body, 
 and let me go ! Where lies he ? 
 
 [GuNNAB points silently to the back. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 [Takes a step or two, but turns and says in a voice of 
 thunder to Sigubd, Dagny, and^others liaho are making 
 as though to follow him, sorrowing.] Stay! Think ye 
 Ornulf will be followed by a train of mourners, like a 
 whimpering woman ? Stay, I say ! — I Can bear my 
 ThoEolf alone. [With calm strength.] Sonless I go; but 
 none shall say that he saw me bowed. 
 
 [He goes slowly out. 
 
 HiObdis. 
 
 [With forced laughter.] Ay, let him go as he will; we 
 shall scarce need many men to face him should he come 
 with strife again ! Now, Dagny— I wot it is the last time 
 thy father shall sail from Iceland on such a quest! 
 
ACT II] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 87 
 
 Sigurd. 
 [Ip,dignant.] Oh, shame! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Likewise.] And thou canst mock him — mock him, 
 after all that has befallen ? 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 A deed once done, 'tis wise to praise it. This morning 
 I swore hate and vengeance against Ornulf ; — the slaying 
 of Jokul I might have forgotten — all, save that he cast 
 shame upon my lot. He called me a leman; if it be so, 
 it shames me not; for Gunnar is mightier now than thy 
 father; he is greater and more famous than Sigurd, thine 
 own husband! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [In wild indignation.] There thou errest, Hiordis — 
 and even now shall all men know that thoudwellest 
 under a coward's roof! 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [Vehemently.] Dagny, beware! 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 A coward! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 [With scornful laughter.] Thou pratest senselessly. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 It shall no longer be hidden ; I held my peace till thou 
 didst mock at my father and my dead brothers; I held 
 my peace while Ornulf was here, lest he should learn that 
 
88 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actii 
 
 Thorolf fell by a dastard's hand. But now — praise Gun- 
 nar nevermore for that deed in Iceland; for Gunnar is a 
 coward! The sword that lay drawn between thee and 
 the bear-slayer hangs at my husband's side — the ring 
 thou didst take from thy arm thou gavest to Sigurd. 
 [Takes it off and holds it aloft.] Behold it! 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [WUdly.] Sigurd. 
 
 The Crowd. 
 Sigurd! Sigurd did the- deed! 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 [Quivering with agitation.] He! he! — Gunnar, is this 
 true? 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [With lofty calm.] It is all true, save only that I am a 
 coward; no coward or dastard am I. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [Moved.] That art thou not, Gunnar ! That hast thou 
 never been! [To the rest.] Away, my men! Away from 
 here! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [At the door, to Hiobdis.] Who is now the mightiest 
 man at the board — my husband, or thine ? 
 
 [She goes out with Sigubd and his men. 
 
 HiOedis. 
 
 [To herself] Now have I but one thing left to do — 
 but one deed to think upon : Sigurd or I must die ! 
 
ACT THIRD. 
 
 The hall in Gunnar's house. It is day. 
 
 HioHDis sits on. the bench in front of the smaller high-seat, 
 
 busy twisting a how-string; on the table lie a how and 
 
 some arrows. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [Pulling at. the bow-string.] It is tough and strong; 
 [With a glance at the arrows] the shaft is both keen and 
 well- weighted— [Leis her hands fall in her lap] but where 
 
 is the hand that . [Vehemently.] Flouted, flouted 
 
 by him — by Sigurd ! I must hate him more than others, 
 that can I well mark; but many days shall not pass ere I 
 
 have [Meditating.] Ay, but the arm, the arm that 
 
 shall do the deed ? 
 
 GuNNAB enters, silent and thoughtful, from the back. 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [After a short pause.] How goes it with thee, my hus- 
 band P 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Ill, Hiordis; I cannot away with that deed of yesterday; 
 it lies heavy on my heart. 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 4 
 
 Do as I do; get thee some work to busy thee. 
 
 89 
 
90 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act iii 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 Doubtless I must. 
 
 [A pause; Gxjnnab paces up and down the hall, 
 notices what Hiordis is doing, and approaches her. 
 
 Gunnae. 
 What dost thou there ? 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [Without looking up.] I am twisting a bow-string; 
 canst thou not see ? 
 
 Gunnah. 
 
 A bow-string — of thine own hair ? 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [Smiling.] Great deeds are born with every hour in 
 these times; yesterday thou didst slay my foster-brother, 
 and I have woven this since daybreak. 
 
 Gunnah. 
 Hiordis, Hiordis! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 [Looking up.] What is amiss ? 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Where wast thou last night ? 
 
 Hiordis. 
 Last night ? 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 91 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Thou wast not in the sleeping-room. 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 Know'st thou that ? 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 I could not sleep; I tossed in restless dreams of that — 
 
 that which befell Thorolf. I dreamt that he came 
 
 No matter; I wakened. Then methought there sounded 
 a strange, fair song through all the house; I arose; I 
 pushed the door ajar; here I saw thee sitting by the log- 
 fire — it burned blue and red — ^fixing arrow-heads, and 
 singing sorceries over them. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 I did what was needful; for sjrong is the breast that 
 must be pierced this day. 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 I understand thee well : thou wouldst have Sigurd slain. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Mayhap. 
 
 GUNNAE. 
 
 Thou shalt never have thy will. I will keep peace with 
 Sigurd, howe'er thou goad me. 
 
 HiQrdis. 
 [Smiling.] Dost think so ? 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 I know it! 
 
92 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiii 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [Hands him the how-string -1 Tell me, Gunnar — canst 
 loose this knot? 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [Tries iti\ Nay, it is too cunningly and firmly woven. 
 
 HiOkdis. 
 
 [Rising.'] The Norns' weave yet more cunningly; their 
 web is still harder to unravel. 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 Dark are the ways of the Mighty Ones; — what know 
 we of them, thou or I ? 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 Yet one thing. I know surely: that to both of us must 
 Sigurd's life be baleful. 
 
 [A pause; Gunnak stands lost in thought. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Who has been silently watching him.] Of what think- 
 est thou ? 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 Of a dream I had of late. Methought I had done the 
 deed thou era vest; Sigurd lay slain on the earth; thou 
 didst stand beside him, and thy face was wondrous pale. 
 Then said I: "Art thou glad, now that I have done thy 
 will?" But thou didst laugh and answer: ."Blither 
 should I be didst thou, Gunnar, lie there in Sigurd's 
 etead." 
 
 * The " Nornir " were the Fates of northern mythology. 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 93 
 
 HlORDlS. 
 
 [With forced laughter.] Ill must thou know me if such 
 a senseless dream can stay thy hand. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Tell me, Hiordis, what thinkest thou of this hall ? 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 To speak truly, Gunnar, sometimes it seems to me too 
 strait and narrow. 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 Ay, ay, so I have thought; we are one too many. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Two, mayhap. , 
 
 GUNNAE. 
 
 [Who has not heard Jier last words.] But that shall be 
 set right. 
 
 HiObdis. 
 
 [Looks at him interrogatively.] Set right ? Then thou 
 art minded to ? 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 To fit out my warships and put to sea; I will win back 
 the honour I have lost because thou wast dearer to me 
 than all beside. 
 
 , Hiordis. 
 
 [Thoughtfully.] Thou wilt put to sea ? Ay, so it may 
 be best for us both. 
 
94 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiii 
 
 GUNNAK. 
 
 Even from the day we sailed from Iceland, I saw that it 
 would go ill with us. Thy soul is strong and proud; there 
 are times when I well-nigh fear thee; yet, it is strange 
 — chiefly for that do I hold thee so dear. Dread goes 
 forth from thee like a spell; methinks thou could st lure 
 me to the blackest deeds, and all would seem good to me 
 that thou didst crave. [Shaking his head reflectively.] 
 Unfathomable is the Norn's rede; Sigurd should have 
 been thy husband. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Vehemently.] Sigurd! 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 Yes, Sigurd. Vengeance and hatred blind thee, else 
 wouldst thou prize him better. Had I been like Sigurd, 
 I could have made life glad for thee. 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [With strong but suppressed emotion.] That — that 
 deemest thou Sigurd could have done ? 
 
 GuNNAB. 
 
 He is strong of soul, and proud as thou to boot. 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Violently.] If that be so — [Collecting herself.] No 
 matter, no matter! [With a wild outburst.] Gunnar, 
 take Sigurd's life! 
 
 GUNNAE. 
 
 Never! 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 95 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 By fraud and falsehood thou mad'st me thy wife — that 
 shall be forgotten! Five joyless years have I spent in 
 this house — all shall be forgotten from the day when 
 Sigurd lives no more! 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 ' No harm shall e'er befall him from my hand. [Shrinks 
 back involuntarily.] Hiordis, Hiordis, tempt me not! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Then must I find another avenger; not long shall 
 Sigurd mock at me and thee! [Clenchinff her hands in 
 convulsive rage.] With her — that simpleton — with her 
 mayhap he is even now sitting alone, dallying, and mak- 
 ing sport of us; speaking of the bitter wrong that was 
 done me when in thy stead he bore me away; telling how 
 he laughed over his guile as he stbod in the mirk of my 
 bower, and I knew him not! 
 
 GuNNAB. 
 
 Nay, nay, he does not so! 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Firmly.] Sigurd and Dagny must die! 1 cannot draw 
 breath till they two are gone! [Cornes close up to him, 
 with sparkling eyes, and speaks passionately, hut in a 
 whisper.] Wouldst thou help me to that, Gunnar, 
 then should I live in love with thee; then should I clasp 
 thee in such warm and wild embraces as thou dream'st 
 not of. 
 
 GuNNAB. 
 
 [Wavering.] Hiordis! Wouldst thou ? 
 
96 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiii 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Set thy hand to the work, Gunnar — and the heavy days 
 shall be past. No longer will I quit the hall when thou 
 comest, no longer speak harsh things and quench thy 
 smile when thou art glad. I will clothe me in furs and 
 costly silken robes. When thou goest to war, I will fol- 
 low thee; when thou ridest forth in peace, I will ride by 
 thy side. At the feast I will sit by thee and fill thy horn, 
 and drink to thee and sing fair songs to make glad thy 
 heart! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 [Almost overcome.] Is it true? Thou wouldst " 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 More than that, trust me, ten times more! Give me 
 but ' revenge ! Revenge on Sigurd and Dagny, and I 
 will— ^ — [Stops as she sees the door open.] Dagny — 
 comest thou here! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [From the back.] Haste thee, Gunnar! Call thy men 
 to arms! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 To arms ! Against whom ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 K4re the Peasant is coming, and many outlaws with 
 him; he means thee no good ; Sigurd has once barred his 
 way; but who can tell 
 
 Gunnar. 
 [Moved.] Sigurd has done this for me! 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 97 
 
 Dagny. 
 Sigurd is ever thy faithful friend. 
 
 GUNNAH. 
 
 And we, Hiordis — we, who thought to ! It is as 
 
 I say — there is witchcraft in all thy speech; no deed but 
 seemeth fair to me, when thou dost name it. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Astonished.] What meanest thou ? 
 
 GUNNAE. 
 
 Nothing, nothing! I thank thee for thy tidings, Dag- 
 ny; I go to gather my men together. [Turns towards the 
 door, but stops and comes forward g,gain.] Tell me — how 
 goes it with Ornulf ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Bowing her head.] Ask not of him. Yesterday he 
 bore Thorolf 's body to the ships ; now he is raising a grave- 
 mound on the shore; — there shall his sons be laid 
 
 [GuNNAK goes out by the back in silence. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Until evening there is no danger. [Coming nearer.] 
 Hiordis, I have another errand in thy house; it is to thee 
 I come. 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 To me ? After all that befell yesterday ? 
 
98 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiii 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Even because of that. Hiordis, foster-sister, -do not 
 hate me; forget the words that sorrow and evil spirits 
 placed in my mouth; forgive me all the wrong I did thee; 
 for, trust me, I am now tenfold more hapless than thou! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 Hapless — thou! Sigurd's wife! 
 
 Dagnt. 
 
 It was m y doing, all that befell — the stirring up of 
 strife, and Thorolf's death, and all the scorn that fell 
 upon Gunnar and thee. Mine is all the guilt! Woe 
 upon me! — I have lived so happily; but after this day I 
 shall never know joy again. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [As if seized by a sudden thought.] But before— in 
 these five long years — all that time hast thou been happy ? 
 
 Dagnt. 
 
 Canst thou doubt it? 
 
 Hiordis. 
 Yesterday I doubted it not; but 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 What meanest thou? 
 
 Hiordis. 
 Nay, 'tis nought; let us speak of other matters. 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 99 
 
 Dagny. 
 No truly. Hiordis, tell me ! 
 
 HiOrdis. 
 
 It will profit thee little; but since thou wilt have it 
 so [With a malignant expression.] Canst thou re- 
 member once, over in Iceland — we had followed with 
 Ornulf thy father to the. Council, and we sat with our 
 playmates in the Council Hall, as is the manner of 
 women. Then came two strangers into the hall. 
 
 Dagny. 
 Sigurd and Gunnar. 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 They greeted us in courtly fashion, and sat on the bench 
 beside us; and there passed between us much merry talk. 
 There were some who must needs know why these two 
 vikings came thither, and if they were not minded to take 
 them wives there in the island. Then said Sigurd: 
 " 'Twill be hard for me to find the woman that shall be 
 to my mind." Ornulf laughed, and said there was no 
 lack of high-born and well-dowered women in Iceland; 
 but Sigurd answered: "The warrior needs a high-souled 
 wife. She whom I choose must not rest content with a 
 humble lot; no honour must seem too high for her to 
 strive for; gladly must she follow me a-viking; war- weed 
 must she wear; she must egg me on to strife, and never 
 blink her eyes where sword-blades lighten; for if she be 
 faint-hearted, scant honour will befall me." Is it not 
 true, so Sigurd spake ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 [Hesitatingly.] True, he did — but 
 
100 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiii 
 
 HiOedis. 
 
 Such was she to be, the woman who could make life 
 fair to him; and then — [With a scornful smile] then he 
 chose thee! 
 
 Dagnt. 
 
 [Starting, as in pain.] Ha, thou wouldst say that — — ? 
 
 HiOhdis. 
 
 Doubtless thou hast proved thyself proud and high- 
 souled ; hast claimed honour of all, that Sigurd might be 
 honoured in thee — is it not so ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 Nay, Hiordis, but 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 Thou hast egged him on to great deeds, followed him 
 in war- weed, and joyed to be where the strife raged hot- 
 test — hast thou not ? 
 
 Dagnt. 
 [Deeply moved.] No, no! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 Hast thou, then, been faint of heart, so that Sigurd has 
 been put to shame? 
 
 Dagnt. 
 
 [Overwhelmed.] Hiordis, Hiordis! 
 
ACTiii] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 101 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Smiling scornfully.] Yet thy lot has been a happy one 
 all these years! Think'st thou that Sigurd can say the 
 same? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Enough, enough. Woe is me ! thou hast made me see 
 myself too clearly. 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 A jesting word, and straightway thou art in tears! 
 Think no more of it. Look what I have done to-day. 
 [Takes some arrows from the table.] Are they not keen 
 and biting — feel! I know well how to sharpen arrows, 
 do I not? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 And to use them too; thou itrikest surely, Hiordis! 
 All this thou hast said to me — I had never thought of it 
 
 before. [More vehemently.] But that Sigurd ! That 
 
 for all these years I should have made his life heavy and 
 unhonoured; — no, no, it cannot be true! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 Nay now, comfort thee, Dagny; indeed it is not true. 
 Were Sigurd of the same mind as in former days, it might 
 be true enough; for then was his whole soul bent on be- 
 ing the foremost man in the land ; — now he is content with 
 a lowlier lot. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 No, Hiordis; Sigurd is high-souled now as ever; I see 
 it well, I am not the right mate for him. He has hidden 
 it from me; but it shall be so no longer. 
 
102 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actih 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 What wilt thou do ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 I will no longer hang like a clog upon his feet; I will 
 be a hindrance to him no longer. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Then thou wilt ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 Peace; some one comes! 
 
 A House-carl enters from the back 
 
 The Gael. 
 Sigurd Viking is coming to the hall. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Sigurd! Then call Gunnar hither. 
 
 The Carl. 
 
 Gunnar has ridden forth to gather his neighbours to- 
 gether; for Kare the Peasant would 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Good, good, I know it ; go ! [ The Carl goes. To Dag- 
 ny, who is also going.] Whither wilt thou ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 I will not meet Sigurd. Too well I feel that we must 
 part; but to meet him n o w — no, no, I cannot! 
 
 [Goes out to the left. 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 103 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Looks after her in silence for a moment.] And it was 
 
 she I would have [Completes her thought by a glance 
 
 at the bow-string.] That had been a poor revenge; — nay, 
 I have cut deeper now ! 'Tis hard to die, but sometimes 
 harder still to live! 
 
 Sigurd enters from the back. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Belike it is Gunnar thou seekest; be seated, he will be 
 here even now. [Is going. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Nay, stay; it is thee I seek, rather than him. 
 
 HlORDIS* 
 
 Me? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 And 'tis well I find thee alone. 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 If thou comest to mock me, it would sure be no hin- 
 drance to thee though the hall were full of men and 
 women. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Ay, ay, well I know what thoughts thou hast of me. 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [Bitterly.] I do thee wrong mayhap! Nay, nay, 
 Sigurd, thou hast been as a poison to all my days. Be- 
 
104 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act in 
 
 think thee who it was that wrought that shameful guile; 
 who it was that sat by my side in the bower, feigning love, 
 with the laugh of cunning in his heart; who it was that 
 flung me forth to Gunnar, since for him I was good 
 enough, forsooth — and then sailed away with the woman 
 he held dear! 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 Man's will can do this thing and that; but fate rules 
 in the deeds that shape our lives — so has it gone with us 
 twain. 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 True enough; evil Norns hold sway over the world; 
 but their might is little if they find not helpers in our own 
 heart. Happy, is he who has strength to battle with the 
 Norn — and it is that I have now in hand. 
 
 SlGT7BD. 
 
 What mean'st thou ? 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 I will venture a trial of strength, against those — those 
 who are over me. But let us talk no more of this ; I have 
 much to do to-day. [She seats herself at the table. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [After a short pause.] Thou makest good weapons for 
 Gunnar. 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 [With a quiet smile.] Not for Gunnar, but against 
 thee. 
 
ACT in] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 105 
 
 SiGTJKD. 
 
 Most like ir is the same thing. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Ay, most like it is; for if I be a match fpr the Norn, 
 
 then sooner or later shalt thou and Gunnar [Breaks 
 
 off, leans backwards against the table, looks at him with a 
 smile, and says with an altered ring in her voice:] Wouldst 
 know the thought that sometimes comes to me? Oft 
 have I made it my pastime to limn pleasant pictures in 
 my mind ; at such times I sit and close my eyes and think : 
 Now comes Sigurd the Strong to the isle; — he will bum 
 us in our house, me and my husband. All Gunnar's men 
 have fallen; only he and I are left; they set light to the 
 roof from without: — "A bow-shot," cries Gunnar, "one 
 bow-shot may save us"; — then the bow-string breaks — 
 "Hiordis, cut a tress of thy hair and make of it a bow- 
 string — our life is at stake." But then I laugh — "Let it 
 burn, let it burn — ^to me, life is not worth a wisp of hair!" 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 There is a strange might in all thy speech. 
 
 [Approaches her. 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 [Looks coldly at him.] Wouldst sit beside me ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Thou deemest my heart is bitter , toward thee. 'Tis 
 the last time, Hiordis, that we shall have speech together; 
 there is something that gnaws me like a sore sickness, and 
 in this wise I cannot part from thee; thou must know me 
 better. 
 
106 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiit 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 What ^ouldst thou ? 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 Tell thee a saga. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Is it ssd ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Sad, as life itself. 
 
 HiORDIS. 
 
 [Bitterly.] What knowest thou of the sadness of life ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Judge when my saga is over. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Then tell it me; I will work the while. 
 
 [He sits on a low stool to her right. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Once upon a time there were two young vikings, who 
 set forth from Norway to win wealth and honour; they 
 had sworn each other friendship, and held truly together, 
 how far soever they might fare. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 And the two young vikings hight Sigurd and Gunnar ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Ay, we may call them so. At last they came to Jce- 
 land; and ther^ dwelt an old chieftain, who had come 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 107 
 
 forth from Norway in King Harald's days. He had two 
 fair women in his house; but one, his foster;daughter, 
 was the noblest; for she was wise and strong of soul; and 
 the vikings spoke of her between themselves, and never 
 had they seen a fairer woman, so deemed they both. 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 [In suspense.] Both ? Wilt thou mock me ? 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 Gunnar thought of her night and day, and that did 
 Sigurd no less; but both held their peace, and no man 
 could say from her bearing whether Gunnar found favour 
 in her eyes; but that Sigurd found none, that was easy to 
 discern. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Breathlessly.] Go on, go on ! 
 
 SiGUHD. * 
 
 Yet ever the more must Sigurd dream of her; but of 
 that wist no man. Now it befell one evening that there 
 was a drinking-f east ; and there did that proud woman 
 vow that no man should possess her save he who wrought 
 a mighty deed, which she named. Then high beat Si- 
 gurd's heart for joy; for he felt within him the strength to 
 do that deed. But Gunnar took him apart and told him 
 of his love; — Sigurd said nought of his, but went to 
 the 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Vehemently.] Sigurd, Sigurd! [Controlling herself.] 
 And this saga — is it true .' 
 
108 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiu 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 True it is. One of us had to yield; Gunnar was my 
 friend; I could do nought else. So Gunnar had thefe to 
 wife, and I wedded another woman. 
 
 HlOKDIS, 
 
 And didst come to love her! 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 I learned to prize her; but one woman only has Sigurd 
 loved, and that is she who frowned upon him from the 
 first day they met. [Rises.] Here ends my saga; and 
 now let us part. — Farewell, Gunnar's wife; never shall 
 we meet again. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [Springing up.] Stay, stay! Woe to us both; Sigurd, 
 what hast thoif done ? 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 [Starting.] I. done ? What ails thee ? 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 And all this dost thou tell me now! But no — it can- 
 not be true! 
 
 * SiGUBD. 
 
 These are my last words to thee, and every word is 
 true. I would not thou shouldst think hardly of me, 
 therefore I needs must speak. 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 109 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Involuntarily clasps her hands together, and gazes at 
 him in voiceless astonishment.] Loved — loved me — thou ! 
 [Vehemently, coming close up to him.] I will not believe 
 thee! [Looks hard at him, and bursts forth in wild grief.] 
 Yes, it is true, and — hateful for us both! 
 
 [Hides her face in her hands, and turns away from 
 him. 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 [Appalled.] Hiordis ! 
 
 HiOrdis. 
 
 [Softly, struggling with tears and laughter.] Nay, heed 
 
 me not ! I meant but this, that [Lays her hand on 
 
 his arm.] Sigurd, thou hast not told thy saga to the end; 
 that proud woman thou didst tell of — she returned thy 
 love ! * 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Starts backwards.] Thou ? 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [With composure.] Aye, Sigurd, I have loved thee, at 
 last I understand it. Thou sayest I was ungentle and 
 short of speech towards thee; what wouldst thou have a 
 woman do ? Could I offer thee my love ? Then had I 
 been little worthy of thee. I deemed thee ever the no- 
 blest man of men; and then to know thee another's hus- 
 band — 'twas that caused me the bitter pain, that myself 
 I could not understand! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Much moved.] A baleful web has the Norn woven 
 around us twain. 
 
110 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiii 
 
 HlOHDIS. 
 
 The blame is thine own ; bravely and firmly it becomes 
 a man to act. When I set that hard proof for him who 
 should win me, my thought was all of thee; — ^yet couldst 
 thou ! 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 I knew Gunnar's soul-sickness; I alone could heal it; 
 — was there aught for me to choose ? And yet, had I 
 known what I now know, I scarce dare answer for my- 
 self; for great is the might of love. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [With animation.] But now, Sigurd! — A baleful hap 
 has held us apart all these years ; now the knot is loosed ; 
 the days to come shall make good the past to us. 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 [Shaking his head.] It cannot be; thou knowest we 
 must part again. 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 Nay, we must not. I love thee, that may I now say 
 unashamed; for my love is no mere dalliance, like a weak 
 woman's; were I a man — by all the Mighty Ones, I could 
 still love thee, even as now I do! Up then, Sigurd! 
 Happiness is worth a daring deed ; we are both free if we 
 but will it, and then the game is won. 
 
 SiGUED. 
 
 Free? What meanest thou? 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 111 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 What is Dagny to thee ? What can she be to thee ? 
 No more than I count Gunnar in my secret heart. What 
 matter though two worthless Hves be wrecked ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Hiordis, Hiijrdis! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Let Gunnar stay where he is; let Dagny fare with her 
 father to Iceland: I will follow thee in harness of steel, 
 whithersoever thou wendest. [Sigurd makes a move- 
 ment.] Not as thy wife will I follow thee; for I have 
 belonged to another, and the woman lives that has 
 lain by thy side. No, Sigurd, not as thy wife, but 
 like those mighty women, like Hilde's sisters,' will I 
 follow thee, and fire ^ee to strife and to manly deeds, 
 so that thy name shall be heard over every land. In 
 the sword-game will I stand by thy side; I will fare 
 forth among thy warriors in the storm and on the 
 viking- raid; and when thy death-song is sung, it shall 
 tell of Sigurd and Hiordis in one! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Once was that my fairest dream; now, it is too Jate. 
 Gunnar and Dagny stand between us, and that- by right. 
 I crushed my new-born love for Gunnar's sake; — how 
 great soever my suffering, I cannot undo my deed. And 
 Dagny — full of faith and trust she left her home and 
 kindred; never must she dream that I longed for 
 Hiordis as often as she took me to her breast. 
 ■ The Valkyries. 
 
112 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiii 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 And for such a cause wilt thou lay a burden on all thy 
 life! To what end hast thou strength and might, and 
 therewith all noble gifts of the mind ? And deemest thou 
 it can now beseem me to dwell beneath Gunnar's roof,? 
 Nay, Sigurd, trust me, there are many tasks awaiting such 
 a man as thou. Erik is king in Norway — do thou rise 
 against him! Many goodly warriors will join thee and 
 swear thee fealty; with unconquerable might will we 
 press onward, and fight and toil unresting, until thou art 
 seated on the throne of Harfager! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Hiordis, Hiordis, so have I dreamt in my wild youth; 
 let it be forgotten — tempt me not! 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 [With dignity.] It is the Norn's will that we two shall 
 hold together; it cannot be altered. Plainly now I see 
 my task in life : to make thee famous over all the world. 
 Thou hast stood before me ^very day, every hour of my 
 life; I sought to tear thee out of my mind, but I lacked the 
 might; now it is needless, now that I know thou lovest me. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [With forced coldness.] If that be so — then know — 
 I h a V e loved thee; it has passed now; — I have forgot 
 those days. 
 
 Hiordis. 
 
 Sigurd, in that thou liest! So much at least am I 
 worth, that if thou hast loved me once, thou canst never 
 forget it. 
 
ACTiH] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 113 
 
 Sigurd. 
 [Vehemently.] I must; and now I will. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 So be it; but thou canst not. Thou wilt seek to 
 hinder me, but in vain; ere evening falls, Gunnar and 
 Dagny shall know all. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Ha, that wilt thou never do! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 That will I do! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Then must I know thee ill; bigh-souled have I ever 
 deemed thee. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Evil days breed evil thoughts; too great has been thy 
 trust in me. I will, I must, go forth by thy side — forth 
 to face life and strife; Gunnar's roof-tree is too low 
 for me. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [With emphasis.] But honour between man and man 
 hast thou highly prized. There lack not grounds for 
 strife between me and Gunnar; say, now, that he fell 
 by my hand — wouldst thou still make all known and 
 follow me? 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Starting.] Wherefore askest thou? 
 
114 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiii 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Answer me first: what wouldst thou do, were I to give 
 thy husband his bane. 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 [Looks hard at him.] Then must I keep silence and 
 never rest until I had seen thee dead. 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 [With a smile.] It is well, Hiordis — I knew it. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Hastily.] But it can never come to pass! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 It must come to pass; thou thyself hast cast the die 
 even now"for Gunnar's life and mine. 
 
 [GuNNAR, vrith some House-carls, enters from the 
 back. 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 [Gloomily, to Hi5rdis.] See now; the seed thou hast 
 sown is sprouting! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 [Approaching.] What is amiss with thee ? 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 Sigurd, is it thou ? What is amiss ? Nought but what 
 I might well have foreseen. As soon as Dagny, thy wife, 
 had brought tidings of KS,re the Peasant, I took horse and 
 rode to my neighbours to seek help against him. 
 
ACT III] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 115 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Eagerly.] Well ? 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 I was answered awry where'er I came: my dealings 
 with Kare had been little to my honour, it was said; — aye, 
 and other things were said to boot, that I will not utter — 
 I am a dishonoured man; I am thought to have done a 
 dastard deed ; men hold it shame to make common cause 
 with me. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 It shall not long be held shame; ere evening comes, 
 thou shalt have men enough to face Kare. 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 Sigurd ! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [In a low voice, triumphantly.] Ha, I knew it well! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [With forced resolution.] But thereafter is the peace 
 between us at an end ; for hearken to my words, Gunnar 
 Headman — thou hast slain Thorolf, my wife's kinsman, 
 and therefore do I challenge thee to single combat^ to- 
 morrow at break of day. 
 
 [HiORDis, in violent inward emotion, makes a stride 
 towards Sigurd, hut collects herself and remains 
 standing motionless during the following. 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 \In extreme astonishment.] To single combat ! 
 
 Me! — Thou art jesting, Sigurd! 
 
 • Holmgang — see note, p. 36. 
 
116 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiii 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 Thou art lawfully challenged to single combat; 'twill 
 be a game for life or death; one of us must fall! 
 
 GUNNAB. 
 
 [Bitterly.] Ha, I understand it well. When I came, 
 thou didst talk with Hiordis alone; she has goaded thee 
 afresh! 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 Mayhap. [Half towards Hiordis.J A high-souled 
 woman must ever guard her husband's honour. [To the 
 men in the background.] And do ye. House-carls, now go 
 to Gunnar's neighbours, and say to them that to-morrow 
 he is to ply sword -strokes with me; none dare call that 
 man a dastard who bears arms against Sigurd Viking! 
 [The House-carls go out by the back. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 [Goes quickly up to Sigurd and presses his hands, in 
 strong emotion.] Sigui'd, my brave brother, now I under- 
 stand thee! Thou venturest thy life for my honour, 
 as of old for my happiness! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Thank my wife for that; she has the main part in what 
 I do. To-morrow at break of day 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 I will meet thee. [Tenderly.] Foster-brother, wilt 
 thou have a good blade of me ? 'Tis a gift of price. 
 
ACTiii] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 117 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 I thank thee; but let it hang. — Who knows if next 
 evening I may have any use for it. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 [Shakes his hand.] Farewell, Sigurd! 
 
 Sigurd, 
 
 Again farewell, and fortune befriend thee this night! 
 [They part. Gunnar goes out to the right. Sigurd 
 casts a glance at Hi5rdis, and goes out by the back. 
 
 Hi5rdis. 
 
 [After a pause, softly and thoughtfully.] To-morrow 
 they fight! Which will fall ? [After a moment's silence, 
 she bursts forth a§ if seized by a Strong resolution.] Let 
 fall who will — Sigurd and I shall still be together. 
 
ACT FOURTH 
 
 By the coast. It is evening; the moon breaks forth now 
 and again, from amang dark and ragged storm-clovds. 
 At the back, a black grave-mound, newly heaped up. 
 
 Obnulf sits on a stone, in front on the right, his head, bare, 
 his elbows resting on his knees, and his face buried in 
 his hands. His men are digging at the mound; 
 some give light with pine-knot torches. After a short 
 pause, SiGUHD and Dagny enter from the boat-house, 
 where a wood fire is burning. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 \In a low voice.] There sits he still. [Holding Sigurd 
 hack.] Nay, speak not to him. 
 
 SlGUBD. 
 
 Thou say'st well; it is too soon; best leave him to him- 
 self. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 \Goes over to the right, and gazes at her father in quiet 
 sorrow.] So strong was he yesterday when he bore 
 Thorolf's body on his back; strong was he as he helped 
 to heap the grave-mound ; but when they were all laid to 
 rest, and earth and stones piled over 'them — ^then the sor- 
 row seized him; then seemed it of a sudden as though 
 his fire were quenched. {Dries her tears.] Tell me, 
 Sigurd, when thinkest thou to fare homeward to Iceland ? 
 
 118 
 
ACTiv] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 119 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 So soon as' the storm abates, and my dealings with 
 Gunnar are ended. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 And then wilt thou buy land and build thee a 
 homestead, and go a-viking no more ? 
 
 SiGUKD, 
 
 Yes, yes, — that have I promised thee. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 And I may believe without doubt that Hiordis spoke 
 falsely when she said that I was unworthy to be thy wife ? 
 
 SiGUKD. 
 
 Yes, yes, Dagny, trust thou to my word. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Then am I glad again, and will try to forget all the 
 evil that here has been wrought. In the long winter 
 evenings we will talk together of Gunnar and Hiordis, 
 and 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 Nay, Dagny, wouldst thou have things go well with 
 us, never do thou speak Hiordis' name when once we are 
 at home in Iceland. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Mildly upbraiding him.] Unjust is thy hatred tow- 
 ards her. Sigurd, Sigurd, it is little like thee. 
 
120 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [activ 
 
 One of the Men. 
 [Approaching.] There now, the mound "is finished. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 [As if awaking.] The mound ? Is it — ay, ay 
 
 SiGTJKD. . 
 
 Now speak to him, Dagny. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Approaching.] Father, it is cold out here; the storm 
 is rising with the night. 
 
 Oknulf. 
 
 Nay, never heed it; the mound is close-heaped and 
 crannyless; they lie warm in there. 
 
 Dagny. 
 Ay, but thou 
 
 Obnulf. 
 I? I am not cold. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Nought hast thou eaten to-day; wilt thou not go in? 
 The supper-board stands ready. 
 
 Oknulf. 
 Let the supper-board stand; I have no hunger. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 But to sit here so still — trust me, thou wilt take hurt 
 of it; thou art ever wont to be stirring. 
 
ACT IV] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 121 
 
 Oknulp. 
 
 May be so; there is somewhat that crushes my breast; 
 I cannot draw breath. 
 
 [He again hides his face in his hands. A pause. 
 Dagny seats herself beside him. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 To-morrow wilt thou make ready thy ship and set 
 forth for Iceland ? 
 
 Obntjlp. 
 
 [Without looking up.] What should I do there ? Nay, 
 I will to my sons. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [With pain.] Father! 
 
 Oknulf.* 
 
 [Raises his head.] Go in and let me sit here ; when the 
 storm has played with me for a night or two, the game 
 will be over, I ween. — — - j^^ ^ j ^ 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Thou canst not think to deal thus with thyself. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 Dost marvel that I fain would rest ? My day's work 
 is done; I have laid my sons in their grave-mound. 
 [Vehemently.] Go from me! — Go, go! 
 
 [He hides his face. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 [Softly, to Dagny, who rises.] Let him sit yet awhile. 
 
122 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [activ 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Nayi I have one rede yet untried; — I know him. [To 
 Ornulf.] Thy day's work done, say'st thou ? Nay, that 
 it is not. Thou hast laid thy sons in the grave; — but art 
 thou not a skald ? It is meet that thou should 'st sing 
 their memory. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Shaking his head.] Sing? Nay, nay; yesterday I 
 could sing; I am too old to-day. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 But needs must thou; honourable men were thy sons, 
 one and all; a song must be made of them, and that can 
 none of our kin but thou. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Looks inquiringly at Sigurd.] To sing? What 
 thinkest' thou, Sigurd ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Meseems it is but meet; thou must e'en do as she says. 
 
 Dagnt. 
 
 Thy neighbours in Iceland will deem it ill done when 
 the grave-ale is drunk over Ornulf's children, and there 
 is no song to sing with it. Thou hast ever time enough 
 to follow thy sons. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 Well well, I will try it; and thou, Dagny, give heed, 
 that afterwards thou mayst carve the song on staves. 
 
ACT IV] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 123 
 
 The men approach with the torches, forming a group 
 around him; he is silent for a time, reflecting; then 
 he says: 
 
 Bragi's' gift is bitter 
 when the heart is broken; 
 sorrow-laden singer, 
 singing, suffers sorely. 
 
 Natheless, since the Skald-god 
 
 gave me skill in song-craft, 
 
 in a lay loud-ringing 
 
 be my loss lamented} , [Rises. 
 
 Ruthless Norn^ and wrathful 
 wrecked my life and ravaged, 
 wiled away my welfare, 
 wasted Ornulf'sHreasure. 
 
 Sons had Ornulf seven, 
 by the great gods granted; — 
 lonely now and life-sick 
 goes the greybeard, sonless. 
 
 Seven sons so stately, 
 
 bred among the sword-blades, 
 
 made a mighty bulwark 
 
 round the snow-locked sea-king. 
 
 Levelled lies the bulwark, 
 dead my sons strong-hearted; 
 gone the greybeard's gladness, 
 desolate his dwelling. 
 
 ' Bragi, the god of poetry and eloquence. 
 ^Seenote, p. 92. 
 
124 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [activ 
 
 Thorolf, — thou my last-born! 
 'Mongst the bold the boldest! 
 Soon were spent my sorrow 
 so but thou wert left me! 
 
 Fair thou wast as springtide, 
 fond towards thy father, 
 waxing straight and stalwart 
 to so wight a warrior. 
 
 Dark and drear his death-wound 
 leaves my life's lone evening; 
 grief hath gripped my bosom 
 as 'twixt hurtling targes. 
 
 Nought the Norn denied me 
 of her rueful riches, 
 showering woes unstinted 
 over Ornulf's world-way. 
 
 Weak are now my weapons. 
 But, were god-might given me, 
 one thing would I strive for — 
 on the Norn to venge me! 
 
 One thing would I toil for — 
 down to death to hurl thee, 
 Norn, that now hast left me 
 nought but yonder grave- mound. 
 
 Nought, I said ? Nay, truly, 
 
 somewhat still is Ornulf's, 
 
 since of Suttung's* mead-horn 
 
 he betimes drank deeply. 
 
 [With rising enthusiasm. 
 
 ' Suttung was a giant who kept guard over the magic mead of 
 poetical inspiration. 
 
ACTiv] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 125 
 
 Though she stripped me sonless, 
 one great gift she gave me — 
 songcraft's mighty secret, 
 skill to sing my sorrows. 
 
 On my lips she laid it, 
 goodly gift of songcraft; 
 loud, then, let my lay sound, 
 e'en where they are lying! 
 
 Hail, my stout sons seven! 
 Hail, as homeward ride ye! 
 Songcraft's glorious god-gift 
 stauncheth woe and wailing. 
 
 ' [He draws a deep breath, throws back the hair from 
 his brow, and says calmly: 
 
 So — so; now is Ornulf sound^and strong again. [To 
 the men.] Follow me to the supper-board, lads; heavy 
 has been our day's work! 
 
 [Goes with the m^n into the boat-house. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Praised be the Mighty Ones on high that gave me so 
 good a rede. [To Sigubd.] Wilt thou not go in ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Nay, I list not to. Tell me, are all things ready for 
 to-morrow ? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 They are ready; 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. 
 
126 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act iv 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 Grant all good powers, that thou mayest never weep 
 for my sake. [He stops and looks out. 
 
 Dagny. 
 What art thou listening to ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 Hear'st thou nought — -j o n d e r ? 
 
 [Points towards the left. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Ay, there goes a fearsome storm over the sea! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 [Going up a little towards the background.] There 
 will fall hard hailstones in that storm. [Shouts.] Who 
 comes ? 
 
 KAre the Peasant. 
 
 [Without on the left.] Folk thou wotst of, Sigurd 
 Viking ! 
 
 KAre the Peasant, with a band of armed men, enters 
 from the left. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Whither would ye ? 
 
 KAre. 
 Tp Gunnar's hall. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 As foemen ? 
 
ACT IV] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 127 
 
 KAre. 
 
 Ay, trust me for that! Thou didst hinder me before; 
 but now I ween thou wilt scarce do the like. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 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; wouldst 
 thou tackle thy ship to-night, we will see that thou hast 
 light enow! — 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 ! 
 
 Oknulf. 
 
 [Comes out, with the rest.] Kare the Peasant — where 
 is he ? 
 
128 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [activ 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 He is making for Gunnar's hall to bum it over their 
 heads. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 Ha-ha — let him do as he will; so shall I be avenged on 
 Gunnar and Hiordis, and afterwards I can deal with 
 Kkie. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 Nay, that rede avails not; wouldst thou strike at Kare, 
 thou tnust seek him out to-night; for when his misdeed 
 is done, he will take to the mountains. I have chal- 
 lenged Gunnar to meet me, man to man; him thou hast 
 safe enough, unless I myself — but no matter. — To-night 
 he mi^st be shielded from his foes; it would ill befit thee 
 to let so vile a caitiff as K&re rob thee of thy revenge. 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 Thou say'st truly. To-night will I shield the slayer 
 of Thorolf; but to-morrow he must die. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 He or I — doubt not of that! 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 Come then, to take vengeance for Ornulf's sons. 
 [He goes out with his men by the back, to the right. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 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 
 
ACT IV] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 129 
 
 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 takest thought even 
 for Hiordis; I thank thee for it. 
 
 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 shield 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 weapon- 
 less 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 shield. She has in 
 her hand the bow strung with her hair. 
 
130 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [act iv 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Hastily looking behind her, as though in dread of some- 
 thing pursuing her, goes close up to Sigurd, seizes him by 
 the arm, and whispers:] Sigurd, Sigurd, canst thou see it ? 
 
 Sigurd. 
 What? Where? 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 The wolf t h e r e — close behind me; it does not move; 
 it glares at me with its two red eyes. It is my wraith.' 
 Sigurd! Three times has it appeared to me; that bodes 
 that I shall surely die to-night! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Hibrdis, Hiordis! 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 It has sunk into the earth! Aye, aye, now it has 
 warned me. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 Thou art sick; come, go in with me. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 Nay, here will I bide; I have but little time left. 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 What has befallen thee ? 
 
 * The word "wraith" is here used in an obviously inexact sense; 
 but the wraith seemed to be the nearest equivalent in English myth- 
 ology to the Scandinavian "fylgie," an attendant spirit, often re- 
 garded as a sort of emanation from the person it accompanied, and 
 sometimes (as in this case) typifying that person's moral attributes. 
 
ACTiv] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 131 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 What has befallen ? That know I not; but 'twas true 
 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! 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 We? Ha, thou meanest . 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [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 to 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 
 uphold thee through heavy days, and that thou wert born 
 to the end I might find in o n e man all that seemed to 
 me great and noble; for this I know, Sigurd — had we two 
 held together, then hadst thou become more famous than 
 all others, and I happier. 
 
 SiGTTRD. 
 
 It avails not now to mourn. Think'st thou 'tis a merry 
 life that awaits me ? To be by Dagny's side day by day, 
 and feign a love my heart shrinks from ? Yet so it must 
 be; it cannot be altered. 
 
 HlOEDIS. 
 
 [In a growing frenzy.] It shall be altered ! We 
 must out of this life, both of us! Seest thou this bow- 
 
132 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [actiV 
 
 string? With it can I surely hit my mark; for I have 
 crooned fair sorceries over it! [Places an arrow in the 
 bow, which is strung.] Hark! hark! that rushing in the 
 air? It is the dead men's ride to Valhal: I have be- 
 witched them hither; — we two will join them in their 
 ride! 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 [Shrinking back.] Hiordis, Hiordis — I fear thee! 
 
 HlOBDIS. 
 
 [Not heeding him.] Our fate no power can alter now! 
 Oh, 'tis better so than if thou hadst wedded me here in 
 this life — if I had sat in thy homestead weaving linen and 
 wool for thee and bearing thee children — pah! 
 
 SiGUHD. 
 
 Hold, hold ! Thy sorceries have been too strong 'for 
 thee; they have made thee soul-sick, Hiordis! [Horror- 
 struck.] Ha, see — see! Gunnar's hall — it is burning! 
 
 HlOKDIS. 
 
 Let it burn, let it burn! The cloud-hall up yonder is 
 loftier than Gunnar's rafter-roof! 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 But Egil, thy son — they are slaying him! 
 
 HiObdis. 
 Let him die — my shame dies with him. 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 And Gunnar— they are taking thy husband's life! 
 
Act IV] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 133 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 What care I! A better husband shall I follow home 
 this night! Ay, Sigurd, so must it be; here on this earth 
 grows no happiness for me. The White God is coming 
 northward; him will I not meet; the old gods are strong 
 no longer; — they sleep, they sit half shadow-like on high; 
 — with them will we strive ! Out of this life, Sigurd ! I 
 will enthrone thee king in heaven, and I myself will sit 
 by thy side. [The storms bursts wildly.] Hark, hark, 
 here comes our company! Canst see the black steeds 
 galloping ? — one is for me and one for thee. [Draws the 
 arrow to her ear and shoots.] Away, then, on thy last 
 ride home! 
 
 SiGUBD. 
 
 Well aimed, Hiordis! [He falls. 
 
 HlORDfs. 
 
 [Jubilant, ru'shes up to him.] Sigurd, my brother, — 
 now art thou mine at last! 
 
 SlGtTRD. 
 
 Now less than ever. Here our ways part; for I am a 
 Christian man. 
 
 Hiordis. 
 [Appalled.] Thou ! Ha, no, no! 
 
 Sigurd. 
 
 The White God is mine; King ^thelstan taught me 
 to know him; it is to him I go. 
 
134 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [activ 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [In despair.] And I ! [Drops her bow.] Woe! woe! 
 
 SiGUED. 
 
 Heavy has my life been from the hour I tore thee out 
 of my own heart and gave thee to.Gunnar. I thank thee, 
 Hiordis; — now am I so light and free. [Dies. 
 
 HlORDIS. 
 
 [Quietly.] Dead ! Then truly have I brought my soul 
 to wreck. [ The storm increases; she breaks forth wildly.] 
 They come! I. have bewitched them hither! No, no! 
 I will not go with you! I will not ride without Sigurd! 
 It avails not — they see me; they laugh and beckon to me; 
 they spur their horses ! [Rushes out to the edge of the 
 cliff at the ba^lc] They are upon me;— and no shelter, ' 
 no hiding-place! Ay, mayhap at the bottom of the sea! 
 
 [She casts herself over. 
 
 [Obnulf, Dagny, Gunnar, with Egil, gradually fol- 
 lowed by Sigurd's and Obnulf's men, enter from 
 the right. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Turning towards the gravb-mound.] Now may ye 
 sleep in peace; for ye lie not unavenged. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Entering.] Father, father — I die of fear — all that 
 blood and strife — and the storm;— hark, hark! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 [Carrying Egil.] Peace, and shelter for my child. 
 
ACT IV] THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 135 
 
 Oknulf. 
 Gunnar! 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Ay, Ornulf, my homestead is burnt and my men are 
 slain; I am in thy power; do -with me what thou wilt! 
 
 Ohnulf. 
 
 That Sigurd must look to. But in, under roof! It is 
 not safe oiit here. 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Ay, ay, in ! [Goes towards the boat-house, catches sight 
 q/" Sigurd's body, and shrieks.] Sigurd, my husband! — 
 They have slain him! [Throwing herself upon him. 
 
 ■■ * 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 [Rushes up.] Sigurd! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 [Sets Egil down.] Sigurd dead! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Looks despairingly at the men, who surround the body.] 
 No, no, it is not so; — he must be alive! [Catches sight 
 of the bow.] Ha, what is that ? [Rises. 
 
 Ohnulf. 
 Daughter, it is as first thou saidst — Sigurd is slain. 
 
136 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [activ 
 
 GUNNAH. , 
 
 [-4s if seized by a sudden thought.] And Hiordis! — 
 Has Hiordis been here? 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 [Softly and with self -control.] I know not; but this I 
 know, that her bow has been here. 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Ay, I thought no less! 
 
 Dagny. 
 
 Hush, hush! \To herself.] So bitterly did she hate 
 him! 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 \Aside.] She has slain him — the night before the com- 
 bat; then after all she loved me. , 
 
 \A thrill of dread runs through the whole group; As- 
 gIrdskeien — the ride of the fallen warriors to 
 Valhal — hurtles^ through the air. 
 
 Egil. 
 \In terror.] Father! See, see! 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 What is it ? 
 
 Egil. 
 
 Up there — all the black horses ! 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 It is the clouds that 
 
ACTivI THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND 1S7 
 
 Ohnulf. 
 Nay, it is the dead men's home-faring. 
 
 Egil. 
 [With a shriek.] Mother is with them! 
 
 Dagny. 
 AH good spirits! 
 
 GUNNAR. 
 
 Child, what say'st thou ? 
 
 Egil. 
 
 There — in front — on the black horse! Father, father! 
 
 [Egil clings in terror to his father; a short pause; the 
 storm passes over, the clouds part, the moon shines 
 peacefully on the scene. 
 
 GuNNAR. 
 
 [In quiet sorrow.] Now is Hiordis purely dead. 
 
 Ornulf. 
 
 So it must be, Gunnar; — and my vengeance was rather 
 against her than thee. Dear has this meeting been to • 
 both of us ; — there is my hand ; be there peace between us ! 
 
 Gunnar. 
 
 Thanks, Ornulf! And now aboard; I sail with thee 
 to Iceland. 
 
138 THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND [activ 
 
 Obnulf. 
 
 Ay, to Iceland ! Long will it be ere our forth-faring is 
 forgotten. 
 
 Weapon-wielding warriors' meeting, 
 woful, by the norland seaboard, 
 still shall live in song and saga 
 while our stem endures in Iceland. 
 
 THE END 
 
THE PRETENDERS 
 
THE PRETENDERS 
 
 INTRODUCTION * 
 
 Six years elapsed between the composition of The 
 Vikings and that of The Pretenders} In the interval 
 Ibsen wrote Love's Comedy, and brought all the world 
 of Norwegian philistinism, and (as we should now say) 
 suburbanism, about his ears. Whereas hitherto his 
 countrymen had ignored, they now execrated him. In 
 his autobiographic letter of 1870, to Peter Hansen, he 
 wrote: "The only person who at that time approved 
 of the book was my wife. . . . My countrymen excom- 
 municated me. All were against me. The fact th3;t all 
 were against me — that there was no longer any one out- 
 side my own family circle of whom I could say 'He be- 
 lieves in me' — must, as you can easily see, have aroused 
 a mood which found its outlet in The Pretenders." It is 
 to be noted that this was written during a period of es- 
 trangement from Bjornson. I do not know what was 
 Bjornson's attitude towards Love's Comedy in particular; 
 but there can* be no doubt that, in general, he believed in 
 and encouraged his brother poet, and employed his own 
 
 ' The original title Kongsemnerne might be more literally trans- 
 lated "The Scions of Royalty." It is rendered by Brandes in 
 German "Konigsmaterie," or "the stufE from which kings are 
 made." 
 
 * Copyright, 1906, by Charles Scribnei's Sons. 
 
 141 
 
142 THE PRETENDERS 
 
 growing influence in efforts to his advantage. In repre- 
 senting himself as standing quite alone, Ibsen probably 
 forgets, for the moment, his relation to his great con- 
 temporary. 
 
 Yet the relation to Bjornson lay at the root of the 
 character-contrast on which The Pretenders is founded. 
 Ibsen always insisted that each of his plays gave poetic 
 form to some motive gathered from his own experience 
 or observation ; and this is very clearly true of the present 
 play. Ever since Synnove Solbakken had appeared in 
 1857, Bjornson, the expansive, eloquent, lyrical Bjorn- 
 son, had been the darling child of fortune. He had gone 
 from success to success unwearied. He was recognised 
 throughout Scandinavia (in Denmark no less than in 
 Norway) as the leader of the rising generation in almost 
 every branch of imaginative literature. He was full, not 
 only of inspiration and energy, but of serene self-confi- 
 dence. Meanwhile Ibsen, nearly five years older than he, 
 had been pursuing his slow and painful course of develop- 
 ment, in comparative obscurity, in humiliating poverty, 
 and amid almost complete lack of appreciation. " Mr. 
 Ibsen is a great cipher" (or "nullity"), wrote a critic in 
 1858; another, in 1863, laid it down that "Ibsen has a cer- 
 tain technical and artistic talent, but nothing of what can 
 be called 'genius.'" The scoffs of the critics, however, 
 were not the sorest trials that he had. to beay. What was 
 hardest to contend against was the doubt as to his own 
 poetic calling and election that constantly beset him. 
 This doubt could not but be generated by the very tardi- 
 ness of his mental growth. We see him again and again 
 (in the case of Olc^ Liliekrans, of The Vikings, of Love's 
 
INTRODUCTION 143 
 
 Comedy, and of The Pretenders itself), conceiving a plan 
 and then abandoning it for years — no doubt because he 
 found himself, in one respect or another, unripe for its 
 execution. Every such experience must have involved for 
 him days and weeks of fruitless effort and discourage- 
 ment. To these moods of scepticism as to his own powers 
 he gave expression in a series of poems (for the most part 
 sonnets) published in 1859 under the title of In the Picture 
 Gallery. In it he represents the "black elf" of doubt, 
 whispering to him: "Your soul is like the dry bed of a 
 mountain stream, in which the singing waters of poetry 
 have ceased to flow. If a faint sound comes rustling 
 down the empty channel, do not imagine that it portends 
 the return of the waters — it is only the dry leaves eddying 
 before the autumn wind, and pattering among the barren _ 
 stones." In those years of struggle and stress, of depress- 
 ing criticism, and enervating self-^criticism, he must often 
 have compared his own lot and his own character with 
 Bjornson's, and perhaps, too, wondered whether there 
 were no means by which he could appropriate to him- 
 self some of his younger and more facile brother-poet's 
 kingly self-confidence. For this relation between two 
 talents he partly found and partly invented a historic 
 parallel in the relation between two rival pretenders to 
 the Norwegian throne, Hakon Hakonsson and Skule 
 Bardsson. 
 
 Dr. Brandes, who has admirably expounded the per- 
 sonal element in the genesis of this play, compares Hakon- 
 Bjornson and Skule-Ibsen with the Aladdin and Nureddin 
 of Oehlenschlager's beautiful dramatic poem. Aladdin 
 is the born genius, serene, light-hearted, a trifle shallow. 
 
144 THE PRETENDERS 
 
 who grasps the magic lamp with an unswerving confi- 
 dence in his right to it. ("It is that which the Romans 
 called ingenium," says Bishop Nicholas, "truly I am not 
 strong in Latin; but 'twas called ingenium.") Nureddin, 
 on the other hand, is the far profounder, more penetrat- 
 ing, but sceptical and self-torturing spirit. When at last 
 he seizes Aladdin's lamp, as Skule annexes Hakon's king's 
 thought, his knees tremble, and it drops from his grasp, 
 just as the Genie is ready to obey him. 
 
 It is needless to cite the passages from the scenes be- 
 tween Skule and Bishop Nicholas in the second act, Skule 
 and Hakon in the third, Skule and Jatgeir in the fourth, 
 in which this element of personal symbolisrn Is present. 
 The reader will easily recognise them, while recognising 
 at the same time that their dramatic appropriateness, 
 their relevance to the historic situation as the poet 
 viewed it, is never for a moment impaired. The under- 
 lying meaning is never allowed to distort or denaturalise 
 the surface aspect of the picture.' The play may be read, 
 understood, and fully appreciated, by a person for whom 
 this underlying meaning has no existence. One does not 
 point it out as an essential element in the work of art, or 
 even as adding to its merit, but simply as affording a 
 particularly clear instance of Ibsen's method of inter- 
 weaving "Wahrheit" with "Dichtung." 
 
 So early as 1858, soon after the completion of The Vi- 
 hings, Ibsen had been struck by the dramatic material in 
 Hakon Hakonsson's Saga, as related by Snorri Sturlas- 
 
 • This remark does not apply, of course, to the satiric "parabasis" 
 uttered by the Bishop's ghost in the fifth act. That is a totally 
 different matter. 
 
INTRODUCTION 145 
 
 son's nephew, Sturia Thordsson, and had sketched a play 
 on the subject. At that time, however, he put the draft 
 aside. It was only as the years went on, as he found him- 
 self "excommunicated" after Love's Comedy, and as the 
 contrast between Bjornson's fortune and his own became 
 ever more marked, that the figures of Skule and Hakon 
 ^ook more and more hold upon his imagination. In 
 June, 1863, he attended a "Festival of Song" at Bergen, 
 and there met Bjornsdn, who had been living abroad 
 since 1860. Probably under the stimulus of this meeting, 
 he set to work upon The Pretenders immediately on his 
 return to Christiania, and wrote it with almost incredible 
 rapidity. The manuscript went to the printers in Sep- 
 tember; the book was published in October, 1863 (though 
 dated 1864) , and the play was produced at the Christiania 
 Theatre, under the author's own supervision, on January 
 17, 1864. The production was notably successful; yet 
 no one seems fully to have realised what it meant for 
 Norwegian literature. Outside of Norway, at any rate, it 
 awoke no echo. George Brandes declares that scarcely 
 a score of copies of the play found their way to Denmark. 
 Not until Ibsen had left Norway (April, 1864) and had 
 taken the Danish reading public by storm with Brand 
 and Peer Gynt, did people turn back to The Pretenders 
 and discover what an extraordinary achievement it was. 
 In January, 1871, it was produced at the Royal Theatre, 
 Copenhagen, where Emil Poulsen found in Bishop Nich- 
 olas one of the great triumphs of his career. It was 
 produced by the Meiningen Company and at the Mu- 
 nich Hoftheater in 1875, in Stockholm in 1879, at the 
 Konigliches Schauspielhaus, Berlin, and at the Vienna 
 
146 THE PRETENDERS 
 
 Burgtheater in 1891; and it has from time to time been 
 acted at many other Scandinavian and German theatres.' 
 The character of Nicholas has fascinated many great 
 actors: what a pity that it did not come in the way of 
 Sir Henry Irving when he was at the height of his power ! 
 But of course no English actor-manager would dream of 
 undertaking a character which dies in the middle of the 
 third act. 
 
 Ibsen's treatment of history in this play may be pro- 
 posed as a model to other historic dramatists. Although 
 he has invented a great deal, his inventions supplement 
 rather than contradict the records. Chronology, indeed, 
 he treats with considerable freedom, and at the same time 
 with ingenious vagueness. The general impression one 
 receives in reading the play is that the action covers a 
 space of four or five years; as a matter of fact it covers 
 twenty-two years, between the folkmote in Bergen, 1218, 
 and Skule's death, 1240. All the leading characters are 
 historical; and although much is read into them which 
 history does not warrant, there is little that history ab- 
 solutely forbids us-to conceive. The general features of 
 the struggle between the two factions — Hakon's ,Birke- 
 beiner, or Birchlegs, and Skule's Vargbaeslgs — ^are cor- 
 rectly enough reproduced. In his treatment of this 
 period, the Norwegian historian, J. E. Sars, writing thir- 
 teen years after the appearance of The Pretenders, uses 
 terms which might almost have been suggested by Ibsen's 
 play. " On the one side," he says, "we find strength and 
 
 ' In America it was acted in April, 1907, by the Yale University 
 Dramatic Association, but has not as yet (1911) found its way to 
 the professional stage. 
 
INTRODUCTION 147 
 
 certainty, on the other lameness and lack of confidence. 
 The« old Birchlegs' go to work openly and straightfor- 
 wardly, like men who are immovably convinced of the 
 justice of their cause, and unwaveringly assured of its 
 ultimate victory. Skule's adherents, on the other hand, 
 are ever seeking by intrigues and chicanery to place 
 stumbling-blocks in the way of their opponents' enthusi- 
 asm." Hakon represented Sverre's ideal of a democratic 
 kingship, independent of the oligarchy of bishops and 
 barons. "He was," says Sars, "reared in the firm con- 
 viction of his right to the Throne; he grew up among 
 the veterans of his grandfather's time, men imbued with 
 Sverre's principles, from whom he accepted them as a 
 ready-made system, the realisation of which could only be 
 a question of time. He stood from the first in a clear and 
 straightforward position to which his whole personality 
 corresponded. . . . He owed his chief strength to the re- 
 pose and equilibrium of mind which distinguished him, 
 and had its root in his unwavering sense of having right 
 and the people's will upon his side." His great "king's- 
 thought," however, seems to be an invention of the poet's. 
 Skule, on the other hand, represented the old nobility in 
 its struggle against the new monarchy. "He was the 
 centre of a hierarchic aristocratic party; but after its 
 repeated defeats this party must have been lacking alike 
 in number and in confidence. ... It was clear from the 
 first that his attempt to reawaken the old wars of the 
 succession in Norway was undertaken in the spirit of the 
 desperate gambler, who does not count the chances, but 
 
 ' The followers of Hakon's grandfather, King Sverre. See 
 Note, p. 161. 
 
148 THE PRETENDERS 
 
 throws at random, in the bhnd hope that luck may be- 
 friend him. . . . Skule's enterprise had thus no support 
 in opinion or in any prevailing interest, and one defeat 
 was sufficient to crush him." 
 
 In the character of Bishop Nicholas, too, Ibsen has 
 widened and deepened his historical material, rather than 
 poetised with a free hand. " Bishop Nicholas," says Sars, 
 "represented rather the aristocracy . . . than the cloth 
 to which he belonged. He had begun his career as a 
 worldly chieftain, and, as such, taken part in Magnus 
 Erlingsson's struggles with Sverre; and although he must 
 have had some tincture of letters, since he could contrive 
 to be elected a bishop . . . there is no lack of indications 
 that his spiritual lore was not of the deepest. During his 
 long participation in the civil broils, both under Sverre 
 and later, we see in him a man to whose character any sort 
 of religious or ecclesiastical enthusiasm must have been 
 foreign, his leading motives being personal ambition and 
 vengefulness rather than any care for general interests — 
 a cold and calculating nature, shrewd but petty and with- 
 out any impetus, of whom Hakon Hakonsson, in deliver- 
 ing his funeral speech . . . could find nothing better to 
 say than that he had not his equal in worldly wisdom 
 (vercddar vit) ." I cannot find that the Bishop played any 
 such prominent part in the struggle between the King and 
 the Earl as Ibsen assigns to him; and the only foundation 
 for the great death-bed scene seems to be the following 
 passage from Hakon Hakonsson' s Saga, Cap. 138: "As 
 Bishop Nicholas at that time lay very sick, he sent a mes- 
 senger to the King praying him to come to him. The 
 King had on this expedition seized certain letters, from 
 
INTRODUCTION 149 
 
 which he gathered that the Bishop had not been true 
 to him. With this he upbraided him, and the Bishop, 
 confessing it, prayed the King to forgive him. The 
 King replied that he did so willingly, for God's sake; 
 and as he could discern that the Bishop lay near to 
 deatli, he abode with him until God called him from the 
 world." 
 
 In the introduction to The Vikings at Helgelarjd, I have 
 suggested that in that play Ibsen had reached imaginative i 
 and technical maturity, but was as yet intellectually im- 
 mature. The six years that elapsed between The Vikings 
 and The Pretenders placed him at the height of his intellec- 
 tual power. We have only to compare Skule, Hakon, and 
 Bishop Nicholas with Gunnar, Sigurd, and Ornulf to feel 
 that we have passed from nobly-designed and more or 
 less animated waxworks to con^lex and profoundly- 
 studied human beings. There is no Hiordis in The Pre- 
 tenders, and the female character-drawing is still con- 
 trolled by purely romantic ideals;^ but how exquisitely 
 human is Margrete in comparison with the almost entirely 
 conventional Dagny ! The criticism of life, too, which in 
 The Vikings is purely sentimental, here becomes intense 
 and searching. The only point of superiority in The 
 Vikings — if it be a point of superiority — is purely techni- 
 
 ' On page 323 will be found a reference to Brandes's Ibsen and 
 Bjomson; but I may as well give here the substance of the passage. 
 In the original form of the play, three speeches of Ingeborg's, in her 
 scene with Skule, ran as follows: "It is man's right to forget," "It 
 is woman's happiness to remember," and "To have to sacrifice all 
 and be forgotten, that is woman's saga." It was only on Brandes's 
 remonstrance that Ibsen substituted the present form of these 
 speeches, in which they became, not the generalised expression of an 
 ideal, but merely utterances of Ingeborg's individual character. 
 
150 THE PRETENDERS 
 
 cal. The action of the eariier play is concentrated and 
 rounded. It has all the "unity," or "unities," that a 
 rational criticism can possibly demand. In a word, it is, 
 in form as well" as essence, an ideal tragedy. The Pre- 
 tenders, on the other hand, is a chronicle-play, far more 
 close-knit than Shakespeare's or Schiller's works in 'that 
 kind, but, nevertheless, what Aristotle wojjld call "epi- 
 sodic" in its construction. The weaving of the plot, how- 
 ever, is quite masterly, betokening an effort of invention 
 and adjustment incomparably greater than that which 
 went to the making of The Vikings. It was doubtless 
 his training in the school of French intrigue that enabled 
 Ibsen to depict with such astonishing vigour that master 
 wire-puller, Bishop Nicholas. This form of technical 
 dexterity he was afterwards to outgrow and bring into 
 disrepute. But from The Vikings to Pillars of Society 
 he practised, whenever he was writing primarily for the 
 stage, the methods of the "well-made play"; and in 
 everything but concentration, which the very nature of 
 the subject excluded. The Pretenders is thoroughly "well- 
 made." 
 
 With this play, though the Scandinavian criticism of 
 1864 seems to have been far from suspecting the fact, 
 Ibsen took his place among the great dramatists of the 
 world. In wealth of characterisation, complexity and 
 nobility of emotion, and depth of spiritual insight, it 
 stands high among the masterpieces of romantic drama. 
 It would be hard to name a more vigorous character- 
 projection than that of Bishop Nicholas, or any one 
 dramatic invention more superbly inspired than the old 
 man's death scene, with the triumphant completion of his 
 
INTRODUCTION 151 
 
 perpetuum mobile. But even if the Bishop were entirely 
 omitted, the play would not be Hamlet without the 
 Prince of Denmark. The characters of Hakon and Skule, 
 and the struggle between them, would still make one of 
 the greatest historic dramas in literature. 
 
 It has not been generally noticed, I think, that Ibsen 
 found in Bjornson's King Sverre, published in 1861, a 
 study of Bishop Nicholas in his younger days. The play, 
 as a whole, is a poor one, and does not appear in the col- 
 lected edition of Bjornson's works; but there is distinct 
 merit in the drawing of the Bishop's character. ^ Further- 
 more, it ought to be remembered that The Pretenders was 
 not the first work, or even the first great work, of its class 
 in Norwegian literature. In 1862, Bjornson had pub- 
 lished his splendid trilogy of Sigurd Slembe, which, though 
 more fluid and uneven than The Pretenders, contains 
 several passages of almost Shakespearean power. It was 
 certainly greater than anything Ibsen had done up to that 
 date. Ibsen reviewed it on its .appearance, in terms of 
 unmixed prdise, yet, as one cannot but feel, rather oyer- 
 cautiously. 
 
 If anything could excuse the coolness of Norwegian 
 criticism towards The Pretenders, it was the great and 
 flagrant artistic blemish of the Ghost Scene in the last act. 
 This outburst of prophetico-topical satire is a sheer ex- 
 crescence on the play, indefensible, but, at the same time, 
 fortunately negligible. It is, however, of interest as a 
 symptom of Ibsen's mood in the last months before he 
 left Norway, and also as one of the links in that chain 
 which binds all his works together. Just as Skule's 
 attempt to plagiarise Hakon's king's-thought points back- 
 
152 THE PRETENDERS 
 
 wards to Gunnar's moral lapse in taking advantage of the 
 fraud on Hiordis, so the ironic rhymes of the Bagler- 
 Bishop's ghost point forward to the lyric indignation 
 and irony of Brand and Peer Gynt. 
 
THE PRETENDERS 
 
 (1863) 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 Hakon Hakonsson, the King elected by the Birchlegs. 
 
 Inga op Vaeteig, his mother. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild, ^is wife. 
 
 SiGRiD, his sister. 
 
 Mabgbete, his daughter. 
 
 GUTHORM InGBSSON. 
 
 Sigurd Ribbdng. 
 -Nicholas Abnesson, Bishop of Oslo. 
 
 Dagfinn the Peasant, Hakon's marshal. 
 
 IvAR Bodde, his chaplain. 
 
 Vegabd Vaejbadal, one of his guard. 
 
 Gregobius Jonsson, a nobleman. 
 
 Paul Flida, a nobleman.. 
 
 Ingeboeg, Andres SMaldarband's wife. 
 
 Peteb, her son, a young priest. 
 
 SiRA ViLiAM, Bishop Nicholas's chaplain. 
 
 Masteb Sigabd of Bbabant, a physician. 
 " Jatgeir Srald, an Icelander. 
 
 BArd Bratte, a chieftain from the Trondhiem district. 
 
 Populace and Citizens of Bergen, Oslo, and Nidaros. 
 
 Priests, Monks, and Nuns. 
 
 Gu£sts, Guards, and Ladies. 
 
 Men-at-arms, etc. etc. 
 
 The action passes in the first half of the Thirteenth Century. 
 
 Pronunciation of Names: Hakon =Hoakoon ("oa" as in 
 "board"); Skule =Skoole; Margrete=Margrayte; Guthorm = 
 Gootorm; Sigurd Ribbung=Sigooi"d Ribboong; Dagfinn ("a" 
 as in "hard"); Ivar Bodde =Eevar Bodde; Vegard=Vaygard; 
 Jonsson = Yoonson; Flida = Fleeda; Ingeborg = Ingheborg; 
 Jatgeir =Yatgheir; Bard Bratte=Board Bratte. The name 
 "Ingeborg" appears as "Ingebjorg" in Ibsen's text. The form 
 I have substituted is equally current in Norway, and less trouble- 
 some to pronounce. 
 
 154 
 
THE PRETENDERS 
 
 HISTORIC PLAY IN FIVE ACTS 
 
 ACT FIRST 
 
 The churchyard of Christ Church, Bergen. At the back 
 rises the church, the main portal of which faces 
 the spectators. In front, on the left, stands HAkon 
 HAkonsson, with Dagfinn,the Peasant, Vegaed 
 OP V^RADAL, IvAR BoDDE, and Several other nobles 
 and chieftains. Opposite to him stand Earl Skule, 
 Gregorius Jonsson, Paul Flida, and others of the 
 Earl's men. Further back on the same side are seen 
 Sigurd Ribbung and his followers, and a little way 
 from him Guthorm Ingesson, with several chiefs. 
 Men-at-arms line the approaches to the church; the 
 common people fill the churchyard; many are perched 
 in the trees and seated on the walls; all seem to await, 
 in suspense, the occurrence of soms event. All the 
 church bells of the town are ringing far and near. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Softly and impatiently, to Gregorius Jonsson.] Why 
 tarry they so long in there ? 
 
 155 
 
156 THE PRETENDERS [acti 
 
 Gbegohius Jonsson. 
 
 Hush! The psalm is beginning. 
 
 [FroTn inside the closed church doors, to the accompani- 
 ment of trumpets, is heard a Choir of Monks 
 AND Nuns singing Domine cceli, etc. etc. While 
 the singing is going on, the church door is opened 
 from inside; in the porch Bishop Nicholas is 
 seen, surrounded by Priests and Monks. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Steps forward to the doorway and proclaims with up- 
 lifted crazier^ Inga of Varteig is even now bearing the 
 iron on behalf of Hakon the Pretender. 
 
 [The church door is closed again; the singing inside 
 
 ' continues. 
 
 Gbegohius Jonsson. 
 
 [In a low voice to the Eahl.] Call upon Holy King 
 Olaf to protect the right. 
 
 Eakl Skule. , 
 
 [Hurriedly, with a deprecating gesture.] Not now. 
 Best not remind him of me. > 
 
 IVAB BODDE. 
 
 [Seizing HAkon by the arm.] Pray to the Lord thy 
 God, Hakon Hakonsson. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 No need ; I am sure of him. 
 
 [The singing in the church grows louder; all uncover; 
 many fall upon their knees and pray. 
 
ACT!] THE PRETENDERS 157 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 [To the Earl.] A solemn hour for you and for many! 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Looking anxioy,sly towards the chiirch.] A solemn hour 
 for Norway. 
 
 Paul Plida. 
 
 [Near the Earl.] Now is the glowing iron in her 
 hands. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Besule HAkon.] They are coming down the nave. 
 
 IVAR BODDE. 
 
 Christ protect thy tender hand^, Inga, mother of the 
 King! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Surely all my life shall reward her for this hour. 
 
 . Earl Skule. 
 
 [Who has been listening intently, breaks ovi suddenly.] 
 Did she cry out? Has she let the iron fall? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 [Goes up.] I know not what it was. 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 Hark to the women weeping in the outer hall! 
 
158 THE PRETENDERS [act i 
 
 The Choir in the Chukch. 
 
 [Breaks forth in jubilation.] Gloria in excelsis Deo! 
 [The doors are thrown open. Inga comes forth, fol- 
 lowed by Nuns, Priests, and Monks. 
 
 Inga. 
 
 [On the church steps.] God has given judgment ! Be- 
 hold these hands; with them I bore the iron! 
 
 Voices amongst the Multitude. 
 They are tender "and white as before! 
 
 Other Voices. 
 Fairer still! 
 
 The whole Multitude. 
 He is Hakon's son! He is Sverre's' grandson: 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [Embraces her.] Thanks to thee, thanks to thee, 
 blessed among women! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [In passing, to the Earl.] 'Twas ill done to press for 
 the ordeal. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Nay, my lord Bishop, needs must we pray for God's 
 voice in this matter. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Deeply moved, holding Inga by the hand.] It is done, 
 then, that which my every fibre cried out against — that 
 
 ' Pronounce Sverre. 
 
ACT I] THE PRETENDERS 159 
 
 which has made my heart shrivel and writhe within 
 me 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Turning towards the multitude.] Ay, look upon this 
 woman and bethink you, all that are gathered here ! . Who 
 ever doubted her word, until certain folk required that 
 it should be doubted. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Doubt has whispered in every corner from the hour 
 when Hakon the Pretender was borne, a little child, into 
 King Inge's' hall. 
 
 Geegoeius Jonsson. 
 
 And last winter it swelled to a roar, and sounded forth 
 over the land, both north and south; I trow every man can 
 bear witness to that. * 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 I myself can best bear witness to it. Therefore have 
 I yielded to the counsel of many faithful friends, and 
 humbled myself as no other chosen king has done for 
 many a day. I have proved my birth by the ordeal, 
 proved my right, as the son of Hakon Sverresson, to suc- 
 ceed to the throne of Norway. I will not now question 
 who fostered the doubt, and made it, as the Earl's kins- 
 man says, swell into a roar; but this I know, that I have 
 suffered bitterly under it. I have been chosen king from 
 boyhood, but little kingly honour has been shown me, 
 even where it seemed I might look for it most securely. 
 I will but remind you of last Palm Sunday in Nidaros,^ 
 when I went up to the altar to make my offering, and the 
 ' Pronounce Inghe. " The old name for Tmndhiem. 
 
160 THE PRETENDERS [act i 
 
 Archbishop turned away arid made as though he saw 
 me not, to escape greeting me as kings are wont to be 
 greeted. Yet such slights I could easily have borne, had 
 not open war been like to break loose in the land; that 
 I must needs hinder. , 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 It may be well for kings to hearken to counsels of 
 prudence: but had m y counsel been heard in this mat- 
 ter, it had not been with hot iron, but with cold steel that 
 Hakon Hakonsson had called for judgment between him- 
 self and his foes. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Curb yourself, Dagfinn; think what beseems the man 
 who is to be foremost in the State. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [With a slight smile.] 'Tis easy to call every one the 
 King's foe who chimes not with the King's will. Me- 
 thinks he is the King's worst foe who would counsel 
 him against making good his right to the kingship. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Who knows ? Were my right alone in question, may- 
 hap I had not paid so dear to prove it; but higher things 
 are here at stake: my calling and my duty. Deep and 
 warm is the faith within me — and I blush not to own it — 
 that I alone am he who in these times can sway the land 
 to its weal. Kingly birth begets kingly duty 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 There are others here who bear themselves the like 
 fair witness. 
 
ACT I] THE PRETENDERS 161 
 
 Sigurd Ribbung. 
 
 That do I, and with full as good ground. My grand- 
 father was King Magnus Eriingsson 
 
 Hakon. 
 
 Ay, if your father, Erling Steinvseg, was indeed King 
 Magnus's son; but most folks deny it, and in that matter 
 none has yet faced the ordeal. 
 
 Sigurd Ribbung. 
 
 The Ribbungs chose me as king of their own free will, 
 whereas 'twas by threats that Dagfinn the Peasant and 
 other Birchlegs* gained for you the name of King. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Ay, so 111 had you dealt with "Norway that the stock 
 of Sverre had to claim its right with threats. 
 
 GUTHOKM InGESSON. 
 
 I am of the stock of Sverre as much as you 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 But not in the true male line. 
 
 'The "Birkebeiner" or Birchlegs were at this period a political 
 faction. They were so called because, at the time of their first ap- 
 pearance, when they seem to have been little more than bandits, 
 they eked out their scanty attire by making themselves leggings of 
 birch-bark. Norway at this time swarmed with factions, such as 
 the "Bagler" or Croziers (Latin, haculus), so called because Bishop 
 Nicholas was their chief, the Ribbungs, the Slittungs, etc., devoted, 
 for the most part, to one or other of the many Pretenders to the 
 crown, 
 
162 THE PRETENDERS [acti 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 You come on the spindle side, Guthorm. 
 
 GUTHORM InGESSON. 
 
 , Yet this I know, that my father, Inge Bardsson, was 
 lawfully chosen king of Norway. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Because none knew that Sverre's grandson was alive. 
 From the day that became known, he held the kingdom 
 in trust for me — not otherwise. 
 
 Eahl Skule. 
 
 That cannot truly be said; Inge was king all his days, 
 with all lawful power and without reserve. 'Tis true 
 enough that Guthorm has but little claim, for he was bom 
 out of wedlock; but I am King Inge's lawfully begotten 
 brother, and the law is with me if I claim, and take, his 
 full inheritance. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Ah, Sir Earl, of a truth you have taken full inheri- 
 taijce, not of your father's wealth alone, but of all the 
 goods Hakon Sverresson left behind him. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Not all, good Dagfinn. Respect the truih; — King 
 Hakon has kept a brooch and the golden ring he wears 
 on his arm. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Be that as it will; with God's help I shall win myself 
 wealth again. And now, ye barons and thanes, ye 
 
ACT I] THE PRETENDERS 163 
 
 churchmen and chieftains and men-at-arms, now it is 
 time we held the folkmote, as has been agreed. I have 
 sat with bound hands until this day; methinks no man 
 will blame me for longing to have them loosed. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 There are others in like case, Hakon Hakonsson. 
 
 HAkon. 
 [His attention arrested.] What mean you. Sir Earl ? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 I mean that all we Pretenders have the same cause for 
 longing. We have. all alike been straitly bound, for none 
 of us has known how far his right might reach. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 The Church has been even as unstable as the king- 
 dom; but now must we abide by the sainted King Olaf's 
 law. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Half aloud.] Fresh subtleties! 
 
 [HAkon's men gather more closely together. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [With forced calmness, advances a couple of paces 
 towards the Earl.] I would fain think I have not rightly 
 taken your meaning. The ordeal has made good my 
 birthright to the kingdom, and therefore, as I deem, the 
 folkmote has nought to do but to confirm my election, 
 made at the Orething* six years ago. 
 
 'A "thing," or assembly, held from time to time on the "ore" 
 or foreshore at the mouth of the river Nid, at Trondhiem. 
 
164 THE PRETENDERS [acti 
 
 Several of the Earl's and Sigurd's Men. 
 No, no! That we deny! 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 'Twas with no such thought that we agreed to hold 
 the folkmote here. The ordeal has not given you the 
 kingdom; it has but proved your title to come forward 
 to-day, along with the other Pretenders here present, and 
 contend for the right you hold to be yours 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Constraining himself to be calm.] That means, in 
 brief, that for six years I have unlawfully borne the name 
 of King, and you. Sir Earl, have for six years unlawfully 
 ruled the land as regent for me. 
 
 Earl Skule.' 
 
 In no wise. When my brother died, 'twas needful that 
 some one should bear the kjngly title. The Birchleg^, 
 and most of all Dagfinn the Peasant, were active in your 
 cause, and hastened your election through before we 
 others could set forth our claims. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [To Hakon.] The Earl would sa,y that that election 
 gave you but the use of the kingly power, not the right 
 to it. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 You have held all the marks of kingship; but Sigurd 
 Ribbung and Guthorm Ingesson and I hold ourselves to 
 
ACTi] THE PRETENDERS 165 
 
 the full as near inheritors as you ; and now shall the law 
 judge between us, and say whose shall be the inheritance 
 for all time. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 In truth. Earl Skule reads the case aright. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 There has been talk more than once in these years of 
 both ordeal and folkmote; but Something has ever come 
 between. And, Sir Hakon, if you deemed your right for 
 ever fixed by the first election, how came you to accept 
 the ordeal ? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Exasperated.] To your swords. King's men, let 
 them decide ! 
 
 « 
 Many of the King's Men. 
 
 [Rushing forv)ard.] Down with the King's enemies ! 
 
 Eahl Skule. 
 
 [Calls to his men.} Slay none! Wound none! Only 
 keep them off. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Restraining his men.] Up with your blades, all who 
 have drawn them! — Up with your blades, I say! [Calm- 
 ly.] You make things tenfold worse for me by such do- 
 ings. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Even so are men flying at each other's throats all the 
 country over. You see now, Hakon Hakonsson; does 
 
166 THE PRETENDERS [act i 
 
 not this show clearly what you have to do, if you care 
 aught for the country's peace and the lives of men ? 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [After some reflection.] Yes — I see it. [Takes Inga 
 by the hand and turns to one of those standing by Jiim.\ 
 Torkell, you were a trusty man in my father's guard ; take 
 this wonlan to your own abode and see you tend her well; 
 she was very dear to Hakon Sverresson. — ^God bless you, 
 my mother, — now I must gird me for the folkmote. [Inga 
 presses his hand, and goes with Torkell. HIkon is 
 silent awhile, then steps forward and says with emphasis:] 
 The law shall decide, and it alone. Ye Birchlegs who, 
 at the Orething, took me for your King, I free you from 
 the oath ye sware to me. You, Dagfinn, are no longer 
 my marshal; I will not appear with marshal or with 
 guard,' with vassals or with henchmen. I am a poor 
 man; all my inheritance is a brooch and this gold ring; 
 — these are scant goods wherewith to reward so many 
 good men's service. Now, ye other Pretenders, now we 
 stand equal; I will have no advantage of you, save the 
 right which I have from above — t h a t I neither can nor 
 will share with any one. — Let the assembly-call be 
 sounded, and then let God and the Holy King Olaf's 
 law decide. 
 
 [Goes out with his men to the left; blasts of trumpets 
 and horns are heard in the distance. 
 
 ' The word hird is very difficult to render. It meant something 
 between "court," "household," and "guard." I have never trans- 
 lated it "court," as that word seemed to convey an idea of peaceful 
 civilisation foreign to the country and period; but I have used either 
 "guard"' or "household" as the context seemed to demand. Hird- 
 mand I have generally rendered "man-at-arms." Lendermand I 
 have represented by "baron"; lagmand and sysselmandhy "thane"; 
 and stallare by "marshal" — all mere rough approximations. 
 
ACT I] THE PRETENDERS 167 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 
 [To the Earl, as the crowd is departing.] Methought 
 you seemed afraid during the ordeal, and now you look 
 so glad and of good cheer. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Well at ease.] Marked you that he had Sverre's eyes 
 as he spoke ? Whether he or I be chosen king, the choice 
 will be good. 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 
 [Uneasily.] But do not you give way. Think of all 
 who stand or fall with your cause. 
 
 Earle Skule. 
 
 I stand now upon justice ; I no longer fear to call upon 
 Saint Olaf. [Goes out to the left with his followers. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas.' - - 
 
 [Hastening after Dagfinn the Peasant.] All goes 
 well, good Dagfinn, all goes well; — but keep the Earl far 
 from the King when he is chosen; — see you keep them 
 far apart! [All go out to the left, behind the church. 
 
 A hall in the Palace. In front, on the left, is a low win- 
 dow; on the right, the entrance-door; at the back^ a 
 larger door which leads into the King's Hall. By 
 the window, a table; chairs and benches stand about. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild and Margrete enter by the smaller 
 door; Sigrid follows immediately. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 In here ? 
 
168 THE PRETENDERS [act i 
 
 Margrete. 
 Ay, here it is darkest. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [Goes to the window.] And here we can look down 
 upon the mote-stead. 
 
 Mahgrete. 
 
 [Looks out cautiously.] Ay, there they are, all gathered 
 behind the church. [Turns, in tears ^ Yonder must 
 now betide what will bring so much in its train. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 Who will be master in this hall to-morrow? 
 
 Margrete. 
 Oh, hush ! So heavy a day I had never thought to see. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 It had to be; to rule in another's name was no full 
 work for him. 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 Ay, it had to be; he could never rest content with 
 but the name of king. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 Of whom speak you ? 
 
 Margrete. 
 Of Hakon. 
 
ACT I] THE PRETENDERS 169 
 
 Ladt Ragnhild. 
 I spoke of the Earl. 
 
 Mabgbete. 
 There breathe not nobler men than they two. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 See you Sigurd Ribbung ? With what a look of evil 
 cunning he sits there — like a wolf in chains. 
 
 Makgrete. 
 
 Ay, see! — He folds his hands before him on his sword- 
 hilt and rests his chin upon them. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 « 
 He bites his beard and laughs 
 
 Margrete. 
 'Tis an evil laugh. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 He knows that none will further his cause; — 'tis that 
 which makes him wroth. Who is yonder thane that 
 speaks now? 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 That is Gunnar Grionbak. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 Is he for the Earl ? 
 
170 THE PRETENDERS [acti 
 
 Mahgkete. 
 No, he is for the King 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 [Looking at her.] For whom say you ? 
 
 Makghete. 
 For Hakon Hakonsson. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [Looks out; after a short pause.'] Where sits Guthorm 
 Ingesson ? — I see him not. 
 
 Marghete. 
 Behind his men, lowest of all there — in a long mantle. 
 
 , Lady Ragnhild. 
 Ay, there. 
 
 Margbete. 
 
 He looks as though he were ashamed 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 That is for his mother's sake. 
 
 Margbete. 
 So looked not Hakon. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 Who speaks now ? 
 
ACTi] THE PRETENDERS 171 
 
 Margkete. 
 [Looking out.] Tord Skolle, the thane of Ranafylke. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 Is h e for the Earl ? 
 
 Margrete. 
 No — for Hakon. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 How motionless the Earl sits listening! 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 H&kon seems thoughtful — but strong none the less. 
 [With animation.] If there came a traveller from afar, he 
 could pick out those two amongst all the thousand others. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 See, Margrete! Dagfinn the Peasant drags forth a 
 gilded chair for Hakon 
 
 Margrete. 
 Paul Flida places one like it behind the Earl 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 HAkon's men seek to hinder it! 
 
 Margrete. 
 The Earl holds fast to the chair ^! 
 
172 THE PRETENDERS [act i 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 H&kon speaks wrd.thfully to him. [Starts back, with a 
 cry, from the vnndow.] Lord Jesus! Saw you his eyes 
 — and his smile ! No, that was not the Earl! 
 
 Makgrete. 
 
 [Who has followed her in terror.] 'Twas not H&kon 
 either! Neither one nor the other! 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 [At the ivindow.] Oh pitiful! Oh pitiful! 
 
 Margbete. 
 Sigrid ! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 You here! 
 
 SiGRlD. 
 
 Goes the path so low that leads up to the throne! 
 
 Mabgrete. 
 Oh, pray with us, that all be guided for the best. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [White and horrorrstricken, to Sigrid.] Saw you 
 
 him ? Saw you my husband ? His eyes and 
 
 his smile — I should not have known him! t\/i?^{jib\ 
 
 Sigrid. 
 Looked he like Sigurd Ribbung? 
 
ACTi] THE PRETENDERS 173 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 [Softly.] Ay, he looked like Sigurd Ribbung. 
 
 SiGBID. 
 
 Laughed he like Sigurd ? ' 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 Ay, ay! 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 Then must we all pray. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [With the force of despair.] The Earl must be 
 chosen King! 'Twill work ruin in his soul if he be not 
 the first man in the land! 
 
 SiGBID. 
 
 [More loudly.] Then must we all pray! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 Hist! What is that ? [At the vnndow.] What 
 shouts! All the men have risen; all the banners and 
 standards wave in the wind. 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 [Seizes her by the arm.] Pray, woman! Pray for 
 your husband! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 Ay, Holy King Olaf, give him all the power in this 
 land! 
 
174 THE PRETENDERS [acti 
 
 SiGEID. 
 
 [Wildly.] None — none! Else is he lost! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 He must have the power. All the good in him will 
 grow and blossom should he win it. — Look forth, Mar- 
 grete! Listen! [Starts back a step.] All hands are 
 lifted for an oath! [Makgbete listens at the window. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 God and St. Olaf, to whom do they swear? 
 
 ' SlGHID. 
 
 Pray! 
 
 [Margrete listens, and with uplifted hand motions 
 for silence. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [After a little while.] Speak! 
 
 [From the mote-stead is heard a loud blast of trumpets 
 and horns. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 God and St. Olaf! To whom have they sworn? 
 
 [A short pause. 
 
 Mahgrete. 
 
 [Turns her head and says:] They have chosen Hakon 
 Hakonsson king. 
 
 [The music of the royal procession is heard, first in 
 the distance and then nearer and nearer. Lady 
 Ragnhild clings weeping to Sigrid, who leads her 
 quietly out on the right; Margrete remains imr 
 
ACT I] THE PRETENDERS 175 
 
 movable, leaning against the window-frame. The 
 King's attendants open the great doors, disclosing 
 the interior of the Hall, which is gradually filled 
 by the procession from the mote-stead. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [In the doorway, turning to Ivar Bodde.] Bring me 
 a pen and wax and silk — I have parchment here. [Ad- 
 vances exultantly to the table and spreads some rolls of 
 parchment upon it.] Margrete, now am I King! 
 
 Mahgbete. 
 Hail to my lord and King! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 I thank you. [Looks at her a^ takes her hand.] For- 
 give me; I forgot that it must wound you. 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 [Drawing her hand away.] It did not wound me; — 
 of a surety you are born to be king. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [With animation.] Ay, must not all men own it, who 
 remember how marvellously God and the saints have 
 shielded me from all harm ? I was but a year old when 
 the Birchlegs bore me over the mountains, in frost and 
 storm, and through the very midst of those who sought 
 my life. At Nidaros I came scatheless from the Baglers' 
 when they burnt the town with so great a slaughter, while 
 ' See note, p. 161. 
 
176 THE PRETENDERS [act i 
 
 King Inge himself barely saved his life by climbing on 
 shipboard up the anchor-cable. 
 
 Marghete. 
 Your youth has been a hard one. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [Looking steadily at her.] Methinks you might have 
 made it easier. 
 
 Mabghete. 
 I? 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 You might have been so good a foster-sister to me, 
 through all the years when we were growing up together. 
 
 Mahghete. 
 But it fell out otherwise. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Ay, it fell out otherwise; — we looked at each other, 
 I from my corner, you from yours, but we seldom 
 
 spoke [Impatienily.] What is keeping him ? [Ivar 
 
 BoDDE comes with the writing maierials^ Are you there ? 
 Give me the things! 
 
 [HA.KON seats himself at the table and writes. A lit- 
 tle while after. Earl Skule comes in; then Dag- 
 FiNN THE Peasant, Bishop Nicholas and Ve- 
 gabd v^kadal. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 \Lookis up and lays down his pen.] Know you. Sir 
 Earl, what I am writing here? [The Earl approaches.] 
 
ACT I] THE PRETENDERS 177 
 
 This is to my mother? I thank her for all her love, and 
 kiss her a thousand times — here in the letter you under- 
 stand. She is to be sent eastward to Borgasyssel, there 
 to live with all queenly honours. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 You will not keep her in the palace ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 She is too dear to me, Earl; — a king must have none 
 about him whom he loves too well. A king must afct with 
 free hands; he must stand alone; he must neither be led 
 nor lured. There is so much to be mended in Norway. 
 
 [Goes on writing. 
 
 Vegakd Vteradal. 
 
 [Softly to Bishop Nicholas.]' 'Tis by my counsel he 
 deals thus with Inga, his mother. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 I knew your hand in it at once. 
 
 Vegard V^radal. 
 -But now one good turn deserves another. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Wait. I will keep my promise. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [Gives the parchment to Ivar Bodde.] Fold it to- 
 gether and bear it to her yourself, with many loving 
 greetings 
 
178 THE PRETENDERS [acti 
 
 IVAB BODDE. 
 
 [Who has glanced at the parchment.] My lord— you 
 write here — "to-day ' ' ! 
 
 HAkon. 
 The wind is fair for a southward course. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Slowly.] Bethink you, my lord King, that she has 
 lain all night on the altar-steps in prayer and fasting. 
 
 IVAK BoDDE. 
 
 And she may well be weary after the ordeal. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 True, true;— my good, kind mother ! [Collects 
 
 ' himself.] Well, if she be too weary, let her wait until 
 to-morrow. 
 
 IVAR BoDDE. 
 
 It shall be as you will. [Puts another parchment for- 
 ward.] But this other, my lord. 
 
 HAkon. 
 That other? — Ivar Bodde, I cannot. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 [Points to the letter for Inga.] Yet you could do that. 
 
 IvAK Bodde. 
 All things sinful must be put away. 
 
ACT I] THE PRETENDERS 179 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Who has drawn near in the meantime.] Bind the 
 Earl's hands, King Hakon. 
 
 HAkon. 
 [In a low voice.] Think you that is needful ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 At no cheaper rate can you buy peace in the land. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Then I can do it! Give me the pen! [Writes. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 [To the Bishop, who crosses to the right.] You have 
 the King's ear, it would seem. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 For your behoof. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 Say you so ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Before nightfall you will thank me. 
 
 [He Tnoves away. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Hands the Eabl the parchment.] Read that. Earl 
 Skule. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 [Reads, looks in surprise at the King, and says in a low 
 voice.] You break with Kanga the Young? 
 
180 THE PRETENDERS [act i 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 With Kanga whom I have loved more than all the 
 world. From this day forward she must never more 
 cross the King's path. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 This that you do is a great thing, Hakon. Mine own 
 memory tells me what it must cost. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Whoever is too dear to the King must away. — Tie 
 up the letter. [Gives it to Ivah Bodde. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Bending over the chair.] You have made a great stride 
 towards the Earl's friendship, my lord King. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [Holds out his hand to him.] I thank you, Bishop 
 Nicholas; you counselled me for the best. Ask a grace 
 of me, and I will grant it. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Will you ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 I promise it on my kingly faith. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Then make Vegard Vseradal thane of Halogaland. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Vegard ? He is well-nigh the trustiest friend I have; 
 I am loath to send him so far from me. 
 
ACTi] THE PRETENDERS 181 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 The King's friend must be royally rewarded. Bind 
 the Earl's hands as I have counselled you, and you will 
 be secure for ever and a day. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Takes a sheet of parchment.] Vegard shall bear rule 
 in Halogaland. [Writing.] I hereby grant it under my 
 royal hand. [The Bishop retires. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 [Approaches the table.] What write you now ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 [Hands him the sheet.] Read. 
 
 Eahl Skule. 
 
 [Reads, and looks steadily at the King.] Vegard Vaera- 
 dal ? In Halogaland ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 The northern part stands vacant. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 Bethink you that Andres Skialdarband' has also a 
 charge in the north. They two are bitter foes; — Andres 
 Skialdarband is of my following 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Smiling and rising.] And Vegard Vseradal of mine. 
 Therefore they must e'en make friends again, the sooner 
 • Pronounce Shaldarhand. 
 
182 THE PRETENDERS [act i 
 
 the better. Henceforth there must be no enmity between 
 the King's men and the Earl's. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Ha! — this may go too far. [Approaches, uneasy. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 Your thoughts are wise and deep, Hakon. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [Warmly.] Earl Skule, to-day have I taken the king- 
 dom from you— let your daughter share it with me! 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 My daughter! 
 
 Makgrete. 
 Oh. God! 
 
 Hakon. 
 
 Margrete, will you be my Queen ? 
 
 [Marghete is silent. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Takes her hand.] Answer me. 
 
 Margrete. 
 [Softly.] I will gladly be your wife. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Pressing HAkon's hand.] Peace and friendship from 
 my heart! 
 
ACTi] THE PRETENDERS 183 
 
 HA.KON. 
 
 I thank you. 
 
 IVAH BODDE. 
 
 [jTo Dagfinn.] Heaven be praised ; here is the dawn. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 I almost beUeve it. Never before have I liked the 
 Earl so well. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Behind him.] Ever on your guard, good Dagfinn — 
 ever on your guard. 
 
 IVAR BoDDE. 
 
 [To Vegabd.] Now are you thane in Halogaland; 
 here you have it under the King's hand. 
 
 [Gives him the letter. 
 
 Vegabd V^ebadal. 
 
 I will thank the King for his favour another time. 
 
 ' [About to go. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Stops him.] Andres Skialdarband is an ugly neigh- 
 bour; be not cowed by him. 
 
 Vegabd V^^ebadal. 
 No one has yet cowed Vegard Vseradal. [Goes. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Following.'] Be as rock and flint to Andres Skialdar- 
 band, — and, while I think on't, take my blessing with you. 
 
184 THE PRETENDERS [acti 
 
 IVAR BODDE. 
 
 [Who has been waiting behind the King with the parch- 
 ments in his hand.] Here are the letters, my lord. 
 
 HIkon. 
 Good; give them to the Earl. 
 
 IVAR BoDDE. 
 
 To the Earl ? Will you not seal them ? 
 
 HIkon. 
 The Earl is wont to do that; — he holds the seal. 
 
 IVAB BoDDE. 
 
 [Softly.] Ay, hitherto — while he was regent — but 
 now! 
 
 Hakon. 
 
 Now as before; — the Earl holds the seal. 
 
 [Moves away. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 Give me the letters, Ivar B^dde. 
 
 [Goes to the table with them, takes out the Great Seal 
 which he wears under his girdle, and seals the 
 letters during the following. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Muttering.] Hakon Hakonsson is King — and the 
 Earl holds the royal seal; — I like that — I like that. 
 
ACTi] THE PRETENDERS 185 
 
 HAkon. 
 Whai says my lord Bishop ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 I say that God and St. Olaf watch over their holy 
 church. [Goes into the King's Hall. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Approaching Margrete.] A wise queen can do 
 great things in the land: I chose you fearlessly, for I 
 know you are wise. 
 
 Margrete. 
 Only that ? 
 
 HIkon. 
 What mean you ? 
 
 Margrete. 
 Nothing, my lord, nothing. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 And you will bear me no grudge if for my sake you 
 have had to forgo fair hopes ? 
 
 Margrete. 
 I have forgone no fair hopes for your sake. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 And you will stand ever near me, and give me good 
 counsel ? 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 I would fain stand near to you. 
 
186 THE PRETENDERS [act i 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 And give me good counsel. I thank you for that; 
 a woman's counsel profits every man, and henceforth I 
 have none but you — my mother I had to send away ■ 
 
 Maegrete. 
 Ay, she was too dear to you 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 And I am King. Farewell then, Margrete ! You are 
 so young yet; but next summer shall our bridal be, — 
 and from that hour I swear to keep you by my side in 
 all seemly faith and honour. 
 
 Mahghete. 
 
 [Smiles sadly.] Ay, 'twill be long, I know, ere you 
 send me away. 
 
 HAkon. 
 [Brightly.] Send you away.!* That will I never do. 
 
 Margbete. 
 
 [With tears in her eyes.] No, that Hakon does only 
 to those who are too dear to him. 
 
 [She goes towards the entrance door. HAkon gazes 
 thoughtfully after her. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [From the right.] The King and the Earl tarry here 
 so long! My fears are killing me; — Margrete, what has 
 the King said and done ? 
 
ACT I] THE PRETENDERS 187 
 
 Mahgrete. 
 
 Oh, much, much! Last of all, he chose a thane and 
 a Queen. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 You, Margrete? 
 
 Marqbete. 
 [Throws her arms round her mother's neck.] Yes! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 You are to be Queen! 
 
 Makghete. 
 
 Queen only; — but I think I am glad even of that. 
 
 [She and her mother go out to the right. 
 
 Eakl SktTle. 
 
 [To IvAR BoDDE.] Here are our letters; bear them 
 to the King's mother and to Kanga. 
 
 [IvAB BoDDE bows and goes. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [In the doorway of the hall.] The Archbishop of 
 Nidaros craves leave to offer King Hakon Hakonsson 
 his homage. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Draws a deep breath.] At last, then, I am King of 
 Norway. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Places the Great Seal in his girdle.] But I rule the 
 realm. 
 
ACT SECOND 
 
 Banquet Hall in the Palace at Bergen. A large hay- 
 window in the middle of the hack wall, along which 
 there is . a dais with seats for the ladies. Against 
 the left wall stands the throne, raised some steps 
 above the floor; in the centre of the opposite wall is 
 the great entrance door. Banners, standards, shields 
 and weapons, with many-coloured draperies, hang 
 from the wall-timhers and from the carven rafters. 
 Around the hall stand drinking-tables, with flagons, 
 horns, and beakers. 
 
 King HIkon sits upon the dais, with Mabgrete, Si- 
 GKiD, Lady Ragnhild, and many nohle ladies. 
 IvAB BoDDE stands behind the King's chair. Round 
 the drinking-tables are seated the King's and the 
 Earl's men, with guests. At the foremost table on 
 the right sit, among others, Dagfinn the Peasant, 
 Gkegoeius Jonsson, and Paul Flida. Earl 
 Skule and Bishop Nicholas are playing chess at 
 a table on the left. The Earl's house-folk go to and 
 fro, bearing cans of liquor. From an adjoining room, 
 music is heard during the following scene. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 The fifth day now wears on, yet the henchmen are 
 none the less nimble at setting forth the brimming 
 fiagons. 
 
 188 
 
ACTii] THE PRETENDERS^ 189 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 It was never the Earl's wont to stint his guests'. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 No, so it would seem. So royal a bridal-feast was 
 never seen in Norway before. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Earl Skule has never before given a daughter in 
 marriag€. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 True, true; the Earl is a mighty man. 
 
 A Man-at-Akms. 
 
 He holds a third part of the kingdom. That is more 
 than any earl has held heretofore. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 But the King's part is larger. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 We talk not of that here; we are friends now, and 
 fully at one. [Drinks to Paul.] So let King be King 
 and Earl be Earl. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [Laicghs.] 'Tis easy to hear that you are a King's 
 man. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 That should the Earl's men also be. 
 
190 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Never. We have sworn fealty to the Earl, not to the 
 King. 
 
 Dagpinn. 
 
 That may yet have to be done. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [To the Eabl, under cover of the game.] Hear you 
 what Dagfinn the Peasant says ? 
 
 Eahl Skule. 
 [Without looking up.] I hear. 
 
 Gkegorius Jonsson. 
 
 [Looking steadily at Dagfinn.] Has the King thoughts 
 of that ? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Nay, nay, — let be; — no wrangling to-day. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 The King would force your men to swear him fealty. 
 Earl. 
 
 Gregoritjs Jonsson. 
 
 [Louder.] Has the King thoughts of that, I ask ? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 I will not answer. Let us drink to peace and friend- 
 ship between the King and the Earl. The ale is good. 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 191 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 It has had time enough to mellow. 
 
 Gregohius Jonsson. 
 
 Three times has the Earl prepared the bridal — three 
 times the King promised to come — three times he came 
 not. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Blame the Earl for that: he gave us plenty to 
 do in Viken. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 'Tis said Sigurd Ribbung gave you still more to do in 
 Vermeland. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Flaring up.] Ay, and who" was it that let Sigurd 
 Ribbung slip through their fingers ? 
 
 Gregobius Jonsson. 
 
 Sigurd Ribbung fled from us at Nidaros, that all 
 men know. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 But no man knows that you did aught to hinder him. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [To the Earl, who is pondering on a move.] Hear 
 you. Earl ? It was you who let Sigurd Ribbung escape. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 [Makes a move.] That is an old story. 
 
192 THE PRETENDERS [actii 
 
 Gregobius Jonsson. 
 
 Have you not heard, then, of the Icelander Andres 
 Torsteinsson, Sigurd Ribbung's friend^ — 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Ay; when Sigurd had escaped, you hanged the Ice- 
 lander — that I know. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Makes a move and says laughingly to the Earl.] I 
 take the pawn, Sir Earl.' 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [^Zpwrf.] Take him; a pawn is of small account. 
 
 [Makes a irvove. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Ay; that the Icelander found to his cost, when Sigurd 
 Ribbung escaped to Vermeland. 
 
 [Suffressed laughter amongst the King's Tnen; the 
 conversation is continued in a low tone; presently a 
 man comes inand whispers to Gbegorius Jonsson. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Then I move here, and you have lost. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 So it would seem. 
 
 •Bishop Nicholas's speech, "Nu slar jeg bonden, herre jarl," 
 means literally, "Now I strike (or slay) the peasant"; the pawn 
 being called in Norwegian "bonde," peasant, as in German "Bauer." 
 Thus in this speech and the next the Bishop and the Earl are gird- 
 ing at Dagfinn the Peasant. [Our own word "pawn" comes from 
 the Spanish peon=a, foot-soldier or day-labourer.] 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 193 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Leaning back in his chair.] You did not guard the 
 king well at the last. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 [Strews the pieces topsy-turvy and rises.] I have long 
 been weary of guarding kings. 
 
 Gkegorius Jonsson. 
 
 [Approaches and says in a low tone.] Sir Earl, Jos- 
 tein ' Tamb sends word that the ship now lies ready 
 for sea. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Softly.] Good. [Takes out a sealed parchment.] 
 Here is the letter. 
 
 Gregokius Jonsson. 
 
 [Shaking his head.] Earl, Earl, — is this well be- 
 thought .'' 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 What? 
 
 Gbegorius Jonsson. 
 
 It bears the King's seal. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 I am acting for the King's good. 
 
 Gbegobius Jonsson. 
 
 Then let the King himself reject the offer. 
 ' Pronounce Yostein. 
 
194 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 That he will not, if he has his own way. His whole 
 heart is bent on cowing the Ribbungs, therefore he is 
 fain to secure himself on other sides. 
 
 Gregohius Jonsson. 
 Your way may be wise, — but it is dangerous. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Leave that to me. Take the letter, and bid Jostein 
 sail forthwith. 
 
 Gregohius Jonsson. 
 
 It shall be as you command. 
 [Goes Old to the right, and presently comes in again. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [To the Earl.] You have much to see to, it would 
 seem. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 But small thanks for it. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 The King has risen. 
 [HA.KON comes down; all the men rise from the tables. 
 
 HAkon 
 
 [To the Bishop.] We are rejoiced to see you bear up 
 so bravely and well through all these days of merriment. 
 
ACTii] THE PRETENDERS 196 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 There comes a flicker now and again, my lord King; 
 but 'twill scarce last long. I have lain sick all the winter 
 through. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Ay, ay, — ^you have lived a strong life, rich in deeds 
 of fame. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Shakes his head.] Ah, 'tis little enough I have done, 
 and I have much still left to do. If I but knew whether 
 I should have time for it all! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 The living must take up the tasks of those who go 
 before, honoured lord; we all have the welfare of the 
 land at heart. [Turns to the "Eahl.] I marvel much 
 at one thing: that neither of our thanes from Haloga- 
 land has come to the bridal. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 True; I doubted not that Andres Skialdarband would 
 be here. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [Smiling.] And Vegard Vseradal too. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Ay, Vegard too. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [In jest.] And I trust you would now have received 
 my old friend better than you did seven years ago on 
 
196 THE PRETENDERS [actii 
 
 Oslo wharf, when you stabbed him in the cheek so 
 that the blade cut its way out. 
 
 Eahl Skxtle. 
 
 [With a forced laugh.] Ay, the time that Gunnulf, 
 your mother's brother, cut off the right hand of Sira 
 Eiliv, my best friend and counsellor. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Merrily.] And when Dagfinn the Peasant and the 
 men-at-arms set a strong night-watch on the King's ship,, 
 saying that the King was unsafe in the Earl's ward .' 
 
 HAkon. 
 ' [Seriously.] Those days are old and forgotten. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Approaching.] Now may we sound the call to the 
 weapon-sports on the green, if so please you, my lord. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Good. To-day will we give up to nought but merri- 
 ment; to-morrow we must turn our thoughts again to 
 the Ribbungs and the Earl of Orkney. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Ay, he denies to pay tribute, is it not so? 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Were I once well rid of the Ribbungs, I would myself 
 fare westward. 
 
 [HA.KON goes towards the dais, gives his hand to 
 Mabgkete, and leads her out to the right; the 
 others gradually follow. 
 
ACTii] THE PRETENDERS 197 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [To IvAK BoDDE.] Who is the man called Jostein 
 Tamb? 
 
 IVAR BoDDE. 
 
 There is a trader from Orkney who bears that name. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 From Orkney? So, so! And now he sails home 
 again ? 
 
 IVAB BoDDE. 
 
 So I think. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [Softly.] With a precious freight, Ivar Bodde. 
 
 IVAR Bo^DE. 
 
 Corn and raiment, most like. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 And a letter from Earl Skule. 
 
 Ivar Bodde. 
 [Starting.] To whom ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 I know not; it bore the King's seal 
 
 Ivar Bodde. 
 
 [Seizes him by the arm.] Lord Bishop, — is it as you 
 say? 
 
198 THE PRETENDERS actii 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Hush! Do not mix me up in the matter. [Retires. 
 
 IVAH BODDE. 
 
 Then must I straightway Dagfinn the Peasant! 
 
 Dagfinn! Dagfinn ! 
 
 [Pushes through the crowd towards the door. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [In a tone of commiseration, to Gbegorius Jonsson.] 
 Never a day but one or another must suflFer in goods or 
 freedom. 
 
 Gkegobius Jonsson. 
 Who is it now ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 A poor trader, — Jostein Tamb methinks they called 
 him. 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 Jostein ? . 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Dagfinn the Peasant would forbid him to set sail. 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 Dagfinn would forbid him, say you ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 He went even now. 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 Pardon, my lord; I must make speed 
 
ACT .11] THE PRETENDERS 199 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Ay, do even so, my dear lord; — Dagfinn the Peasant 
 is so hasty. 
 
 [Gkegorius Jonsson hastens out to the right along 
 with the remainder of the company; only Earl 
 Skule and Bishop Nicholas are left behind in 
 the hall. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Walks up and down in deep thought; he seems sud- 
 denly to awaken; looks round him, and says:] How still 
 it has become here of a sudden! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 The King has gone. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 And every one has followed him. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 All, save us. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 It is a great thing to be King. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [Tentatively.] Are you fain to try it, Earl? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [With a serious smile.] I have tried it; every night 
 that brings me sleep makes me King of Norway. 
 
200 THE PRETENDERS [jlct u 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Dreams forbode. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Ay, and tempt. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Not you, surely. In bygone days, that I could under- 
 stand — but now, when you hold a third part of the king- 
 dom, rule as the first man in the land, and are the 
 Queen's father 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Now most of all — now most of all. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Hide nothing! Confess; for verily I can see a great 
 pain is gnawing you. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Now most of all, I say. This is the great curse 
 that lies upon my whole life: to stand so near to the 
 highest, — with an abyss between. One leap, and on 
 the other side are the kingship, and the purple robe, 
 the throne, the might, and all! I have it daily before 
 my eyes — but can never reach it. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 True, Earl, true. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 When they made Guthorm Sigurdsson king, I was 
 in the full strength of my youth; it was as though a 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 201 
 
 voice cried aloud within me: Away with the child, — I 
 am the man, the strong man!— But Guthorm was the 
 king's son; there yawned an abyss between me and the 
 throne. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 And you dared not venture 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Then Erling Steinvseg was chosen by the Slittungs. 
 The voice cried within me again: Skule is a greater 
 chieftain than Erling Steinvseg! But I must needs have 
 broken with the Birchlegs, — t hat was the abyss that 
 time. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 And Erling became king of the Slittungs, and after 
 of the Ribbungs, and still you*waited! 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 I waited for Guthorm to die. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 And Guthorm died, and Inge Bardsson, your brother, 
 became king. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 Then I waited for my brother's death. He was 
 sickly from the first; every morning, when we met at 
 holy mass, I would cast stolen glances to see whether 
 his sickness increased. Every twitch of pain that 
 crossed his face was as a puff of wind in my sails, and 
 bore me nearer to the throne. Every sigh he breathed 
 
202 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 in his agony sounded to me like an echoing trumpet- 
 blast, like a herald from afar, proclaiming that the 
 throne should soon be mine. Thus I tore up by the 
 roots every thought of brotherly kindness; and Inge 
 died, and Hakon came — and ,the Birchlegs made him 
 king. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 And you waited. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 Methought help must come from abov?, I felt the 
 kingly strength within me, and I was growing old ; every 
 day that passed was a day taken from my life-work. 
 Each evening I thought: To-morrow will come the 
 miracle that shall strike him down and set me in the 
 empty seat. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Small was then Hakon's power; he was no more 
 than a child; it wanted but a single step from you — ^yet 
 you took it not. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 That step was hard to take; it would have parted 
 me from my kindred and from all my friends. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Ay, there is the rub, Earl Skule,^t hat is the 
 curse which has lain upon your life. You would fain 
 know every way open at need, — ^you dare not break all 
 your bridges and keep only one, defend it alone, and on 
 it conquer or fall. You lay snares for your foe, you set 
 traps for his feet, and hang sharp swords over his head ; 
 
ACT 11] THE PRETENDERS 203 
 
 you streyp poison in every dish, and you spread a hun- 
 dred nets for him; but When he walks into your toils 
 you dare not draw the string; if he stretch out his hand 
 for the poison, you think it safer he should fall by the 
 sword; if he is like to be caught in the morning, you 
 hold it wiser to wait till eventide. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 [Looking earnestly at him.] And what would you 
 do, my lord Bishop ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Speak not of me; my work is to build up thrones 
 in this land, not to sit on them and rule. 
 
 Eael Skule. 
 
 [After a short pause.] Answer me one thing, my 
 honoured lord, and answer me truly. How comes it 
 that Hakon can follow the straight path so unflinch- 
 ingly? He is no wiser, no bolder than I. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Who does the greatest work in this world? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 The greatest man. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 But who is the greatest man ? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 The bravest. 
 
204 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 So says the warrior. A priest would say: the man of 
 greatest faith, — a philosopher: the most learned. But 
 it is none of these, Earl Skule. The most fortu- 
 nate man' is the greatest man. It is the most fortu- 
 nate man that does the greatest deeds — he whom the 
 cravings of his time seize like a passion, begetting 
 thoughts he himself cannot fathom, and pointing to 
 paths which lead he knows not whither, but which he 
 follows and must follow till he hears the people shout 
 for joy, and, looking around him with wondering eyes, 
 finds that he has done a mighty deed. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 Ay, there is that unswerving confidence in Hakon. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 It is that which the Romans called ingenium. — Truly 
 I am not strong in Latin; but 'twas called ingenium. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Thoughtfully at first, afterwards in increasing excite- 
 ment.] Is Hakon made of other clay than mine ? The 
 fortunate man ?— Ay, does not everything thrive with 
 him? Does not everything shape itself for the best, 
 when he is concerned ? Even the peasants note it; they 
 say the trees bear fruit twice, and the fowls hatch out , 
 two broods every summer, whilst Hakon is king. Ver- 
 meland, where he burned and harried, stands smiling 
 
 ' Den lykkeligste mand. The word lykke means not only luck or 
 fortune, but happiness. To render lykkeligste completely, we should 
 require a word in which the ideas "fortunate" and "happy" should 
 be blent. 
 
ACT II] THE. PRETENDERS 205 
 
 with its houses built afresh, and its corn-lands bending 
 heavy-eared before the breeze. 'Tis .as though blood 
 and ashes fertilised the land where Hakon's armies 
 pass; 'tis as though the Lord clothed with double ver- 
 dure what Hakon has trampled down; 'tis as though 
 the holy powers made haste to blot out all evil in his 
 track. And how easy has been his path to the throne! 
 He needed that Inge should die early, and Inge died: 
 his youth needed to be watched and warded, and his 
 men kept watch and ward around him; he needed the 
 ordeal, and his mother arose and bore the iron for him. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [With an involuntary outburst.] But we — we two ! 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 We? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 You, I would say — what of you ? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 The right is Hakon's, Bishop. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 The right is his, for he is the fortunate one; 'tis 
 even the summit of fortune, to have the right. But by 
 what right has Hakon the right, and not you? 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 [After a short pause.] There are things I pray God 
 to save me from thinking upon. 
 
206 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 r* Saw you never an old picture in Christ's Church 
 at Nidaros? It shows the Deluge rising and rising 
 over all the hills, so that there is but one single peak 
 left above the waters. Up it clambers a whole house- 
 hold, father and mother and son and son's wife and 
 children; — and the son is hurling the father back into 
 the flood to gain better footing; and he will cast his 
 mother down and his wife and all his children, to win 
 to the top himself; — ^for up there he sees a handsbreadth 
 of ground, where he may keep life in him for an hour. — 
 That, Earl, that is the saga of wisdom, and the saga 
 
 *of every wise man. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 But the right 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 The son had the right. He had strength, and the 
 craving for life; — fulfil your cravings and use your 
 strength: so much right has every man. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 Ay, for that which is good. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 IT- Words, empty words! There is neither good nor 
 evil, up nor down, high nor low. You must forget 
 such words, else will you never take the last stride, 
 never leap the abyss. [In a subdued voice and in- 
 sistently.] You must not hate a party or a cause for 
 that the party or the cause would have this and 
 not that ; biit you must hate every man of a party 
 for that he is against you, and "you must hate all who 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 207 
 
 gather round a cause, for that the cause clashes with 
 your will. Whatever is helpful to you, is good — what- 
 ever lays stumbling-blocks in your path is evil. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 [Gazing thoughtfully before him.] What has that 
 throne not cost me, which yet I have not reached ! And 
 what has it cost Hakon, who now sits in it so securely! 
 I was young, and I forswore my sweet secret love to 
 ally myself with a powerful house. I prayed to the 
 saints that I might be blessed with a son — I got only 
 daughters. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Hakon will have sons. Earl — mark that! 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Crossing to the window on the right.] Ay — all things 
 fall out to Hdkon's wish. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 And you — will you suffer yourself to be outlawed 
 from happiness all your life through ? Are you blind ? 
 See you not that it is a stronger might than the Birch- 
 legs that stands at Hakon's back, and furthers all his 
 life-work ? He has help from above, from — from those 
 that are against you — from those that have been your 
 enemies, even from your birth! And will you bow be- 
 fore these your enemies? Rouse you, man; straighten 
 your back ! To what end got you your masterful soul ? 
 Bethink you that the first great deed in all the world 
 was done by one who rose against a mighty realm! 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Who ? 
 
208 THE PRETENDERS [actii 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 The angel who rose against the Hght! 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 And wAs hurled into the bottomless pit 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Wildly.] And founded there a kingdom, and made 
 himself a king, a mighty king — mightier than any of 
 the ten thousand — earls up yonder! 
 
 [Sinks down upon a bench beside the table. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Looks long at him.] Bishop Nicholas, are you some- 
 thing more or something less than a man ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Smiling.] I am in the state of innocence: I know 
 not good from evil. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 [Half to himself.] Why did they send me into the 
 World, if they meant not to order it better for me ? Ha- 
 kon has so firm and unswerving a faith in himself — 
 all his men have so firm and unswerving a faith in 
 him 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Let it not be seen that you have no such faith in 
 yourself! Speak as though you had it, swear great 
 oaths that you have it — and all will believe you. 
 
ACTii] THE PRETENDERS 209 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Had I a son! Had I but a son, to take all the great 
 heritage after me! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [Eagerly.] Earl — if you h a d a son ? 
 
 Earl Skule 
 I have none. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Hakon will have sons. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 [Wringing his hands.] And is king-born!* 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [Rising.] Earl — if he were not so? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Has he not proved it ? The ordeal 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 And if he were not — in spite of the ordeal ? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Do you say that God lied in the issue of the ordeal ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 What was it Inga of Varteig called upon God to 
 witness ? 
 
210 THE PRETENDERS [act n 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 That the child she bore in the eastland, in Borgasys- 
 sel, was the son of Hakon Sverresson. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Nods, looks round, and says softly.] And if King 
 Hakon were not that child ? 
 
 Eahl Skule. 
 
 [Stci,rts a step backwards.] . Great God ! [Controls 
 
 himself. ] It is beyond belief. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Hearken to me, Earl Skule. I have lived seventy 
 years and* six; it begins to go sharply downhill with 
 me now, and I dare not take this secret with me over 
 yonder 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 Speak, speak ! Is he not the son of Hakon Sverresson ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Hear me. It was known to none that Inga was 
 with child. Hakon Sverressoh was lately dead, and 
 doubtless she feared Inge Bardsson, who was then 
 king, and you, and — well, and the Baglers ' too mayhap. 
 She was brought to bed -secretly' in the house of Trond 
 the Priest, in Heggen parish, and after nine days she 
 departed homewards; but the child remained a whole 
 year with the priest, she not daring to look to it, and 
 none knowing that it breathed save Trond and his 
 two sons. 
 
 ' See note, p. 161. 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 211 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Ay, ay — and then? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 When the child was a year old, it could scarce be 
 kept hidden longer. So Inga made the matter known 
 to Erlend of Huseby — an old Birchleg of Sverre's days, 
 as you know. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Well? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 He and other chiefs from the Uplands took the child, 
 bore it over the mountains in midwinter, and brought 
 it to the King, who was then at Nidaros. 
 
 Eael Skule. 
 And yet you can say that -? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Needless to say, 'twas a dangerous task for a humble 
 priest to rear a king's child. So soon as the child was 
 born, he laid the matter before one of his superiors in 
 the church, and prayed for his counsel.. This his supe- 
 rior bade Trond send the true king's son with secrecy 
 to a place of safety, and give Inga another, if she or 
 the Birchlegs should afterwards ask for her child. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Indignantly.] And who was the hound that gave 
 that counsiel ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 It was I. 
 
212 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Eael Skule. 
 You? Ay, you have ever hated the race of Sverre. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 I deemed it not safe for the King's son to fall into 
 your hands. 
 
 Earl SKULfc. 
 But the priest ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Promised to do as I bade. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Seizing him by the arm.] And Hakon is the other 
 child ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 If the priest kept his promise". 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 I f he kept it ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Trond the Priest departed the land the same winter 
 that the child was brought to King Inge. He journeyed 
 to Thomas Becket's grave, and afterwards abode in 
 England till his death. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 He departed the land, say you ? Then must he have 
 changed the children and dreaded the vengeance of the 
 Birchlegs. 
 
ACTii] THE PRETENDERS 213 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Or he did not change the children, and dreaded 
 my vengeance. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Which surmise hold you for the truth ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Either may well be true. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 But the priest's sons of whom you spoke ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 They went with the crusaders to the Holy Laud. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 And there have since been no tidings of them ? 
 f 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Ay, tidings there have been. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Where are they ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 They were drowned in the Greek Sea on the journey 
 forth. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 And Inga ? 
 
214 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Knows nought, either of the priest's confession or of 
 my counsel. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 Her child was but nine days old when she left it, you 
 said? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Ay, and the cfiild she next saw was over a year 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Then no living creature can here bring light! [Paces 
 rapidly to and fro.] Almighty God, can this be true ? 
 Hakon — the King — he who holds sway over all this 
 land, not born of royal blood! — -And why should it not 
 be like enough ? Has not all fortune miraculously fol- 
 lowed him ? — Why not this also, to be taken as a child 
 from a poor cottar's hut and laid in a king's cradle ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Whilst the whole people believes that he is the king's 
 son 
 
 . Earl Skule. 
 
 Whilst he himself believes it. Bishop — t h a t is 
 the heart of his fortune, that is the girdle of strength! 
 [Goes to the window.] See how bravely he sits his horse! 
 None rides as he does. His eyes are filled with laughing, 
 dancing sunshine; he looks forth into the day as though 
 he knew himself created to go forward, ever forward. 
 [Turns towards the Bishop.] . I am a king's arm, may^ 
 hap a king's brain as well; but he is the whole King. 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 215 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Yet no king after all, mayhap. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Mayhap no king after all. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Lays his hand oh the Earl's shoulder.] Hearken to 
 me, Earl Skule 
 
 Eael Skule. 
 
 [Still looking out.] There sits the Queen. Hakon 
 speaks gently to her; she turns red and white with joy. 
 He took hpr to wife because it was wise to choose the 
 daughter of the mightiest man in the land. There was 
 then no thought of love for her in his heart; — but it 
 will come; Hakon has fortune ^ith him. She will shed 
 
 light over his life [Stops, and cries out in wonder.] 
 
 What is t h i s ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 What? ' 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 Dagfinn the Peasant bursts violently through the 
 crowd. Now he is giving the King some tidings. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Looking out from behind the Eabl.] Hakon seems 
 angered — does he not ? He clenches his fist 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 He looks hitherward — what can it be? [About to go. 
 
216 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Holding him back.] Hearken to me. Earl Skule — 
 there may yet be one means of winning assurance as 
 to Hakon's right. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 One means, you say? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Trond the Priest ere he died, wrote a letter telling his 
 whole tale, and took the sacrament in witness of its truth. 
 
 Eahl Skule. 
 And that letter — ^for God's pity's sake — where is it? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 You must know that [Looks towards the door.] 
 
 Hush! — here comes the King. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 The letter. Bishop — the letter! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 The King is here. 
 [HAkon enters, followed by his Guard and many guests. 
 Immediately afterwards, Margrete appears; she 
 seems anxious and alarmed, and is about to rush up 
 to the King, when she is restrained by Lady Ragn- 
 hild, who, with other ladies, has followed her. 
 SiGRiD stands somewhat apart, towards the back. 
 The Earl's men appear uneasy, and gather in a 
 group on the right, where Skule is standing, but 
 some way behind him. 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 217 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [In strong but repressed excitement.] Earl Skule, who 
 is king in this land ? 
 
 Earl Skule. ' 
 
 Who is king ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 That was my question. I bear the kingly title, but 
 who holds the kingly might? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 The kingly might should dwell with him who has 
 the kingly right. 
 
 HA.KON. 
 
 So should it be; but is it so? 
 
 ft 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Do you summon me to judgment? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 That I do; for that right I have toward every man 
 in the land. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 I fear not to answer for my dealings. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Well for us all if you can. [Mounts a step of throne- 
 dais, and leans upon one arm of the throne.] Here stand 
 I as your king, and ask: Know you that Jon, Earl of 
 Orkney, has risen against me ? ' 
 
218 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Yes. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 That he denies to pay me tribute ? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Yes. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 And is it true that you, Sir Earl„ have this day sent 
 him a letter? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 Who says so ? 
 
 IVAH BODDE. 
 
 That do I. 
 
 Dageinn. 
 
 Jostein Tamb dared not deny to carry it, since it bore 
 the King's seal. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 You write to the King's foes under the King's seal, 
 although, the King knows nought of what is written .'' 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 So have I done for many a year, with your good will. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Ay, in the days of your regency. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Never have you had aught but good thereby. Earl 
 Jon wrote to me praying that I would mediate on his 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 219 
 
 behalf; he oflFered peace, biit on terms dishonourable to 
 the King. The war in Verm eland has weighed much 
 upon your mind; had this matter been left to you, Earl 
 Jon had come too lightly off. I can deal better with him. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 'Twas our will to deal with him ourself. — And what 
 answer made you ? 
 
 Eael Skule. 
 Read my letter. 
 
 HIkon. 
 Give it me! 
 
 Eael Sktjle. 
 
 I deemed you had it. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Nay, you know better than that. Gregorius Jonsson 
 was too swift of foot; when we came on board, the 
 letter was gone. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Turns to Gregorius Jonsson.] Sir Baron, give the 
 King the letter. 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 [Coming close to him, uneasily.] Hearken, Earl ! 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 What now.'' 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 
 [Softly.] Bethink you, there were sharp words in it 
 concerning the King. 
 
220 THE PRETENDERS [actii 
 
 Eakl Sktjle. 
 My words I shall answer for. The letter! 
 
 Gbegoeius Jonsson. 
 I have it not. 
 
 Eahl Skule. 
 You have it not ? 
 
 Geegokius Jonsson. 
 
 Dagfinn the Peasant was at our heels. I snatched 
 the letter from Jostein Tamb, tied a stone to it 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 W^ll ? 
 
 Gkegoeius Jonsson. 
 It lies at the bottom of the fiord. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 You have done ill — ill. 
 
 HIkon. 
 I await the letter. Sir Earl. 
 
 Eael Skule. ' 
 
 I cannot give it you. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 You cannot ! 
 
 Eael Skule. 
 
 [Advancing a step towards the King.] My pride brooks 
 not to be put to shifts, as you and your men would call 
 it 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 221 
 
 HAkon. 
 [Controlling his rising wrath.] And so ? 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 . in one word — I will not give it you! 
 
 HIkon. 
 Then you defy me? 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 Since so it must be — yes, I defy you. 
 
 IVAB BODDE. 
 
 [Forcibly.] Now, my lord King, I scarce think you 
 or any man can now need further proof! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Nay, now I think we know the Earl's mind. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Coldly, to the Earl.] You will hand the Great Seal 
 to Ivar Bodde. 
 
 Mahgrete. 
 
 [Rushes with clasped hands towards the dais, where 
 the King is standing.] Hakon be a kind and gracious 
 husband to me! 
 
 [HAkon makes an imperative gesture towards her; 
 she hides her face in her veil, and goes up towards 
 her mother again. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 [To IvAH BoDDE.] Here is the Great Seal. 
 
222 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 IVAR BODDE. 
 
 This was to be the last evening of the feast. It has 
 ended in a heavy sorrow for the King; but sooner or 
 later it needs must come, and methinks every true man 
 must rejoice that it has come. 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 
 And I think every true man must feel bitter wrath 
 to see a priest thus make mischief between us Birchlegs; 
 — ay, Birchlegs, I say; for I am every whit as good a 
 Birchleg as the King or any of his men. I am of the 
 same stock, the stock of Sverre, the kingly stock — but 
 you. Priest, you have built up a wall of distrust around 
 the King, and shut me out from him; that has been 
 yoiir task this niany a year. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [Enraged, to the bystanders.] Earl's men! Shall we 
 abide this longer ? 
 
 GREGOHItrS JONSSON. 
 
 [Steps forward.] No, we can and will no more abide 
 it. 'Tis time to say it plainly — none of the Earl's men 
 can serve the King in full trust and love, so long as Ivar 
 Bodde comes and goes in the palace, and makes bad 
 blood between us. 
 
 Paul Plida. 
 
 Priest! I bid you look to life and limb, wheresoever 
 I meet you — in the field, on shipboard, or in any un- 
 consecrated house. 
 
 Many Eael's Men. 
 I too! I too! You are an outlaw to us! 
 
ACTii] THE PRETENDERS 223 
 
 IVAB BODDE. 
 
 God forbid that I should stand between the King 
 and so many mighty chieftains. — Hakon, my gracious 
 lord, my soul bears me witness that I have served you 
 in all faithfulness. True, I have warned you against 
 the Earl; but if I have ever done him wrong, I pray 
 God forgive me. Now havfe I no more to do in the 
 palace; here is your Seal; take it into your own hands; 
 there it should have rested long ago. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Who has come down from the dais.] You shall 
 remain ! 
 
 IVAR BoDDE. 
 
 I cannot. If I did, my conscience would gna.w and 
 rend me night and day. Greater evil can no man .do in 
 these times than to hold the Kiag and the Earl asunder. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Ivar Bodde, I command you to remain! 
 
 IvAR Bodde. 
 
 If the Holy King Olaf should rise from his silver 
 shrine to bid me stay, still I needs must go. [Places 
 the Seal in the King's hand.] Farewell, my noble 
 master! God bless and prosper you in all your work! 
 
 [Goes out through the crowd, to the 'right. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Gloomily, to the Eabl and his men.] There have I 
 lost a trusty friend for your sakes; what requital can 
 you offer to make good that loss? 
 
224 THE PRETENDERS [act n 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 I offer myself and all my friends. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 I almost fear 'twill not suffice. Now must I gather 
 round me all the men I can fully trust. Dagfinn the 
 Peasant, let a messenger set out forthwith for Haloga- 
 land; Vegard Vseradal must be recalled. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Who has been standing somewhat towards the back, 
 in conversation with a man in travelling dress who has 
 entered the hall, approaches and says with emotion i^ 
 Vegard cannot come, my lord. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 How know you that ? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 I have even now had tidings of him. 
 
 ELAkon. 
 
 What tidings? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 That Vegard Vseradal is slain. 
 
 Many Voices. 
 Slain! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Who slew him ? 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS ^25 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Andres Skialdarband, the Earl's friend. 
 [A short pause; uneasy whispers pass among the men. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Where is the messenger? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 [Leading the man forward.] Here, my lord King. 
 
 HAkon. 
 What caused the slaying? 
 
 The Messenger. 
 
 That no man knows. The talk fell upon the Finnish 
 tribute, and on a sudden Andres sprang up and gave 
 him his death-wound. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Had there been quarrels between them before? 
 
 The Messenger. 
 
 Ever and anon. Andres would often say that a wise 
 councillor here in the south had written to him that he 
 should be as rock and flint toward Vegard Vseradal. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Strange! Ere Vegard set forth he told me that a 
 wise councillor had said h e should be as rock and 
 flint toward Andres Skialdarband. 
 
226 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [Spitting.] Shame upon such councillors. 
 
 HAkon. / 
 
 We will not question more closely from what root this 
 wrong has grown. Two faithful souls have I lost this 
 day. I could weep for Vegard, but 'tis no time for 
 weeping; it must be life for life. Sir Earl, Andres 
 Skialdarband is your sworn retainer; you offered me 
 all service in requital for Ivar Bodde. I take you at 
 your word, and look to you to see that this misdeed be 
 avenged. 
 
 Eael Skule. 
 
 Of a truth, bad angels are at work between us to-day. 
 On any other of my men, I would have suffered you to 
 avenge the murder — — 
 
 HAkon. 
 [Expectantly.] Well ? 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 But not on Andres Skialdarband. 
 
 HAkon. 
 [Flashing out.] Will you shield the murderer? 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 This murderer I must shield. 
 
 HAkon^ . 
 And the reason ? 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 227 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 That none but God in heaven may know. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [Softly, to Dagfinn.] I know it. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 And I suspect it. 
 
 ^- 
 
 BisHop Nicholas. 
 Say nought, good Dagfinn! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Earl, I will believe as long as I may, that you mean 
 not in good sooth what you have said to me 
 
 * 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 Were it my own father Andres Skialdarband had 
 slain, he should still go free. Ask me no more. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Good. Then we ourselves must do justice in the 
 matter! 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [With an expression of alarmi] There will be blood- 
 shed on both sides, my lord King! 
 
 HAkon. 
 So be it; none the less shall the deed be avenged. 
 
228 THE PRETENDERS [act ii 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 It shall not be! — It cannot be! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Nay, there the Earl is right. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Say you so, my honoured lord ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Andres Skialdarband has taken the Cross. 
 
 HAkon and Earl Skule. 
 Taken the Cross! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 And has already sailed from the land. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 'Tis well for all of us! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 The day wanes; the bridal-feast must now be at an 
 end. I thank you. Sir Earl, for all the honour that has 
 been shown me in these days. — You are bound for 
 Nidaros, as I think? 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 That is my intent. 
 
ACTii] THE PRETENDERS 229 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 And I for Viken. — If you, Margrete, choose rather to 
 abide in Bergen, then do so. 
 
 Marghete. 
 Whither you go, I go, until you forbid. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Good; then come with me. 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 Now is our kindred spread far abroad. [Kneels to 
 HAkon.] Grant me a grace, my lord King. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Rise, Lady Sigrid; whatever you crave shall be granted. 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 I cannot go with the Earl to Nidaros. The nunnery 
 at Rein will soon be consecrated; write to the Arch- 
 bishop — ^take order that I be made Abbess. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 You, my sister? 
 
 HAkon. 
 You will enter a nunnery! 
 
 Sigrid. 
 
 [Rising.] Since my wedding-night of blood, when the 
 Baglers came and hewed down my bridegroom, and 
 
230 THE PRETENDERS [actit 
 
 many hundreds with him, and fired Nidaros town at all its 
 corners — since then, it has been as though the blood and 
 flames had dulled and deadened my sight for the world 
 around me. But power was given me to catch glimpses 
 of that which other eyes see not — and one thing I see 
 now : a time of great dread hanging over this land ! 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 [Vehemently.] She is sick! Heed her not! 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 A plenteous harvest is ripening for him that reaps in 
 the darkness. Every woman in Norway will have but 
 one task now — to kneel in church and cloister, and pray 
 both day and night. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Shaken.] Is it prophecy or soul-sickness that speaks 
 thus? 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 Farewell, my brother — we shall meet once more. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 [Involuntarily.] When ? 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 [Softly.] When you take the crown; in the hour of 
 danger, — when you are fain of me in your direst need. 
 
 [Goes out to the right, with Margrete, Lady Ragn- 
 HiLD, and the women. 
 
ACT II] THE PRETENDERS 231 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [After a short pause, draws his sword, and says with 
 quiet determination:] All the Earl's men shall take the 
 oalh of fealty. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Vehemently.] Is this your settled purpose ? [Almost 
 imploringly.] King Hakon, do not so! 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 No Earl's man shall leave Bergen ere he has sworn 
 fealty to the King. 
 
 [Goes out with his Guard. All except the Eakl and 
 the Bishop follow him. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 He has dealt hardly with you to-day! 
 
 [Earl Skule is silent, and looks out after the King, 
 as though struck dumb. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [More loudly.] And mayhap not king-born after all. 
 
 Earl Skule. 
 
 [Turns suddenly, in strong eiipcitement, and seizes the 
 Bishop by the arm.] Trond the Priest's confession — 
 where is it? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 He sent it to me from England ere he died ; I know not 
 by whom — and it never reached me. 
 
232 THE PRETENDERS [actii 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 But it must be found ! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 I doubt not but it may. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 And if you find it, you will give it into my hands ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 That I promise. 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 You swear it by your soul's salvation ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 I swear it by my soul's salvation! 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 Good; till that time I will work against Hakon, wher- 
 ever it can be done secretly and unnoted. He must be 
 hindered from growing mightier than I, ere the struggle 
 begins. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 But should it prove that he is in truth king-born — what 
 then? 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 Then I must try to pray — to pray for humbleness, that 
 I may serve him with all my might, as a faithful chieftain. 
 
ACTii] THE PRETENDERS 233 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 And if he be not the rightful king ? 
 
 Eabl Sktjle. 
 
 Then shall he give place to me! The kingly title and 
 the kingly throne, host and guard, fleet and tribute, towns 
 and strongholds, all shall be mine! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 He will betake him to Viken 
 
 Eabl Skulb. 
 I will drive him out of Viken! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 He will establish himself in Nidaros. 
 
 Eabl Skule 
 I will storm Nidaros! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 He will shut himself up in Olaf's holy church 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 I will force the sanctuary 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 He will fly to the high altar, and cling to Olaf's 
 shrine 
 
234 THE PRETENDERS [actii 
 
 Eakl Skttle. 
 
 I will drag him down from the altar, though I drag the 
 shrine along with him 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 But the crown will still be on his head, Earl Skule! 
 
 Eakl Skule. 
 I will strike off the crown with my sword! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 But if it sits too tight- ? 
 
 Eabl Skule. 
 
 Then, in God's name or Satan's — I will strike off 
 the head along with it! [Goes out to the right. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Looks out after him, nods slowly, and saysi] Ay — ay 
 — 'tis in this mood I like the Earl! 
 
ACT THIRD 
 
 A room in the Bishop's Palace at Oslo} On the right 
 is the entrance door. In the back, a small door, 
 standing open, leads into the Chapel, which is 
 lighted up. A curtained door in the left wall leads 
 into the Bishop's sleeping-room. In front, on the 
 same side, stands a cushioned couch. Opposite, 
 on the rigid, is a writing-table, with letters, docu- 
 ments, and a lighted lam,p. 
 
 At first the room is empty; behind the curtain on the 
 left, the singing of monks is heard. Presently 
 Paul Flida, in travelling dress, enters from the 
 right, stops by the door, waits, looks around,- and 
 then knocks three times with his staff upon the 
 floor. 
 
 SlEA ViLIAM. 
 
 [Comes out from the left, and exclaims in a hushed 
 voice.] Paul Flida! God be praised; — then the Earl 
 is not far off. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 The ships are already at Hoved-isle; I came on ahead. 
 And how goes it with the Bishop ? 
 
 SiBA ViLIAM. 
 
 He is even now receiving the Extreme Unction. 
 
 ' An ancient city close to the present Christiania. 
 235 
 
236 THE PRETENDERS [actiii 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Then there is great danger. 
 
 SiBA ViLIAM. 
 
 Master Sigard of Brabant has said that he cannot 
 outlive the night. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Then meseems he has summoned us too late. 
 
 SiKA ViLIAM. 
 
 Nay, nay, — he has his full senses and some strength to 
 boot; every moment he asks if the Earl comes not soon. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 You still call him Earl; know you not that the 
 King has granted him the title of Duke ? 
 
 SiBA ViLIAM. 
 
 Ay, ay, we know it; 'tis but old custom. Hist! 
 [He and Paul Flida cross themselves and bow their 
 heads. From the Bishop's door issue two acolytes 
 with candles, then two more with censers; then 
 priests bearing chalice, paten, and crucijix, and 
 a church banner; behind them a file of priests and 
 monks; acolytes with candles and censers close the 
 procession, which passes slowly into the chapel. 
 The door is shut behind them. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 So now the old lord has made up his account with 
 the world. 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 237 
 
 SiHA ViLIAM. 
 
 I can tell him that Duke Skule comes so soon as may 
 be? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 He comes straight from the wharf up here to the 
 
 Palace. Farewell ! [Goes. 
 
 [Several priests, among them Peter, with some 
 
 of the Bishop's servants, come out from the left 
 
 with rugs, cushions, and a large brazier. 
 
 SiBA ViLIAM. 
 
 Why do you this ? 
 
 A Priest. 
 
 [Arranging the couch.] The Bishop wills to lie out 
 here. 
 
 SiBA ViLIAM. 
 
 But is it prudent? 
 
 The Priest. 
 
 Master Sigard thinks we may humour him. Here he is. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas enters, supported by Master Sigard 
 and a priest. He is in his canonicals, but without 
 crozier and mitre. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Light more candles. [He is led to a seat upon the 
 couch, near the brazier, and is covered with rugs.\ Viliam ! 
 Now have I been granted forgiveness for all my sins! 
 They took them all away with them; — meseems I am 
 so light now. 
 
238 THE PRETENDERS [actiii 
 
 SiKA ViLIAM. 
 
 The Duke sen^ls you greeting, my lord; he hfis already 
 passed Hoved-isle! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 'Tis well, very well. Belike the King, too, will soon 
 be here. I have been a sinful hound in my day,_Vil- 
 iam; I have grievously trespassed against the King. 
 The priests in there averred that all my sins should be 
 forgiven me; — well well, it may be so; but 'tis easy for 
 them to promise; 'tis not against them that I have 
 trespassed. No no; it is safest to have it from the 
 King's own mouth. [Exclaims impatiently.] Light, I 
 say! 'tis so dark in here. 
 
 SiBA ViLIAM. 
 
 The candles are lighted 
 
 Master Sigakd. 
 
 [Stops him by a sign, and approaches the Bishop.] 
 How goes it with you, my lord ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 So-so — so-so; my hands and feet are cold. 
 
 Master Sigaru. 
 
 [Half aloud, as he moves the brazier nearer.] Ha — 
 'tis the beginning of the end. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Apprehensively, to Viliam.] I have commanded that 
 eight monks shall chant and pray for me in the chapel 
 
ACT HI] THE PRETENDERS 239 
 
 to-night. Have an eye to them; there are idle fellows 
 among them. 
 
 [SiRA ViLiAM points silently towards the chapelt 
 
 whence singing is heard, which continues during 
 
 what follows. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 So much still undone, and to go and leave it all! 
 So much undone, Viliam! 
 
 SiBA Viliam. 
 My lord, think of heavenly things! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 I have time before me; — till well on in the morning. 
 Master Sigard thinks — 
 
 SiRA Viliam. 
 My lord, my lord! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Give me mitre and crozier! — 'Tis very well for you 
 
 to say that I should think [A priest brings them.] 
 
 So, set the cap there, 'tis too heavy for me; give me the 
 crozier in my hand; there, now am I in my armour. 
 
 A bishop ! The Evil One dare not grapple with me 
 
 now! 
 
 SiRA Viliam. 
 Desire you aught beside ? 
 
240 THE PRETENDERS [act m 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 No. Stay — tell me: — Peter, Andres Skialdarband's 
 son, — all speak well of him— — 
 
 SiRA ViLIAM. 
 
 In truth, his is a blameless soul. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Peter, you shall watch beside me until the King or 
 the Duke shall come. Leave us, meanwhile, ye others, , 
 but be at hand. [All except Peter go out on the right. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [After a short paiise.^ Peter! 
 
 Peter. 
 [Approaches.] My lord ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Hast ever seen old men die ? 
 
 Peter. 
 
 No. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 They are all afeard; that I dare swear. There on 
 the table lies a large letter with seals to it; give it to me. 
 [Peter brings the letter.] 'Tis to your mother. 
 
 Peter. 
 To my mother? 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 241 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 You must get you northward with it to Halogaland. 
 I have written to her touching a great and weighty 
 matter; tidings have come from your father. 
 
 Peteh. 
 
 He is fighting as a soldier of God in the Holy Land. 
 Should he fall there, he falls on hallowed ground; for 
 there every foot's-breadth of earth is sacred. I com- 
 mend him to God in all my prayers. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Is Andres Skialdarband dear to you? 
 
 Petek. 
 
 He is an honourable man; but there lives another man 
 whose greatness my mother, as it were, fostered and 
 nourished me withal. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [Hurriedly and eagerly.] Is that Duke Skule? 
 
 Peteh. 
 
 Ay, the Duke — Skule Bardsson. My mother knew him 
 in younger days. The • Duke must sure be the great- 
 est man in the land! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 There is the letter; get you northward with it forth- 
 with! — Are they not singing in there? 
 
242 THE PRETENDERS [actiii 
 
 Peteh. 
 They are, my lord! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Eight lusty fellows with throats like trumpets, they 
 must surely help somewhat, methinks. 
 
 Peteb. 
 My lord, my lord! Why not pray yourself? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 I have too much still undone, Peter. Life is all too 
 short ; — besides, the King will surely forgive me when he 
 comes • [Gives a start in pain. 
 
 Peteh. 
 You are suffering? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 I suffer not; but there is a ringing in mine ears, a 
 twinkling and flickering before mine eyes 
 
 Peter. 
 
 'Tis the heavenly bells ringing you home, and the 
 twinkling of the altar-lights God's angels have lit for 
 you. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Ay, sure 'tis so; — there is no danger if only they lag 
 not with their prayers in there — — Farewell; set forth 
 at once with the letter. 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 243 
 
 Pbteb. 
 Shall I not first ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Nay, go; I fear not to be alone. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Well met again, then, what time the heavenly bells 
 shall sound' for me too. [Goes out on the right. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 The heavenly bells, — ay, 'tis easy talking when you 
 still have two stout legs to stand upon. — So much undone ! 
 But much will live after me', notwithstanding. I prom- 
 ised the Duke by my soul's salvation to give him Trond 
 the Priest's confession if it came into rny hand; — 'tis 
 well I have not got it. Had Jie certainty, he would 
 conquer or fall; and then one of the twain would be 
 the mightiest man that ever lived in Norway. No no, — 
 what / could not reach none other shall reach. Un- 
 certainty serves best; so long as the Duke is burdened 
 with that, they two will waste each other's strength, 
 wheresoever they may; towns will be burnt, dales 
 will be harried, — neither will gain by the other's loss — 
 [Terrified.] Mercy, pity! It is I who bear the guilt — I, 
 who set it all agoing! [Calming himself.] Well, well, 
 well! but now the King is coming — 'tis he that suifers 
 most — ^he will forgive me — prayers and masses shall 
 be said; there is no danger; — I_ain a bishop^ j,nd_Iil§ie 
 ngyer slain an y man w ith min e own hand . — 'Tis well 
 that Trond the Priest's confession came not; the saints 
 are with me, they will not tempt me to break my promise. 
 — Who knocks at the door? It must be the Duke! 
 
244 THE PRETENDERS [act in 
 
 [Rubs his hands with glee.] He will implore me for 
 proofs as to the kinship, — and I have no proofs to give 
 him! 
 
 Inga of Varteig enters; she is dressed in 
 black, with a cloak and hood. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [StaHs.] Who is that ? 
 
 Inga. 
 
 A woman from Varteig in Borgasyssel, my honoured 
 lord. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 The King's mother! 
 
 Inga. 
 So was I called once. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Go, go! 'Twas not I counselled Hakon to send you 
 away. 
 
 Inga. 
 
 What the King does is well done; 'tis not therefor I 
 come. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Wherefore then ? 
 
 Inga. 
 Gunnulf, my brother, is come home from England 
 
ACTiii] THE PRETENDERS 245 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 From England^ ! 
 
 Inga. 
 
 He has been away these many years, as , you know, 
 and has roamed far and wide; now has he brought 
 home a letter 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [Breathlessly.] A letter ? 
 
 Inga. 
 
 From Trond the Priest. 'Tis for you, my lord. 
 
 [Hands it to him. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Ah, truly; — and you bring it ? 
 
 Inga. 
 
 It was Trend's wish. I owe him great thanks since 
 the time he fostered Hakon. It was told me that you 
 were sick; therefore I set forth at once; I have come 
 hither on foot 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 There was no such haste, Inga! 
 
 Dagfinn the Peasant enters from the right. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 ■ God's peace, my honoured lord! 
 
- 246 THE PRETENDERS [actiii 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Comes the King ? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 He is now riding down the Ryen hills, with the Queen 
 and the King-child and a great following. 
 
 Inga. 
 
 [Rushes up to Dagfinn.] The King, — ^the King! 
 Comes h e hither ? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Inga! You here, much-suffering woman! 
 
 Inga. 
 She is not much-suffering who has so great a son. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Now will his hard heart be melted. 
 
 Inga. 
 
 Not a word to the King of me. Yet, oh, I must 
 see him I — Tell me, — comes he hither ? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Ay, presently. 
 
 Inga. 
 
 And it is dark evening. The King will be lighted on 
 his way with torches ? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Yes. 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 247 
 
 Inga. 
 
 Then will I hide me in a gateway as he goes by; — 
 and then home to Varteig. But first will I into Hall- 
 vard's church; the lights are burning there to-night; 
 there will I call down blessings on the King, on my fair 
 son. [Goes out to the right. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 I have fulfilled mine errand ; I go to meet the King. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Bear him most loving greeting, good Dagfinn! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [As he goes out to the right.] I would not be Bishop 
 Nicholas to-morrow. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. / 
 
 Trond the Priest's confession ! So it has come 
 
 after all — here I hold it in my hand. [Muses with a fixed 
 gaze.] A man should never promise aught by his soul's 
 salvation, when he is as old as I. Had I years before 
 me, I could always wriggle free from such a promise; 
 but this evening, this last evening — no, that were im- 
 prudent. — But can I keep it? Is it not to endanger 
 all that I have worked for, my whole life through.? — 
 [Whispering.] Oh, could I but cheat the Evil One, 
 only this one more time ! [Listens i] What was that? 
 [Calls!] Viliam, Viliam! 
 
 SiKA Viliam enters from the right. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 What is it that whistles and howls so grimly ? 
 
248 THE PRETENDERS [actiii 
 
 SiHA ViLIAM. 
 
 'Tis the storm; it grows fiercer. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 The storm grows fiercer ! Ay truly, I will keep my 
 
 promise! The storm, say you ? Are they singing 
 
 in there? 
 
 SiBA ViLIAM. 
 
 Yes, my lord. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Bid them bestir themselves, and chiefly brother 
 Aslak; he always makes such scant prayers; he shirks 
 whenever he can; he skips, the hound! [Strikes the 
 floor with his crazier.] Go in and say to him 'tis the 
 last night I have left; he shall bestir himself, else will I 
 haunt him from the dead! 
 
 SiBA ViLIAM. 
 
 My lord, shall I not fetch Master Sigard ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Go in, I say! [Viuam goes into the chapel.] It must 
 doubtless be heaven's will that I should reconcile the 
 King and the Duke, since it sends me Trend's letter 
 now. This is a hard thing, Nicholas; to tear down at a 
 single wrench what you have spent your life in building 
 up. But there is no other way; I must e'en do the 
 will of heaven this time. — If I could only read what is 
 written in the letter! But I cannot see a word! Mists 
 drive before my eyes; they sparkle and flicker; and I 
 dare let none other read it for me! To make such a 
 promise ! Is human cunning, then, so poor a thing 
 
ACTiii] THE PRETENDERS 249 
 
 that it cannot govern the outcome of its contrivances 
 in the second and third degree ? I spoke so long and so 
 earnestly to Vegard Vseradal about making the King 
 send Inga from him, that at- length it came to p^ss. 
 That was wise in the first degree; but had I not coun- 
 selled thus, then Inga had not now been at Varteig.the 
 letter had not come into my hands in time, and I had 
 not had any promise to keep — therefore 'twas unwise in 
 
 the second degree. Had I yet time before me ! but 
 
 only the space of one night, and scarce even that. I 
 must, I will live longer! [Knocks with his crazier; a 
 priest enters from the right.] Bid Master Sigard come ! 
 [The priest goes; the Bishop crushes the letter in his 
 hands.] Here, under this thin seal, lies Norway's saga 
 for a hundred years ! It lies and dreams, like the birdling 
 in the egg! O h, that I had more souls than o n e— or 
 else_n^n e ! [Presses the letter wildly to his breast.] Oh, 
 were not the end so close upon me, — and judgment and 
 doom — I would hatch you out into a hawk that should 
 cast the dreadful shadow of his wings over all the land, 
 and strike his sharp talons into every heart! [With a 
 sudden shudder.] But the last hour is at hand ! [Shriek- 
 ing.] No, no! You shall become a swan, a white swan! 
 [Throws the letter far from him, on to the Hoor, and calls:] 
 Master Sigard, Master Sigard ! 
 
 Master Sigard. 
 [From the right.] How goes it, honoured lord! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Master Sigard — sell me three days' life! 
 
 Master Sigard. 
 I have told you 
 
250 THE PRETENDERS [act in 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Yes, yes; but that was in jest; 'twas a little revenge 
 on me. I have been a tedious master to you; therefore 
 you thought to scare me. Fie, that was evil, — 'nay, 
 nay — 'twas no more than I deserved! But, now bfe 
 good and kind! I will pay you well; — ^three days' life. 
 Master Sigard, only three days' life! 
 
 Master Sigakd. 
 
 Though I myself were to die in the same hour as you, 
 yet could I not add three days to your span. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 One day, then, only one day ! Let it be light, 
 let the sun shine when my soul sets forth! Listen, 
 Sigard! [Beckons him, over, and drags him down upon 
 the couch.l I have given well-nigh all my gold and 
 silver to the Church, to have high masses sung for me. 
 I will take it back again; you shall have it all! How 
 now, Sigard, shall we two fool them in there ? He-he-he ! 
 You will be rich, Sigard, and can depart the country; 
 I shall have time to cast about me a little, and make 
 shift with fewer prayers. Come, Sigard, shall we— — ! 
 [SiGAKD/eefe his pulse; the Bishop exclaims anxiously f^ 
 How now, why answer you not ? 
 
 Master Sigard. 
 
 {Rising. "l I have no time, my lord. I must prepare 
 you a draught that may ease you somewhat at the last. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Nay, wait with that! Wait, — and answer me! 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 251 
 
 Master Sigard. 
 
 I have no time; the draught must be ready within an 
 hour. [Goes out to the right. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Within an hour! [Knocks wildly.] Viliam! Viliam! 
 [Sir A ViLiAM comes out from the chapel. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 , Call more to help in there! The eight are not enough! 
 
 SiBA Viliam. 
 My lord— ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 More to help, I say! Brother Kolbein has lain sick 
 these five weeks, — he cannot ha\e sinned much in that 
 time 
 
 SiRA Viliam. 
 
 He was at shrift yesterday. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Eagerly.] Ay, he must be good; call him! [Vil- 
 iam gfoes into </ie cAapeZ agraiw.] Within aji hour! [Dries 
 the sweat off his brow.] Pah — how hot it is here! — The 
 miserable hound — what boots all his learning, when he 
 ^ cannot add an hour to my life? There sits he in his 
 closet day by day, piecing together his cunning wheels 
 and weights and levers; he thinks to fashion a machine 
 that shall go and go and never stop — -perpetuum mobile 
 he calls it. Why not rather turn his art and his skill 
 
252 THE PRETENDERS [actiii 
 
 to making man such a perpetuum mobile f [Stops and 
 thinks; his eyes light up.] Perpetuum mobile, — I am 
 not strong in Latin — but it means somewhat that has 
 power to work eternally, through all the ages. If I 
 
 myself, now, could but ? That were a deed to 
 
 end my life withal! That were to do my greatest deed 
 in my latest hour!' To set wheel and weight and lever 
 at work in the King's soul and the Duke's; to set them 
 a-going so that no power on earth can stop them; if 
 I can but do that, then shall I live indeed, live in my 
 work — and, when I think of it, mayhap 'tis that which 
 is called immortality. — Comfortable, soothing thoughts, 
 how ye do the old man good ! [Draws a deep breath, and 
 stretches himself comfortably upon the couch.] Diabolus 
 has pressed me hard to-night. That comes of lying 
 idle; otium est pulms — pulveris — ^pooh, no matter for 
 
 the Latin Diabolus shall no longer have power 
 
 over me; I will be_ busy to the last; I will- ; how they 
 
 bellow in yonder^ — [Knocks; Viliam comes out.] 
 Tell them to hold their peace; they disturb me. The 
 King and the Duke will soon be here; I have weighty 
 matters to ponder. 
 
 SiKA Viliam. 
 
 My lord, shall I then ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Bid them hold awhile, that I may think in peace. 
 Look you, take up yonder letter that lies upon the 
 floor. — Good. Reach me the papers here 
 
 SiHA Viliam. 
 [Goes to the writing-table.] Which, my lord ? 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 253 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 It matters not ; the sealed ones; those that lie 
 
 uppermost — So; go now in and bid them be silent. 
 [ViLiAM goes.] To die, and yet rule in Norway! To 
 die, and yet so contrive things that no man may come 
 to raise his head above the rest. A thousand ways may 
 lead towards that goal; yet can there be but one that 
 will reach it; — and now to find that one — to find it 
 
 and follow it Ha! The way lies so close, so close 
 
 at hand! Ay, so it must be. I will keep my prom- 
 ise; the Duke shall have the letter in his hands; — but 
 the King — he shall have the thorn of doubt in his heart. 
 Hakon is upright, as they call it; many things will 
 go to wreck in his soul along with the faith in him-' 
 self and in his right. Both of them shall doubt and 
 believe by turns, still swaying to and fro, and finding 
 no firm ground beneath their feet — perpetuum mobile! — 
 But will Hakon believe what I say? Ay, that will he; 
 am I not a dying man ? — And to prepare the way I will 
 feed him up with truths. — My strength fails, but fresh 
 life fills my soul; — I no longer lie on a sick-bed, I sit 
 in my workroom; I will work the last night thrcfugh, 
 work — till the light goes out 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Enters from the right and advances towards the Bishop.] 
 Peace and greeting, my honoured lord! I hear it goes 
 "11 with you. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 I am a corpse in the bud, good Duke; this night shall 
 I break into bloom; to-morrow you may scent my per- 
 fume. 
 
254 THE PRETENDERS [act iii 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 Already to-night, say you ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Mauter Sigard says within an hour. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 And Trond the Priest's letter ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Think you still upon that ? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 'Tis never out of my thoughts. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 The King has made you Duke; before you, no man 
 in Norway has borne that title. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 'Tis not enough. If Hakon be not the rightful king, 
 then must I have all! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Ha, 'tis cold in here; the blood runs icy through my 
 limbs. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Trond the Priest's letter, my lord! For Almighty 
 God's sake, — have you it ? 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 255 
 
 Bishop . Nicholas. 
 At least, I know where it may be found. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 Tell me then, tell me! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Wait— 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Nay, nay — lose not your time; I see it draws to an 
 end; — and 'tis sad the King comes hither. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Ay, the King comes; thereby you may best see that 
 I am mindful of your cause, even now. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 What is your purpose ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Mind you, at the King's bridal— you said that Hakon's 
 strength lay in his steadfast faith in himself? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 Well ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 If I confess, and raise a doubt in his mind, then his 
 faith will fall, and his strength with it. 
 
256 THE PRETENDERS [act in 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 My lord, this is sinful, sinful, if he be the rightful 
 king. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 'Twill be in your power to restore his faith. Ere I 
 depart hence, I will tell you where Trond the Priest's 
 letter may be found. 
 
 SlEA ViLIAM. 
 
 [From the rigfd.] The King is now coming up the 
 street, with torch-bearers and attendants. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 He shall be welcome. [Viliam goes.] Duke, I beg 
 of you one last service: do you carry on my feuds 
 againgt all mine enemies. [Takes out a letter.] Here I 
 have written them down. Those whose names stand 
 first I would fain have hanged, if it could be so ordered. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Think not upon vengeance now; you have but little 
 time left 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Not on vengeance, but on punishment. Promise me 
 to wield the sword of punishment over all mine enemies 
 when I am gone. They are your foemen no less than 
 mine; when you are King you must chastise them; do 
 you promise me that? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 I promise and swear it; but Trend's letter ! 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 257 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 You shall learn where it is; — but see — the King 
 comes; hide the list of our foemen! 
 
 [The Duke hides the paper; at the same moment 
 HAkon enters from the right. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas.- 
 Well met at the grave-feast, my lord King. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 You have ever withstood me stubbornly; but that 
 shall be forgiven and forgotten now; death wipes out 
 even the heaviest reckoning. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 That lightened my soul! Oh how marvellous is the 
 King's clemency! My lord, what you have done for 
 an old sinner this night shall be tenfold 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 No more of that; but I must tell you that I greatly 
 marvel you should summon me hither to obtain my for- 
 giveness, and yet prepare for me such a meeting as this. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Meeting, my lord ? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 'Tis of me the King speaks. Will you, my lord 
 Bishop, assure King Hakon, by my faith and honour. 
 
258 THE PRETENDERS [act m 
 
 that I knew nought of his coming, ere I landed at Oslo 
 wharf? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Alas, alas! The blame is all mine! I have been 
 sickly and bedridden all the last year; I have learnt 
 little or nought of the affairs of the kingdom; I thought 
 all was now well between the princely kinsmen ! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 I have marked that the friendship between the Duke 
 and myself thrives best when we hold aloof from one 
 another; therefore farewell. Bishop Nicholas, and God 
 be with you where you are now to go. 
 
 [Goes towards the door. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 [Softly and uneasily.] Bishop, Bishop, he is going! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [Suddenly and with mid energy.] Stay, King Hakon! 
 
 HAkon. 
 [Stops.] What now ? 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 You shall not leave this room until old Bishop Nicholas 
 has spoken his last word! 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [Instinctively lays his hand upon his sword.] May- 
 hap you have come well attended to Viken, Duke. 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 259 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 I have no part in this. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 'Tis by force of words that I will hold you. Where 
 there is a burial in the house, the dead man ever rules 
 the roost; he can do and let alone as he will — so far as 
 his power may reach. Therefore will I now speak my 
 own funeral-speech; in days gone by, I was ever sore 
 afraid lest King Sverre should come to speak it 
 
 HAkon. 
 Talk not so wildly, my lord! 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 You shorten the precious hour still left to you! 
 
 HAkon. 
 Your eyes are already dim! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Ay, my sight is dim; I scarce can see you where you 
 stand; but before my inward eye, my life is moving 
 in a blaze of light. There I see sights — ' — ; hear and 
 learn, O King! — My race was the mightiest in the land; 
 many great chieftains had sprung from it; / longed to l^ 
 the greatest of them all. I was yet but a boy when I 
 began to thirst after great deeds; meseemed I could by 
 no means wait till I were grown. Kings arose who 
 had less right than I, — Magnus Erlingsson, Sverre the 
 
 Priest ; I also would be king; but I must needs be 
 
 a chieftain first. Then came the battle at Ilevoldene; 
 
260 THE PRETENDERS [act m 
 
 'twas the first time I went out to war. The sun went 
 up, and glittering lightnings flashed from a thousand 
 burnished blades. Magnus and all his men advanced 
 as to a game; I alone felt a tightness at my heart. 
 Fiercely our host swept forward ; but I could not follow — 
 I was afraid ! All Magnus's other chieftains fought man- 
 fully, and many fell in the fight; but I fled up over the 
 mountain, and ran and ran, and stayed not until I came 
 down to the fiord again, far away. Many a man had 
 to wash his bloody clothes in Trondheim-fiord that 
 night; — I had to wash mine too, but not from blood. 
 Ay, King, I was afraid; — ^born to be a chieftain — and 
 afraid! It fell upon me as a thunderbolt; from that 
 hour I hated all men. I prayed secretly in the churches, 
 I wept and knelt before the altars, I gave rich gifts, 
 made sacred promises; I tried and tried in battle after 
 battle, at Saltosund, at Jonsvoldene that summer the 
 Baglers lay in Bergen, — but ever in vain. Sverre it was 
 who first noted it; he proclaimed it loudly and with 
 mockery, and from that day forth, not a man in the 
 host but laughed when Nicholas Arnesson was seen in 
 war- weed. A coward, a coward — and yet was I filled 
 with longing to be a chief, to be a king; nay, I felt I 
 was born to be King. I could have furthered God's 
 kingdom upon earth; but 'twas the saints themselves 
 that barred the way for me. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Accuse not Heaven, Bishop Nicholas! You have 
 hated much. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Ay, I have hated much; hated every head in this 
 land that raised itself above the crowd. But I hated 
 
ACTiii] THE PRETENDERS 261 
 
 because I could not love. Fair women, — oh, I could 
 devour them even now with glistening eyes! I have 
 lived eighty years, and yet do I yearn to kill men and 
 clasp women; — but my lot in love was as my lot in war: 
 nought but an itching will, my strength sapped from my 
 birth; dowered with seething desire — and yet a \<^eak- 
 ling! So I became a priest: king or priest must that 
 man be who would have all might in his hands. [Laughs.] 
 I a priest! I a churchman! Yes, for one clerkly 
 oiEce Heaven had notably fitted me — ^for taking the 
 high notes — ^for singing with a woman's voice at the 
 great church-festivals. And yet they up yonder claim 
 of me-r— the ' half-man — what they have a right to claim 
 only of those whom they have in all things fitted for 
 their life-work! There have been times when I fancied 
 such a claim might be just; I have lain here on my 
 sick-bed crushed by the dread of doom and punishment. 
 Now it is over; my soul has fresh marrow in its bones; 
 / have not sinned; it is I that have suffered wrong; I 
 am the accuser! 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Softly.] My lord — the letter! You have little time 
 left. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Think of your soul, and humble you! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 A man's life-work is his soul, and my life-work still 
 shall live upon the earth. But you. King Hakon, you 
 should beware; for as Heaven has stood against m e , 
 and reaped harm for its reward, So are you standing 
 against the man who holds the country's welfare in 
 his hand 
 
262 THE PRETENDERS [act hi 
 
 HAkon. 
 Ha — Duke, Duke ! Now I see the bent of this meeting. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Vehetnently, to the Bishop.] Not a word more of 
 this! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [To HAkon.] He will stand against you so long as 
 his head sits fast on his shoulders. Share with him! I 
 will have no peace in my coffin, I will rise again, if you 
 two share not the kingdom! Neither of you shall add 
 the other's height to his own stature. If that befell, 
 there would be a giant in the land, and here shall no giant 
 be; for I was never a giant! 
 
 [Sinks back exhausted on the couch. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Falls on his knees beside the couch and cries to HAkon.] 
 Summon help! For God's pity's sake; the Bishop must 
 not die yet! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 How it waxes dusk before my eyes! — King, for the 
 last time — will you share with the Duke ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 Not a shred will I let slip of that which God gave me. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Well and good. [Softly.] Your faith, at least, you 
 shall let slip. [Calls.'] Viliam! 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 263 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 [Softly.] The letter! The letter! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Not listening to him.] Viliam! [Viliam enters; the 
 Bishop draws him close down to him and whispers.] 
 When I received the Extreme Unction, all my sins were 
 forgiven me? 
 
 SiRA Viliam. 
 
 All your sins from your birth, till the moment you 
 received the Unction. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 No longer ? Not until the very end ? 
 
 SiRA Viliam. 
 You will not sin to-night, my lord' 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Who can tell .'' Take the golden goblet Bishop 
 
 Absalon left me — give it to the Church — and say seven 
 high masses more. 
 
 SiRA Viliam. 
 God will be gracious to you, my lord! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Seven more masses, I say — for sins I may commit 
 to-night! Go, go! [Viliam goes; the Bishop turns to 
 Skule.] Duke, if you should come to read Trond the 
 Priest's letter, and it should mayhap prove that Hakon 
 is the rightful king — what would you do then? 
 
264 THE PRETENDERS [act iii 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 In God's name— king he should remain. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Bethink you; much is at stake. Search every fold 
 of your heart; answer as though you stood before your 
 Judge! What will you do, if he be the rightful king? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 Bow my head and serve him. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Mumbles.] So, so: then bide the issue. [To Skule.] 
 Duke, I am weak and weary; a mild and charitable 
 mood comes over me 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 It is death! Trond the Priest's letter! -Where is it.-" 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 First another matter; — I gave you the list of my 
 enemies 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Impatiently.] Yes, yes; I will take full revenge upon 
 them 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 No, my soul is filled with mildness; I will forgive, as 
 the Scripture commands. As you would forgo might, I 
 will forgo revenge. Burn the list! 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 265 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 Ay, ay; as you will.. 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 Here, in the brazier; so that I may see it 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Throws the paper into the fire.] There, then; see, it 
 burns. And now, speak, speak. You risk thousands 
 of lives if you speak not now! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [With sparkling eyes.] Thousands of lives. [Shrieks.] 
 Light! Air! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Rushes to the door and me».] Help! The Bishop is 
 dying! 
 
 SiRA ViLiAM and several of the Bishop's men enter. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Shakes the Bishop's arm.] You risk Norway's hap- 
 piness through hundreds of years, mayhap its greatness 
 to all eternity! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 To all eternity! [Triumphantly.] Perpetuum mobile! 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 By our soul's salvation, — where is Trond the Priest's 
 letter ? 
 
266 THE PRETENDERS [act iii 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 [CaH*.] Seven more masses, Viliam! 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 [Beside himself.] The letter! The letter! 
 
 Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 [Smiling in his death-agony.] 'Twas it you burned, 
 good Duke ! [Falls back on the couch and dies. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [With an involuntary cry, starts backwards and covers 
 his face with his hands.] Almighty God! 
 
 The Monks. 
 
 [Rushing in flight from the chapel.] Save you, all 
 who can! 
 
 Some Voices. ^ 
 
 The powers of evil have broken loose! 
 
 Other Voices. 
 
 There rang a loud laugh from the corner! — A voice 
 cried: " We have him I "^ — — All the lights went out! 
 
 HAkon. 
 Bishop Nicholas is even now dead. 
 
 The Monks. 
 , [Fleeing to the right.] Pater noster — Pater noster. 
 
ACTin] THE PRETENDERS 267 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Approache? Skule, and says in a low voice.] Duke, 
 I will not question what secret counsel you were hatching 
 with the Bishop ere he died; — but from to-morrow must 
 you give up your powers and dignities into my hands; 
 I see clearly now that we two cannot go forward together. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 [Looks at him absently.] Go forward together ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 To-morrow I hold an Assembly in the Palace; then 
 must all things be made clear between us. 
 
 \Goes out to the right. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 The Bishop dead and the letter burnt! A life full 
 of doubt and strife and dread ! Oh, could I but pray ! — 
 No — I must act; this evening must the stride be taken, 
 once for all! [To Viliam.] Whither went the King ? 
 
 SiRA Viliam. 
 
 [Terrified.] Christ save me, — what would you with 
 him ? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Think you I would slay him to-night ? 
 
 [Goes out to the right. 
 
 SiRA Viliam. 
 
 [Looks after him, shaking his head, while the house- 
 folk hear the body out to the left.] Seven more masses,' 
 
268 THE PRETENDERS [act iii 
 
 the Bishop said; I think 'twere safest we should say 
 fourteen. [Follows the others. 
 
 A room in the Palace. In the back is the entrance door; 
 in each of the side walls a smaller door; in front, on 
 the right, a window. Hung from the roof, a lamp is 
 burning. Close to the door on the left stands a bench, 
 and further back a cradle, in which the King-child 
 is sleeping; Margrete is kneeling beside the child. 
 
 Margrete. 
 [Rocks the cradle and sings.] 
 
 Now roof and rafters blend with 
 The starry vault on high; 
 Now flieth little Hakon 
 On dream-wings through the sky. 
 
 There mounts a mighty stairway 
 From earth to God's own land; 
 There Hakon with the angels 
 Goes climbing, hand in hand. 
 
 God's angel-babes are watching 
 Thy cot, the still night through; 
 God bless thee, little Hakon, 
 Thy mother watcheth too. 
 
 A short pause. Duke Settle enters from the back. 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 [Starts up with a cry of joy and rushes to meet him.] 
 My father! — Oh, how I have sighed and yearned for 
 this meeting! 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 269 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 God's peace be with you, Margrete! Where is the 
 King? 
 
 Mabgrete. 
 
 With Bishop Nicholas. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 Ha, — then must he soon be here. 
 
 Makgrete. 
 
 And you will talk together and be at one, be friends 
 again, as in the old days? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 That would I gladly. 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 'Twould rejoice H&kon no less; and I pray to God 
 every day that so it may be. Oh, but come hither and 
 see [ Takes his hand and leads him to the cradle. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 Your child! 
 
 Mabgrete. 
 
 Ay, that lovely babe is mine; — is it not marvellous? 
 He is called Hakon, like the King! See, his eyes — nay, 
 you cannot see them now he is sleeping — but he has 
 great blue eyes; and he can laugh, and reach forth his 
 hands to take hold of me, — and he knows me already. 
 [Smoothes out the bed-clothes tenderly. 
 
270 THE PRETENDERS [act iii 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 Hakon will have sons, the Bishop foretold. 
 
 Mahgrete. 
 
 To me this little child is a thousand times dearer than 
 all Norway's land — and to Hakon too. Meseems I can- 
 not rightly believe my happiness ; I have the cradle stand- 
 ing by my bedside; every night, as often as I waken, I 
 look to see if it be there— I am fearful lest it should 
 prove to be all a dream — — 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Listens and goes to the window.] Is not that the 
 King? 
 
 Mahgrete. 
 
 Ay; he is going up-the other stair; I will bring him. 
 [Takes her father's hand and leads him playfully up to 
 the cradle.] Duke Skule! Keep watch over the King- 
 child the while — for he is a King-child too — though I 
 ^can never remember it! Should he wake, then bow 
 deeply before him, and hail him as men hail kings! 
 Now will I bring Hakon. Oh, God, God! now at last 
 come light and peace over our house. 
 
 [Goes out to the right. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [After a short and gloomy silence.] H&,kon has a son. 
 His race shall live after him. If he die, he leaves an 
 heir who stands nearer the throne than all others. All 
 things thrive with Hakon. Mayhap he is not the right- 
 ful king; but his faith in himself stands firm as ever; 
 the Bishop would have shaken it, but Death gave him 
 
ACTiii] THE PRETENDERS 271 
 
 not time, God gave him not leave. God watches over 
 Hakon, and suffers him to keep the girdle of strength. 
 Were I to tell him now ? Were I to make oath to what 
 the Bishop told me? What would it avail.'' None 
 would believe me, neither Hakon nor the others. He 
 would have believed the Bishop in the hour of death; 
 the doubt would have rankled poisonously in him; but 
 it was not to be. - And deep-rooted as is Hakon's faith, 
 so is my doubt deep-rooted; what man on earth can 
 weed it out? None, none. The ordeal has been en- 
 dured, God has spoken, and still Hakon may not be 
 the rightful king, while my life goes to waste. [Seats 
 himself broodingly beside a table on the right.] And if, 
 now, I won the kingdom, would not the doubt dwell 
 with me none the less, gnawing and wearing and wasting 
 me away, with its ceaseless icy drip, drip. — Aye; but 'tis 
 better to sit doubting on the throne than to stand down 
 in the crowd, doubting of him who sits there in your 
 stead, — ^There must be an end between me and Hakon! 
 An end ? But how ? [Rises.] Almighty, thou who hast 
 thus bestead me, thou must bear the guilt of the issue! 
 [Goes to and fro, stops and reflects.] I must break down 
 all bridges, hold only one, and there conquer or fall 
 — as the Bishop said at the bridal-feast at Bergen. 
 That is now nigh upon three years since, and ^ihrough 
 all that time have I split up and spilt my strength in 
 trying to guard all the bridges. [With energy.] Now 
 must I follow the Bishop's counsel; now or never! 
 Here are we both in Oslo; this time I have more men 
 than Hakon; why not seize the advantage — 'tis so sel- 
 dom on my side. [Vacillating:] But to-night ? At 
 
 once— — "? No, no! Not to-night! Ha-ha-ha — there 
 again! — ^pondering, wavering! Hakon knows not what 
 that means; he goes straight forward, and so he con- 
 
272 THE PRETENDERS [act iii 
 
 quers! [Going up the room, stops suddenly beside the 
 cradle.] The King-child! — How fair a brow! He is 
 dreaming. [Smoothes out the bed-clethes, and looks lo^ 
 at the child.] Such an one as thou can save many 
 things in a man's soul. I have no son. [Bends over 
 
 the cradle.] He is like Hakon [Shrinks suddenly 
 
 backwards.] The King-child, said the Queen! Bow 
 low before him and hail him as men hail kings! Should 
 Hakon die before me, this child will be raised to the 
 throne; and I — I shall stand humbly before him, and 
 bow low and hail him as king! [In rising agitation.] 
 This child, Hakon's son, shall sit on high, on the seat 
 that should in right, mayhap, be mine — and I shall 
 stand before his footstool, white-haired and bowed with 
 age, and see my whole life-work lying undone — die 
 without having been king! — I have more men than 
 Hakon — ^there blows a storm to-night, and the wind 
 
 sweeps down the fiord ! If I took the King-child? 
 
 I am safe with the Tronders.' What would Hakon dare 
 attempt, were his child in my power? My men will 
 follow me, fight for me and conquer. Their reward 
 shall be kingly, and they know it. — So shall it be! I 
 will take the stride; I will leap the abyss, fpr the first 
 time! Could I but see if thou hast Sverre's eyes — 
 
 or Hakon Sverresson's ! He sleeps. I cannot see 
 
 them. [A pause.] Sleep is as a shield. Sleep in peace, 
 thou little Pretender! [Goes over to the table.] Hakon 
 shall decide; once again will I speak with him. 
 
 Mahghete. 
 
 [Enters, with the King, from the room on the right.] 
 The Bishop dead! Oh, trust me, all strife dies with 
 him. 
 
 ' Men of the Trondheim district. 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 273 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 To bed, Margrete! You must be weary after the 
 journey. 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 Yes, yes. [To the Duke.] Father, be kind and yield- 
 ing — Hakon has promised to be the like! A thousand 
 good-nights, to both of you ! 
 
 [Makes a gesture of farewell at the door on the left, 
 and goes out; two women carry out the cradle. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 King Hakon, this time we must not part as foes. 
 All evil will follow; there will fall a time of dread upon 
 the land. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 • 
 
 The land has known nought else through many gen- 
 erations; but, see you, God is with me; every foeman 
 falls that would stand against me. There are no more 
 Baglers, no Slittungs, no Ribbungs; Earl Jon is slain, 
 Guthorm Ingesson is dead, Sigurd Ribbung likewise — 
 all claims that were put forth at the folkmote at Bergen 
 have fallen powerless — ^from whom, then, should the 
 time of dread come now? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 H^kon, I fear me it might come from me! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 When I came to the throne, I gave you the third part 
 of the kingdom- 
 
274 THE PRETENDERS Ucriii 
 
 Duke Skulb. 
 But kept two-thirds yourself 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 You ever thirsted after more; I eked out your share 
 until now you hold half the kingdom. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 There lack ten ship-wards.' 
 
 HAkon, 
 
 I made you Duke; that has no man been in Norway 
 before you. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 But you are king! I must have no king over me; I 
 was not born to serve you; I must rule in my own 
 right! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Looks at him for a moment, and says coldly:] Heaven 
 guard your understanding, my lord. Good night. 
 
 [Going. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Blocking the way.] You shall not go from me thus!- 
 Beware, or I will forswear all faith with you; you can 
 no longer be my overlord ; we two must share ! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 You dare to say this to me! 
 
 ' Shibreder, districts each of which furnished a ship to the fleet. 
 
ACT in] THE PRETENDERS ?75 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 I have more men than you in Oslo, Hakon Hakonsson. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Mayhap you think to 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Hearken to me! Think of the Bishop's words! Let 
 us share; give me the ten ship-wards; let me hold my 
 share as a free kingdom, without tax or tribute. Norway 
 has ere this been parted into two kingdoms; — we will 
 hold firmly together 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Duke, you must be soul-sick, that you can crave such 
 a thing. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Ay, I am soul-sick, and there is no other healing for 
 me. We two must be equals; there must be no man 
 over me! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Every treeless skerry is a stone in the building which 
 Harald Harfager and the sainted King Olaf reared; 
 would you have me break in twain what they have 
 mortised together? Never! 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Well, then let us reign by turns; let each bear sway 
 for three years! You have reigned long; now my turn 
 has come. Depart from the land for three years; — I 
 
276 THE PRETENDERS [act in 
 
 will be king the while; I will even out your paths for 
 you against your home-coming; I will guide all things 
 for the best; — it wears and blunts the senses to sit ever 
 on the watch. Hdkon, hear me — three years each; let 
 us wear the crown by turns ! 
 
 HAkon. 
 Think you my crown would fit well on your brow? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 No crown is too wide for m e ' 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 It needs a God-sent right and a God-sent calling to 
 wear the crown. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 And know you so surely that you have a God-sent 
 right ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 I have God's own word for it. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Rest not too surely on that. Had the Bishop had 
 time to speak — but that were bootless now; you would 
 not believe me. Ay, truly you have mighty allies on 
 high; but I defy you none the less! You will not reign 
 by turns with me? Well — then must we try the last 
 resort; — Hakon, let us two fight for it, man to man, with 
 heavy weapons, for life or death! 
 
ACT HI] THE PRETENDERS 277 
 
 HAkon. 
 Speak you in jest, my lord ? 
 
 DxJKE Skule. 
 I speak for my life-work and for my soul's salvation! 
 
 HAkon. 
 Then is there small hope for the saving of your soul. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 You will not fight with me ? You shall, you shall! 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Oh blinded man! I cannot but pity you. You 
 think 'tis the Lord's calling that draws you toward the 
 throne; yoi; see not that 'tis nought but pride of heart. 
 What is it that allures you ? The royal circlet, the 
 purple-bordered mantle, the right to be seated three 
 steps above the .floor; — ^pitiful, pitiful! Were that 
 kingship, I would cast it into your hat, as I cast a groat 
 to a beggar. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 You have known me since your childhood, and you 
 judge me thus! 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 You have wisdom and courage and all noble gifts 
 of the mind; you are born to stand nearest a king, but 
 not to be a king yourself. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 That will we now put to the proof! 
 
278 THE PRETENDERS [act m 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Name me a single king's-task you achieved in all 
 the years you were regent for me! Were the Baglers 
 or the Ribbungs ever mightier than then ? You were 
 in ripe manhood, yet the land was harried by rebellious 
 factions; did you quell a single one of them? I was 
 young and untried when I came to the helm — look at me 
 — all fell before me when I became king; there are no 
 Baglers, no Ribbungs left! 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Beware how you boast of that; for there lies the 
 greatest danger. Party must stand against party, claim 
 against claim, region against region, if the king is to 
 have the might. Every^ village, every family, must 
 (jither need him or fear him. If you strike at the root 
 of faction, at the same stroke you kill your own power. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 And you would be king — ^you, who think such thoughts! 
 You had been well fitted for a chieftain's part in Erling 
 Skakke's days; but the time has grown away from you, 
 and you know it not. See you not, then, that Norway's 
 realm, as Harald and Olaf built it up, may be likened 
 to a church that stands as yet unconsecrate ? The walls 
 soar aloft with mighty buttresses, the vaultings have a 
 noble span, the spire points upward, like a fir-tree in 
 the forest; but the life, the throbbing heart, the fresh 
 blood-stream, is lacking to the work; God's living spirit 
 is not breathed into it; it stands unconsecrate. — I will 
 bring consecration ! Norway has been a kingdom, 
 it shall become a people. The Tronder has stood 
 against the man of Viken, the Agdeman against the Hor- 
 
ACTiii] THE PRETENDERS 279 
 
 dalander, the Halogalander against the Sogndalesman; 
 all shall be one hereafter, and all shall feel and know 
 that they are one! That is the task which God has 
 laid on my shoulders; that is the work which now 
 lies before the King of Norway. That life-work, Duke, 
 I think you were best to leave untried, for truly it is 
 beyond you. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Impressed.] To unite ? To unite the Tronders 
 
 and the men of Viken, — all Norway ? [Sceptically.] 
 
 'Tis impossible! Norway's saga tells of no such thing! 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 For you 'lis impossible, for you can but work out 
 the old saga afresh; for me, 'tis as easy as for the falcon 
 to cleave the clouds. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [In uneasy agitation.] To unite the whole people — 
 to awaken it so that it shall know itself one! When,ce 
 got you so strange a thought ? It runs through me like 
 ice and fire. [Vehemently.] It comes from the devil, 
 Hakon; it shall never be carried through while I have 
 strength to buckle on my helm. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 'Tis from God the thought comes to me, and never 
 shall I let it slip while I bear St. Olaf's circlet on my 
 brow! 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Then must St. Olaf's circlet fall from your brow! 
 
280 THE PRETENDERS [actiii 
 
 HAkon 
 Who will make it fall? 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 I, if none other. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 You, Skule, will be harmless after to-morrow's As- 
 sembly; 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 Hakon! Tempt not God! Drive me not out upon 
 the last ledge of the deep! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Poinis to the door.] Go, my lord — and be it forgotten 
 that we have spoken with sharp tongues this night. 
 
 Duke Skule. 
 
 [Looks hard at him for a moment, and says:] Next 
 time, 'twill be with sharper tongues we speak. 
 
 [Goes to the back. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [4fter a short -pause.] He threatens! No, no, it can- 
 not come to that. He must, he shall give way and do 
 my will; I have need of that strong arm, that cunning 
 brain. — Whatsoever courage and wisdom and strength 
 there may be in this land, all gifts that God has en- 
 dowed men withal, are but granted them to my uses. 
 For my service did all noble gifts fall to Duke Skule's 
 share; to defy me is to defy Heaven; 'tis my duty to 
 punish whosoever shall set himself up against Heaven's 
 will — for Heaven has done so much for me. 
 
ACTiu] THE PRETENDERS 281 
 
 Dagfinn the Peasant. 
 
 [Enters from the back.] Be on your guard to-night, my 
 lor(^; the Duke has surely evil in his mind. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 What say you ? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 What may be his drift, I know not; but sure am I 
 that something is brewing. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Can he think to fall upon us ? Impossible, impossible! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 No, 'tis something else. His ships lie clear for sail- 
 ing; he has summoned an Assembly on board them. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 You must mistake ! Go, Dagfinn, and bring me 
 
 sure tidings. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Ay ay, trust to me. [Goes. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 No, — 'tis not to be thought of! The Duke dare not 
 rise against me. God will not suffer it — God, who has 
 hitherto guided all things for me so marvellously. I 
 must have peace now, for 'tis now I must set about my 
 work! — I have done so little yet; but I hear the unerring 
 voice of the Lord calling to me: Thou shalt do a great 
 king's- work in Norway! 
 
282 THE PRETENDERS [act m 
 
 Gbegorius Jonsson. 
 [Enters from the back.] My lord and King! 
 
 HAkon. 
 Gregorius Jonsson ! Come you hither ? 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 
 I offer myself for your service. Thus far have I fol- 
 lowed the Dtike; but now I dare follow him no further. 
 
 HAkon. 
 What has befallen? 
 
 Gregoriits Jonsson. 
 
 That which no man will believe, when 'tis rumoured 
 through the land. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Speak, speak! 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 
 I tremble to hear the sound of my own words; know 
 then [He seizes the King's arm and whispers. 
 
 HAkon. 
 [Starts backwards with a cry.] Ha, are you distraught ? 
 
 Gregorius Jonsson. 
 Would to God I were. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Unheard of! No, it cannot be true! 
 
ACTiii] THE PRETENDERS 
 
 Gbegobius Jonsson. 
 By Christ's dear blood, so is it! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Go, go; sound the trumpet-call for my guard; get 
 all my men under arms. [Gregobius Jonsson goes. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Paces the room once or twice, then goes quickly up to 
 the door of Mabgbete 's chamber, knocks at it, takes one 
 or two more turns through the room, then goes again to 
 the door, knocks, and calls. 1 Margrete! 
 
 [Goes on facing up and down. 
 
 Mabgbete. 
 
 [In the doorway, attired for^ the night, with her hair 
 down; she has a red cloak round her shoulders, holding 
 it close together over her breast.] Hakon! Is it you? 
 
 HAkon. 
 Yes, yes; come hither. 
 
 Mabgbete. 
 Oh, but you must not look at me; I was in bed already. 
 
 HAkon. 
 I have other things to think of. 
 
 Mabgbete. 
 What has befallen. 
 
284 THE PRETENDERS [actiii 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Give me a good counsel! I have even now received 
 the worst tidings. 
 
 Margkete. 
 
 [Alarmed.] What tidings, Hakon ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 That there are now two kings in Norway. 
 
 Marghete. 
 Two kings in Norway!— Hakon, where is my father? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 He has proclaimed himself king on board his ship; 
 now he is sailing to Nidaros to be crowned. 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 Oh God, thou almighty — — ! 
 
 [Sinks down on the bench, covers her face with her 
 hands and weeps.] 
 
 HAkon. 
 Two kings in the land! 
 
 Margrete. 
 My husband the one — my father the other! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Pacing restlessly up and down.] Give me a good 
 counsel, Margrete! Should I cross the country by way 
 
ACT III] THE PRETENDERS 285 
 
 of the Uplands, come first to Nidaros, and prevent the 
 crowning? No, it may not be done; my men are too 
 few; there in the north he is more powerful than I. — 
 Give me counsel; how can I have the Duke slain, ere 
 he come to Nidaros ? 
 
 Mabgkete. 
 [Imploringly, with folded hands.] Hakon, Hakon!^ 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Can you not hit upon a good device, I say, to have the 
 Duke slain? 
 
 Makgrete. 
 
 [Sinks down from the bench in agony and remains kneel- 
 ing.] Oh, can you so utterly forget that he is my father ? 
 
 HAkon! 
 
 Your father ; ay, ay, it is true; I had forgotten. 
 
 [Raises her uf.] Sit, sit, Margrete; comfort you; do 
 not weep; you have no fault in this. [Goes over to the 
 window l\ Duke Skule will be worse for me than all 
 other foemen! God, God, — why hast thou stricken me 
 so sorely, when I have in nowise sinned! [A knock at 
 the door in the hack; he starts, listens, and cries:] Who 
 knocks so late ? 
 
 Inga's Voice. 
 
 \Without.] One who is a-cold, Hakon! 
 
 HAkon. 
 \With a cry.] My mother! 
 
286 THE PKETENDERS [actiii 
 
 Mabgrete. 
 [Springs up.] Inga! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Rushei to the door and opens' it; Inga is sitting on 
 the doorstep.] My mother! Sitting like a dog outside 
 her son's door! And I ask why God has stricken me!. 
 
 Inga. 
 
 ' [Stretches out her arms towards him.] Hakon, my 
 child! Blessings upon you! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Raising her up.] Come — come in; here are light 
 and warihth! 
 
 Inga. 
 
 M a y I come in to you ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 Never shall we part again. 
 
 Inga. 
 
 My son — my King — oh, but you are good And loving! 
 I stood in a corner and saw you, as you came from the 
 Bishop's Palace; you looked so sorrowful; I could 
 not part from you thus. 
 
 HAko^st. 
 
 God be thanked for that! No one, truly, could have 
 come to me more welcome than you! Margrete — my 
 
ACTin] THE PRETENDERS £87 
 
 mother — I have sorely sinned; I have barred my heart 
 against you two, who are so rich in love. 
 
 Mahgkete. 
 
 [Falls on his neck.] Oh, Hakon, my beloved husband; 
 do I stand near you now ? > 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Ay, near me, near me; not to give me cunning counsels, 
 but to shed light over my path. Come what will, I feel 
 the Lord's strength within me! 
 
 Dagfinn the Peasant. 
 
 [Enters hastily from the back.] My lord, my lord! 
 the worst has befallen! 
 
 HAe:o]{. 
 
 [Smiles confdently while he holds Mahgbete and Inga 
 closely to him.] I know it; but there is nought to fear, 
 good Dagfinn ! If there be two kings in Norway, there 
 is but one in Heaven — and He will set all straight ! 
 
ACT FOURTH 
 
 The great hall in Oslo Palace. King Skule is feasting 
 with the Guard and his Chiefs. In front, on the 
 left, stands the throne, where Skule sits, richly 
 attired, with a purple mantle and the royal circlet 
 on his head. The supper-table, by which the guests 
 are seated, stretches from the throne towards the bach- 
 ground. Opposite to Skule sit Paul Flida and 
 BAed Bbatte. Some of the humbler gussts are 
 standing, to the right. It is late evening; the halt 
 is brightly lighted. The banquet is drawing to a close; 
 the men are very merry, and some of them drunk; 
 they drink to each other, laugh, and all talk together. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [Rises and strikes the table.] Silence in the hall; 
 Jatgeir Skald will say forth his song in honour of King 
 Skule. 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 [Stands out, in the middle of the floor. ^ 
 
 Duke Skule he summoned the Orething ^ 
 
 When 'twas mass-time in Nidaros town; 
 
 And the bells rang and swords upon bucklers clashed 
 
 bravely 
 When Duke Skule he donned the crown. 
 
 'The metre of this song' is very rugged in the original, and the 
 wording purposely uncouth. 
 * See note, p. 163. 
 
 288 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 289 
 
 King Skule marched over the Dovrefjeld, 
 His host upon snow-shoes sped; 
 The Gudbranddalesman he grovelled for grace, 
 But his hoard must e'en ransom his head. 
 
 King Skule south over Miosen fared, — 
 The Uplander cursed at his banner; 
 King Skule hasted through Raumarike 
 To Laka in Nannestad manor. 
 
 'Twas all in the holy Shrove-tide week 
 
 We met with the Birchleg horde; 
 
 Earl Knut was their captain — the swords with loud tongue 
 
 In the suit for the throne made award. 
 
 They say of a truth that since Sverre's days 
 Was never so hot a fight; 
 Red-sprent, like warriors' winding-sheets. 
 Grew the upland that erst lay yhite. 
 
 They took to their heels did the Birchenlegs, 
 Flinging from them both buckler and bill there; 
 Many hundreds, though, took to their heels nevermore. 
 For they lay and were icily chill there. 
 
 No man knows where King Hakon hideth; — 
 King Skule stands safe at the helm. 
 All hail and long life to thee, lord, in thy state 
 As King of all Norway's realm! 
 
 Skule's Men. 
 
 [Spring up with loud juhilation, hold goblets and 
 beakers aloft, clash their weapons, and repeat: 
 
 All hail and long life to thee, lord, in thy state 
 As King of all Norway's realm! 
 
290 THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 King Skulb. 
 
 Thanks for the song, Jatgeir Skald! 'Tis as I best 
 like it; for it gives my men no less praise than myself. 
 
 Jatgeik. 
 The King is honoured when his men are praised. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Take as guerdon this arm-ring, stay with me, and be 
 of my, household; I will have many skalds about me. 
 
 Jatgeie. 
 
 'Twill need many, my lord, if all your great deeds are 
 to be sung. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 I will be threefold more bountiful than Hakon; the 
 skald's song shall be honoured and rewarded like all 
 other noble deeds, so long as I am king. Be seated; 
 now you belong to my household; all you have need 
 of shall be freely given you. 
 
 . Jatgeir. 
 
 [Seats himself.] Ere long there will be a dearth of 
 what I most need, my lord. 
 
 King Skule. 
 What mean you ? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 Foes to King Skule, whose flight and fall I can sing. 
 
ACTiv] THE PRETENDERS 291 
 
 Many of the Men. 
 [Amid laughter and applause.] Well said, Icelander! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [To Jatgeib.] The song was good; but 'tis known 
 there goes a spice of lying to every skaldwork, and yours 
 was not without it. 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 Lying, Sir Marshal P 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Ay; you say no man knows where King Hakon is 
 hiding; that is not true; we have certain tidings that 
 HHkon is at Nidaros. ' 
 
 King S^le. 
 
 [Smiling.] He has claimed homage for the King- 
 child, and given it the kingly title. 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 That have I heard; but I knew not that any man 
 could give away that which he himself does not possess. 
 
 King Skule. ^ 
 
 'Tis easiest to give what you yourself do not possess. 
 
 BAbd Beatte. 
 
 But it can scarce be easy to beg your way in mid- 
 winter from Bergen to Nidaros. 
 
292 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 The fortunes of the Birchlegs move in a ring; they 
 began liungry and frozen, and now they end in like case. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 'Tis rumoured in Bergen that Hakon has forsworn 
 the Church and all that is holy; he heard not mass on 
 New Year's day. 
 
 BArd Bbatte. 
 
 He could plead lawful hindrance, Paul; he stood all 
 day cutting his silver goblets and dishes to pieces — he 
 had naught else wherewith to pay his household. 
 
 [Laughter and loud talk among the guests. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Raises his goblet.] I drink to you, Bard Bratte, and 
 thank you and all my new men. You fought manfully 
 for me at Laka, and bore a great part in the victory. 
 
 BAbd Bratte. 
 
 It was the firSt time I fought under you, my lord; 
 but I soon felt that 'tis easy to conquer when such a 
 chieftain as you rides at the head of the host. But I 
 would we had not slain so many and chased them so 
 far; for now I fear 'twill be long ere they dare face us 
 again. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Wait till the spring: we shall meet them again, never 
 fear. Earl Knut lies with the remnant at Tunsberg 
 rock, and Arnbiorn Jonsson is gathering a force eastward 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 293 
 
 in Viken; when they deem themselves strong enough, 
 they will soon let us hear from them. 
 
 BAkd Bbatte. 
 
 They will never dare to, after the great slaughter at 
 Laka. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Then will we lure them forth with cunning. 
 
 Many Voices. 
 Ay, ay — do so, lord King! 
 
 BAbd Bratte. 
 
 You have good store of cunning. King Skule. Your 
 foemen have never warning ere you fall upon them, and 
 you are ever there where they least await you. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 'Tis therefore that the Birchlegs call us Varbselgs.' 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Others say Vargbrelgs; but this I swear, that when 
 next we meet, the Birchlegs shall learn how hard it is 
 to turn such Wolf-skins inside out. 
 
 ' The derivation of this word is doubtful. In the form Vargbwlg it 
 means Wolf-skin, from Icelandic Vargr=a. wolf, and Belgr=the skin 
 of an animal taken off whole. The more common form, however, is 
 Varbelg, which, as P. A. Munch suggests ("Det Norske Folks His- 
 torie," iii. 219), may possibly come from var (our word "ware"), a 
 , (covering, and may be an allusion to the falsity and cunning of the 
 faction. What Ibsen understands by the form V&rbcBlg I cannot 
 discover. Vdr (Icelandic Vdr) means the springtide. The nick- 
 name had been applied to a political faction as early as 1190, and 
 was merely revived as a designation for Skule's adherents. 
 
294 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 BAbd Bbatte. 
 
 With their good will shall we never meet — 'twill be a 
 chase the whole country round. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Ay, that it shall be. First we must purge Viken, 
 and make sure of all ihese eastward parts; then will we 
 get our ships together, and sail round the Naze and up 
 the coast to Nidaros. 
 
 BAed Bbatte. 
 
 And when you come in such wise to Nidaros, I scarce 
 think the monks will deny to move St. Olaf's shrine 
 out to the mote-stead, as they did in the autumn, when 
 we swore allegiance. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 The shrine shall out; I will bear my kingship in 
 in all ways lawfully. 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 And I promise you to sing a great death-song, when 
 you have slain the Sleeper. 
 
 [An outburst of laughter among the men. 
 
 King Skule. 
 The Sleeper ? 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 Know you not, my lord, that King Hakon is called 
 "Hakon the Sleeper," because he sits as though be- 
 numbed ever since you came to the throne? 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 295 
 
 BArd Bratte. 
 
 They say he lies ever with his eyes closed. Doubtless 
 he dreams that he is still king. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Let him dream; he shall never dream himself back 
 into the kingship. 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 Let his sleep be long and dreamless, then shall I have 
 stuff for songs. 
 
 The Men. 
 Ay, ay, do as the skald says! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 When so many good men counsel as one, the counsel 
 must be good; yet will we not*talk now of that matter. 
 But one promise I will make: each of my men shall 
 inherit the, weapons and harness, and gold and silver, 
 of whichever one of the enemy he slays;/ and each man 
 shall succeed to the dignities of him he lays low. He 
 who slays a baron shall himself be a baron; he who 
 slays a thane, shall receive his thaneship; and all they 
 who already hold such dignities and oflSces, shall be 
 rewarded after other kingly sort. 
 
 The Men. 
 
 [Spring up in wild delight.] Hail, hail. King Skule! 
 Lead us against the Birchlegs ! 
 
 BIed Bratte. 
 Now are you sure to conquer in all battles. 
 
296 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 I claim Dagfinn the Peasant for myself; he owns a 
 good sword that I have long hankered after. 
 
 BArd Bratte. 
 
 ' I will have Bard Torsteinsson's hauberk; it saved his 
 life at Laka, for it withstands both cut and thrust. 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 Nay, but let me have it; 'twill fit me better; you 
 shall have five golden marks in exchange. 
 
 BIbd Bratte. 
 Where will you find five golden marks. Skald ? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 . I will take them from Gregorius Jonsson when we 
 come northward. 
 
 The Men. 
 
 [All talking together.] And I will have — I will 
 have [The rest becomes indistinct in the hubbub. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Away! Every man to his quarters; bethink you that 
 you are in the King's hall. 
 
 The Men. 
 Ay, ay, — hail to the King, hail to King Skule! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 To bed now, good fellows! We have sat long over 
 the drinking-table to-night. 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 297 
 
 A Man-at-Arms. 
 
 [As the crowd is trooping out.] To-morrow we will 
 cast lots for the Birchlegs' goods. 
 
 Another. 
 Rather leave it to luck! 
 
 Nay, nay! 
 Ay, ay! 
 
 Several. 
 Others. 
 
 BArd Bratte. 
 Now the Wolf-skins are fighting for the bear-fell. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 And they have yet to fell the bear. 
 
 [All go out by the back. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Waits till the men are gone; the tension of his features 
 relaxes; he sinks upon a bench.] How weary I am, 
 weary to death. To live in the midst of that swarm 
 day out and day in, to look smilingly ahead as though 
 I were so immovably assured of right and victory and 
 fortune. To have no creature with whom I may speak 
 of all that gnaws me so sorely. [Rises with a look of 
 terror.] And the battle at Laka! That I should have 
 conquered there! Hakon sent his host against me; 
 God was to judge and award between the two kings — 
 and I conquered, conquered, as never any before has 
 conquered the Birchlegs! Their shields stood upright 
 
THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 in the snow, but there was none behind them — the 
 Birchlegs took to the woods, and fled over upland and 
 moor and lea as far as their legs would carry them. 
 The unbelievable came to pass; Hakon lost and I won. 
 There is a secret horror in that victory. Thou great 
 God of Heaven! there rules, then, no certain law on 
 high, that all things must obey.'' The right carries 
 with it no conquering might .-' [With a cJiange of tone, 
 wildly.] I am sick, I am sick! — Wherefore should 
 not the right be on my side ? May I not deem that 
 God himself would assure me of it, since he let me 
 conquer? [Brooding.] The possibilities are even; — 
 not a feather-weight more on the one side than on 
 the other; and yet — [shakes his head\ — yet the balance 
 dips on Hakon's part. I have hatred and hot desire to 
 cast into my scale, yet the balance dips on Hakon's part. 
 When the thought of the kingly right comes over me 
 unawares, 'tis ever he, not I, that is the true king. When 
 I would see myself as the true king, I must do it with 
 forethought, I must build up a whole fabric of subtleties, 
 a work of cunning; I must hold memories aloof, and 
 take faith by storm. It was not so before. What has 
 befallen to fill me so full of doubt ? The burning of 
 the letter? No — ^that made the uncertainty eternal, 
 but did not add to it. Has Hakon done any great and 
 kingly deed in these later days ? No, his greatest deeds 
 were done while I least believed in him. [Seats himself 
 on the right.] What is it? Ha, strange! It comes 
 and goes like a marsh-fire; it dances at the tip of my 
 tongue, as when one has lost a word and cannot find it. 
 
 [S-prings up.] Ha! Now I have it! No ! Yes, yes! 
 
 Now I have it ! — " Norway has been a kingdom, it 
 shall become a people; all shall be one, and all 
 shall feel and know that they are one!" Since Hakon 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 299 
 
 spoke those madman's words, he stands ever before me 
 as the rightful king. [Whispers with fixed and appre- 
 hensive gaze.] What if God's calling glimmered through 
 these strange words? If God had garnered up the 
 thought till now, and would now strew it forth — and 
 had chosen Hakon for his sower ? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [Enters from the back.] My lord King, I have tidings 
 for you. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Tidings ? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 A man who comes from down the fiord brings news 
 that the Birchlegs in Tunsberg have launched their 
 ships, and that many men have gathered in the town 
 in these last days. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Good, we will go forth to meet them — to-morrow or 
 the day after. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 It might chance, my lord King, that the Birchlegs 
 had a mind to meet us first. 
 
 King Skule. 
 They have not ships enough for that, nor men. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 But Arnbiorn Jonsson is gathering both men and 
 ships, all round in Viken. 
 
300 THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 The better for us; we will crush them at one blow, 
 as we did at Laka. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 My lord, 'tis not so easy to crush the Birchlegs twice 
 following. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 And wherefore not? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Because Norway's saga tells not that the like has ever 
 befallen. Shall I send forth scouts to Hoved-isle? 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 'Tis needless; the night is dark, and there is a sea- 
 fog to boot. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Well well, the King knows best; but bethink you. 
 my lord, that all men are against you here in Viken. 
 The townsfolk of Oslo hate you, and should the Birch- 
 legs come, they will make common cause with them. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [With animation.] Paul Flida, were it not possible 
 that I could win over the men of Viken to my side? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [Looks at him in astonishment, and shakes his head.] 
 No, my lord, it is not possible. 
 
ACTiv] THE PRETENDERS 301 
 
 King Skule. 
 And wherefore not ? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Why, for that you have the Tronders on your side. 
 
 King Skule. 
 I will have both the Tronders and the men of Viken! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Nay, my lord, that cannot be! 
 
 , King Skule. 
 
 Not possible! cannot be! And wherefore — where- 
 fore not? 
 
 PAtTL FlAa. 
 
 Because the man of Viken is the man of Viken, the 
 Tronder is the Tronder; because so it has always been, 
 and no saga tells of a lime when it was otherwise. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Ay, ay — ^you are right. Go. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 And send forth no scouts? 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Wait till daybreak. [Paul Flida goes.] Norway's 
 saga tells of no such thing; it has never been so yet; 
 Paul Flida answers me as I answered H&kon. Are 
 
302 THE PRETENDERS ,. [activ 
 
 there, then, upward as well as downward steps ? Stands 
 Hakon as high over me as I over Paul Flida? Has 
 Hakon an eye for unborn thoughts, that is lacking in 
 me? Who stood so high as Harold Harfager in the 
 days when every headland had its king, and he said: 
 Now they must fall — hereafter shall there be but one? 
 He threw the old saga to the winds, and made a new 
 saga. [A pause; he paces up and down lost in thought; 
 then he stops.] Can one man take God's calling from 
 another, as he takes weapons and gold from his fallen 
 foe? Can a Pretender clothe himself in a king's life- 
 Jask, as he can put on the kingly mantle? The oak 
 l?that is felled to be a ship's timber, can it say: Nay, I 
 ■will be the mast, I will take on me the task of the fir- 
 tree, point upwards, tall and shining, bear the golden 
 vane at my top, spread bellying white sails to the sun- 
 shine, and meet the eyes of all men, from afar! — No, 
 no, thou heavy gnarled oak-trunk, thy place is down 
 in the keel; there shalt thou lie, and do thy work, 
 unheard-of and unseen by those aloft in the daylight; 
 it is thou that shalt hinder the ship from being whelmed 
 /in the storm; while the mast with the golden vane and 
 yhe bellying sail shall bear it forward toward the new, 
 / toward the unknown, toward alien strands and the saga 
 \of the future! [Vehemently.] Since Hakon uttered his 
 fgrent king-thought, I can see no other thought in the 
 world but that only. If I cannot take it and act it out, 
 I see no other thought to fight for. [Brooding.] And 
 can I not make it mine? If I cannot, whence comes 
 Ijgay great love for Hakon's thought ? 
 
 Jatgeik. 
 
 [Enters from the back.] Forgive my coming, lord 
 King 
 
ACTiv] THE PRETENDERS 303 
 
 King Skttle. 
 You come to my wish, Skald! 
 
 Jatgeik. 
 
 I overheard some townsfolk at my lodging talking 
 darkly of 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Let that wait. Tell me, Skald: you who have fared 
 far abroad in strange lands, have you ever seen a woman 
 love another's child ? Not only have kindness for it — 
 'tis not that I mean; but love it, love it with the 
 warmest passion of her soul. 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 That do only those women who have no child of their 
 own to love. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Only those women ? 
 
 Jatgeik. 
 And chiefly women who are barren. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Chiefly the barren ? They love the children of 
 
 others with all their warmest passions? 
 
 J^TGEIB. 
 
 That will oftentimes befall. 
 
304 THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 And does it not sometimes befall that such a barren 
 woman will slay another's child, because she herself 
 has none? 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 Ay, ay; but in that she does unwisely. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Unwisely ? 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 Ay, for she gives the gift of sorrow to her whose child 
 she slays. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Think you the gift of sorrow is a great good ? 
 
 Jatgeik. 
 Yes, lord. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Looks fixedly at him.] Methinks there are two men 
 in you, Icelander. When you sit amid the household 
 at the merry feast, you draw cloak and hood over all 
 your thoughts; when one is alone with you, sometimes 
 you seem to be of those among whom one were fain to_ 
 choose his friend. How comes it ? 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 When you go to swim in the river, my lord, you would 
 scarce strip you where the people pass by to church; you 
 seek a sheltered privacy. * 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 305 
 
 King Skule. 
 True, true. 
 
 Jatgeik. 
 
 My soul has the like shamefastness; therefore I do 
 not strip me when there are many in the hall. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Ha. [A short pause.] Tell me, Jatgeir, how come 
 you to be a skald ? Who taught you skaldcraft ? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 Skaldcraft cannot be taught, my lord. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Cannot be taught? How came it then? 
 
 Jatgeih. 
 The gift of sorrow came to me, and I was a skald. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Then 'tis the gift of sorrow the skald has need of? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 I needed sorrow; others there may be who need faith, 
 or joy — or doubt 
 
 King Skule. 
 Doubt as well? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 Ay; but then must the doubter be strong and sound. 
 
306 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 King Skule. 
 And whom call you the unsound doubter? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 He who doubts of his own doubt. 
 
 King Skule. 
 [Slowly.] That, methinks, were death. 
 
 Jatqeih. 
 'Tis worse; 'tis neither day nor night. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Quickly, as if shaking off his thoughts.] Where are 
 my weapons? I will fight and act — not think. What 
 was it you wofcld have told me when you came ? 
 
 Jatgeih. 
 
 'Twas what I noted in my lodging. The townsmen 
 whisper together secretly, and laugh mockingly, and ask 
 if we be well assured that King Hakon is in the west- 
 laijd; there is somewhat they are in glee over. 
 
 King Skule. 
 They are men of Viken, and therefore against me. 
 
 Jatgeih. 
 
 They scoff because King Olaf's shrine could not be 
 brought out to the mote-stead when you were chosen 
 king; they say it boded ill. 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 307 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 When next I come to Nidaros, the shrine shall out! 
 It shall stand under the open sky, though I should have 
 to tear down St. Olaf's church and widen out the mote- 
 stead over the spot where it stood. 
 
 Jatgeih. 
 
 That were a strong deed; but I shall make a song of 
 it, as strong as the deed itself. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Have you many unmade songs within you, Jatgeir ? 
 
 Jatgeik. 
 
 Nay, but many unborn; they are conceived one after 
 the other, come to life, and are brought forth. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 And if I, who am King and have the might, if I were 
 to have you slain, would all the unborn skald-thoughts 
 you bear within you die along with you ? 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 My lord, it is a great sin to slay a fair thought. 
 
 King Skule. 
 I ask not if it be a sin; I ask if it be possible! 
 
 Jatgeih. 
 I know not. 
 
308 THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Have you never had another skald for your friend, 
 and has he never unfolded to you a great and noble 
 song he thought to make ? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 Yes, lord. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Did you not then wish that you could slay him, to take 
 his thought and make the song yourself? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 My lord, I am not barren; I have children of my own; 
 I need not to love those of other men. [Goes. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [After a pause.] The Icelander is in very deed a skald. 
 
 He speaks God's deepest truth and knows it not / 
 
 am as a barren woman. Therefore I love Hakon's 
 kingly thought-child, love it with the warmest passion 
 of my soul. Oh, that I could but adopt' it! It would 
 die in my hands. Which were best, that it should 
 die in my hands, or wax great in his? Should I ever 
 have peace of soul if that came to pass ? Can I forego 
 all? Can I stand by and see Hakon make" himself 
 famous for all time! How dead and empty is all within 
 me — and around me. No friend — ; ah, the Icelander! 
 [Goes to the door and calls:] Has the skald gone from 
 the palace? 
 
 A Guard. 
 
 [Outside.] No, my lord; he stands in the outer hall 
 talking with the watch. 
 
 ' KruBswtte, see note, p. 37. 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 309 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Bid him come hither. [Goes forward to the table; 
 presently Jatgeih enters.] I cannot sleep, Jatgeir; 'tis 
 all my great kingly thoughts that keep me awake, you 
 see. 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 'Tis with the king's thoughts as with the skald's, I 
 doubt not. They fly highest and grow quickest when 
 there is night and stillness around. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Is it so with the skald's thoughts too? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 Ay, lord; no song is born by daylight; it may be 
 written down in the sunshine; "but it makes itself in the 
 silent night. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Who gave you the gift of sorrow, Jatgeir ? 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 She whom I loved. 
 
 King Skule. 
 She died, then. 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 No, she deceived me. 
 
 King Skule. 
 And then you became a skald ? 
 
SIO THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 Ay, then I became a skald. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Seizes him by the arm.] What gift do / need to 
 oecome a king ? 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 Not the gift of doubt; else would you not question so. 
 
 King Skule. 
 What gift do I need ? 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 My lord, you area king. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Have y o u at all times full faith that you are a skald ? 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 [Looks silenily at him for a while, and asks.] Have 
 you never loved ? » 
 
 King Skule. 
 Yes, once — burningly, blissfully, and in sin. 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 You have a wife. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Her I took to bear me sons. 
 
ACTiv] THE PRETENDERS 311 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 But you have a daughter, my lord — a gracious and 
 noble daughter. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Were my daughter a son, I would not ask you what 
 gift I need. [Vehemently.] I must have some one by 
 me who sinks his own will utterly in mine — who be- 
 
 i Jieves in me unflinchingly, who will cling close to me in 
 good hap and ill, who lives only to shed light and warmth 
 
 I over my life, and must die if I fall. Give me counsel, 
 
 ' Jatgeir Skald ! 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 Buvyour self a dogj my., lord. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Would no man sufiice? 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 You would have to search long for such a man. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Suddenly.] Will you be that man to me, Jatgeir ? 
 Will you be a son to me? You shall have Nbrway's 
 crown to your heritage — the whole land shall be yours, 
 if you will be a son to me, and live for my life-work, 
 and believe in me. 
 
 Jatgeir. 
 
 And what should be my warranty that I did not 
 feign ? 
 
312 THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Give up your calling in life; sing no more songs, and 
 then will I believe you! 
 
 Jatgeih. 
 No, lord — that were to buy the crown too dear. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Bethink you well — 'tis greater to be a king than a 
 skald. 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 Not always. 
 
 King Skule. 
 'Tis but your unsung songs you must sacrifice! 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 Songs unsung are ever^t^g-iairest. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 But I must — I must have one who can trust in 
 me! Only one! I feel it — had I that one, I were saved ! 
 
 Jatgeih. 
 Trust in yourself and you will be saved ! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [ErUers hastily.] King Skule, look to yourself! Hakon 
 Hakonsson lies off Elgjarness with all his fleet! 
 
 King Skule. 
 Off Elgjarness ! Then he is close at hand. 
 
ACTiv] THE PRETENDERS 313 
 
 Jatgeik. 
 
 Get we to arms then ! If there be bloodshed to-night, 
 I will gladly be the first to die for you ! 
 
 King Skule. 
 You, who would not live for me ! 
 
 Jatgeib. 
 
 I A man can die for another's life-work; but if he go 7 
 \on living, he must live for his own. [Goes. \ 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [Impatiently.] Your commands, my lord ! The Birch- 
 legs may be in Oslo this very hour. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 'Twere best if we could fare to St. Thomas Beckett's 
 grave; he has helped so many a sorrowful and penitent 
 soul. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [More forcibly.] My lord, speak not so wildly now; 
 I tell you, the Birchlegs are upon us! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Let all the churches be opened, that we may betake 
 us thither and find grace. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 You can crush all your foemen at one stroke, and yet 
 would betake you to the churches! 
 
314 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 King Skule. 
 Yes, yes, keep all the churches open! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Be sure Hakon will break sanctuary, when 'tis Y&t- 
 baelgs he pursues. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 That will he not; God will shield him from such a 
 sin; — God always shields Hakon. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [In deep and sorrowful wrath.] To hear you speak 
 thus, a man could not but ask : Who is king in this land ? 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Smiling mournfully.] Ay, Paul Flida, that is the 
 great question: Who is king in this land ? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [Imploringly.] You are soul-sick to-night, my lord; 
 let me act for you. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Ay, ay, do so. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 [Going.] First will I break down all the bridges. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Madman ! Stay ! — Break down all the bridges ! Know 
 you what that means? I have assayed it; — beware of 
 that! 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 315 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 What would you then, my lord ? 
 
 King Skule. 
 I will talk with Hakon. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 He will answer you with a tongue of steel. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Go, go; — you shall learn my will anon. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Every moment is precious! [Seizes his hand.] King 
 Skule, let us break down all^ the bridges, fight like 
 Wolves,' and trust in Heaven! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Softly.] Heaven trusts not in me; I dare not trust 
 in Heaven. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Short has been the saga of the Varbaelgs. 
 
 [Goes out by the back. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 A hundred cunning heads, a thousand mighty arms, 
 are at my beck; but not a single loving, trusting heart. 
 That is kingly beggary; no more, no less. 
 
 ' Varger, the first part of the word V&rboelg. 
 
316 THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 BIbd Bratte. 
 
 [From the back.] Two wayfarers from afar stand 
 without, praying to have speech with you my lord. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Who are they ? 
 
 BAhd Bhatte. 
 A woman and a priest. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Let the woman and the priest approach. 
 [BAkd goes; King Skule seats himself, musing, on 
 the right; presently there enters a black-robed 
 woman; she wears a long cloak, a hood, and a 
 thick veil, which conceals her face; a priest follows 
 her, and remains standing by the door. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Who are you ? 
 
 The Woman. 
 One you have loved. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Shaking his head.] There lives no one who re- 
 members that I have loved. Who are you, I ask? 
 
 The Woman. 
 One who loves you. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Then are you surely one of the dead. 
 
ACTivl THE PRETENDERS 317 
 
 The Woman. 
 
 [Comes close to him and says softly and passionately.] 
 Skule Bardsson! 
 
 King Skule. 
 [Rises with a cry.] Ingeborg! 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 Do you know me now, Skule? 
 
 King Skule. 
 Ingeborg, — Ingeborg ! 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 Oh, let me look at you — look long at you, so long! 
 [Seizes his hands; a pause.] You fair, you deeply loved, 
 you faithless man! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Take oflF that veil; look at me with the eyes that 
 once were as clear and blue as the sky. 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 These eyes have been but a rain-clouded sky for 
 twenty years; you would not know them again, and you 
 shall never see them more. 
 
 King Skule. 
 But your voice is fresh and soft and young as ever! 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 I have used it only to whisper your name, to im- 
 print your greatness in a young heart, and to pray to 
 
318 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 the sinners' God for grace toward us twain, who have 
 loved in sin. 
 
 King SSule. 
 
 You have done that? 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 
 I have been silent save to speak loving words of 
 you; — therefore has my voice remained fresh and soft 
 and young. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 There lies a life-time between. Every fair memory 
 from those days have I wasted and let slip— ^ — 
 
 Ingebokg. 
 It was your right. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 And meantime you, Ingeborg, loving, faithful 
 woman, have dwelt there in the north, guarding and 
 treasuring your memories, in ice-cold loneliness! 
 
 Ingebokg. 
 It was my happiness. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 And I could give you up to win might and riches! 
 With you at my side, as my wife, I had found it easier 
 to be a king. 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 God has been good to me in willing il otherwise. A 
 soul like mine had need of a great sin, to arouse it to 
 remorse and expiation. 
 
ACTiv] THE PRETENDERS 319 
 
 King Skule. 
 And now you come ? 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 As Andres Skialdarband's widow. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Your husband is dead! 
 
 . lNGEBCr.3. 
 
 On the way from Jerusalem. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Then has he atoned for the slaying of Vegard. 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 'Twas not therefore that my noble husband took the 
 Cross. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Not therefore? 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 No ; it was m y- sin he took upon his strong, loving 
 shoulders; 'twas that he went to wash away in Jor- 
 dan stream; 'twas for that he bled. 
 
 King Skule. 
 [Softly.] Then he knew all. 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 From the first. And Bishop Nicholas knew it, for 
 to him I confessed. And there was one other man that 
 came to know it, though how I cannot guess. 
 
320 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 KiijrG Skule. 
 Who? 
 
 Ingebobg. ■ 
 Vegard Vseradal. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Vegard ! 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 He whispered a mocking word • of me into my hus- 
 band's ear; and thereupon Andres Skialdarband drew 
 his sword, and slew him on the spot. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 He kept ward over her whom I betrayed and forgot. 
 — Apd wherefore seek you me now ? 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 To bring you the last sacrifice. 
 
 King Skule. 
 What mean you ? 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 
 [Points to the Priest who stands by the door.] Look 
 at him! — Peter, my son, come hither! 
 
 King Skule. 
 Your son ! 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 And yours, King Skule! 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 321 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Half bewildered.] Ingeborg! 
 
 [Peter approaches in silent emotion, and throws 
 himself before King Skule. 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 Take him! For twenty years has he been the light 
 and comfort of my life. — Now are you King of Norway; 
 the King's son must enter on his heritage; I have no 
 longer any right to him. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Raises him up, in a storm of joy.] Here, to my heart, 
 you whom I, have yearned for so burningly! [Presses 
 him in his arms, lets him go, looks at him, and embraces 
 him again.] My son ! My son ! I have a son ! Ha-ha- 
 ha! who can stand against me now? [Goes over to 
 Ingeborg and seizes her hand.] And you, you give 
 him to me, Ingeborg ! You take not back your word ? 
 You give him to me indeed ? 
 
 Ingeborg. 
 
 Heavy is the sacrifice, and scarce had I strength to 
 make it, but that Bishop Nicholas sent him to me, 
 bearing a letter with tidings of Andres Skialdarband's 
 death. 'Twas the Bishop that laid on me the heavy 
 sacrifice, to atone for all my sin. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Then is the sin blotted out, and henceforth he is mine 
 alone; is it not so, mine alone? 
 
sm THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 Yes; but one promise I crave of you. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Heaven and earth, crave all you will! 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 
 He is pure as a lamb of God, as I now give him into 
 your hands. 'Tis a perilous path that leads up to the 
 throne; let him not take hurt to his soul. Hear you. 
 King Skule: let not my child take hurt to his soul! 
 
 King Skule. 
 That I promise and swear to you! 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 
 [Seizes his arm.] From the moment you mark that 
 his soul suffers harm, let him rather die! 
 
 King Skule. 
 Rather die! I promise and swear it! 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 Then shall I be of good cheer as I go back to Halo- 
 
 KiNG Skule. 
 Ay, you may be of good cheer. 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 
 There will I repent and pray, till the Lord calls me. 
 And when we meet before God, he shall come back to 
 me pure and blameless. 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 323 
 
 King Sktjle. 
 
 Pure and blameless! [Turning to Peteb.] Let me 
 look at you! Ay, your mother's features and mine; 
 you are he for whom I have longed so sorely. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 My father, my great, noble father! Let me live and 
 fight for you! Let your cause be mine; and be your 
 cause what it may — I know that I am fighting for the 
 right ! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [With a cry of joy.] You trust in me ! You trust in me ! 
 
 Peteb. 
 Immovably! 
 
 King Sktjle. 
 
 Then all is well; then am J surely saved! Listen: 
 you shall cast off the cowl; the Archbishop shall loose 
 you from your vows; the King's son shall wield the 
 sword, shall go forward unwavering to might and honour. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Together with you, my noble father! We will go 
 together! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Drawing the youth close up to himself.] Ay, together, 
 we two alone! 
 
 Ingebobg. 
 
 [To herself] To love, to sacrifice all- and be for- 
 gotten, that is my saga.' [Goes quietly out by the back. 
 
 ' As to the earlier text of this scene, see Brandes' Ibsen and Bjomson 
 (Heinemaim, 1899), p. 29. 
 
324 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Now shall a great king's-work be done in Norway! 
 Listen, Peter, my son! We will awaken the whole 
 people, and gather it into one; the man of Viken and 
 the Tronder, the Halogalander and the Agdeman, the 
 Uplander and the Sogndaleman, all shall be o n e great 
 family! Then shall you see how the land will come to 
 flourish! 
 
 Peteh. 
 
 What a grea{ and dizzy thought 
 
 King Skule. 
 Do you grasp it ? 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Yes — yes ! — Clearly ! 
 
 King Skule 
 And have you faith in it ? 
 
 Petek. 
 Yes, yes; for I have faith in you! 
 
 King Skule. 
 [Wildly.] Hakon Hakonsson must die. 
 
 Peteb. 
 If you will it, then it is right that he die. 
 
 King Skule. 
 'Twill cost blood; but that we cannot heed! 
 
AcTiv] THE PRETENDERS 325 
 
 Peter. 
 The blood is not wasted that flows in your «ause. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 All the might shall be yours when I have built up 
 the kingdom. You shall sit on the throne with the 
 circlet on your brow, with the purple mantle flowing 
 wide over your shoulders; all men in the land shall 
 
 bow before you [The sounds of distant homs^ are 
 
 heard.] Ha! what was that? [With a cry.] The 
 
 Birchleg host! What was it Paul Flida said ? 
 
 [Rushes towards the back. 
 
 Pattl Flida. 
 [Enters and cries.] The hour is upon us, King Skule! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 « 
 
 [Bewildered.] The Birchlegs! King Hakon's host! 
 Where are they? 
 
 Paul Flida." 
 
 They are swarming in thousands down over the 
 Ekeberg. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Sound the call to arms ! Sound, sound ! Give counsel; 
 where shall we meet them ? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 All the churches stand open for us. 
 
 ^ Lur, the long wooden horn still used among the mountains in 
 Norway. 
 
326 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 King Skule. 
 'Ti^ of the Birchlegs I ask ? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 For them all the bridges stand open. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Unhappy man, what have you done! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Obeyed my King! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 My son! My son! Woe is me; I have lost your 
 kingdom ! 
 
 Peter. 
 
 No, you will conquer! So great a king's-thought 
 cannot die! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Peace, peace! [Horns and shouts are heard, nearer 
 at hand.] To horse! To arms! More is here at stake 
 than the life and death of men! 
 
 [Rushes out by the back; the others follow him. 
 
 street in Oslo. On each side, low wooden houses, 
 with porches. At the back, St. Hallvard's church- 
 yard, enclosed by a high wall with a gate. On the 
 left, at the end of the wall, is seen the church, the 
 chief portal of which stands open. It is still night; 
 after a little, the day begins to dawn. The alarm- 
 bell is ringing: far away on the right are heard 
 
 ■ battle-shouts and confused noises. 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 327 
 
 King Skule's Hobnblower. 
 
 [Enters from the right, blows his horn, and shoids.] 
 To arms! To arms, all King Skule's men! 
 
 [Blows his horn again, and proceeds on his way; 
 presently he is heard blowing and shouting in the 
 next street. 
 
 A Woman. 
 
 [Appears at a house door on the right.] Great God 
 of mercy, what is astir ? 
 
 A Townsman. 
 
 [Who has come out, half dressed, from a house on the 
 other side of the street.] The Birchlegs are in the town ! 
 Now will Skule have his reward for all his misdeeds. 
 
 One of Skule's Men. 
 
 [Enters with some others, bearing their cloaks and 
 weapons on their arms, from a side street on the left.] 
 Where are the Birchlegs ? 
 
 Another of Skule's Men. 
 [Coming from a house on the right.] I know not! 
 
 The First. 
 
 Hist! Listen! — They must be down at the Geitcr 
 bridge ! 
 
 The Second. 
 
 Off to the Geite-bridge then! 
 
 [They all rush out to the right; a townsman comes 
 running in from the same side. ■ 
 
328 THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 The First Townsman. 
 Hey, neighbour, whence come you ? 
 
 The Second Townsman. 
 From down at the Lo-river; there's ugly work there. 
 
 The Woman. 
 
 St. Olaf and St. Hallvard ! Is it the Birchlegs, or who 
 is it? 
 
 The Second Townsman. 
 
 Who else but the Birchlegs! King Hakon is with 
 them; the whole fleet is laying in to the wharves; but 
 he himself landed with his best men out at Ekeberg. 
 
 The First Townsman. 
 Then will he take revenge for the slaughter at Laka! 
 
 The Second Townsman. 
 Ay, be sure of that. 
 
 The First Townsman. 
 See, see! The Vlirbaelgs are flying already! 
 
 A troop o/'Skule's men enter in full Jlighi, from the 
 right. 
 
 One of Them. 
 
 Into the church! None can stand against the Birch- 
 legs as they lay about them to-night. 
 
 [The troop rushes into the church and bars the door 
 on the inside. 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 329 
 
 The Second Townsman. 
 
 [Looking out to the right.] I see a standiard far down 
 the street; it must be King Hakon's. 
 
 The First Townsman. 
 See, see, how the Varbselgs are running! 
 
 A second troop enters from the right. 
 
 One of the Fugitives. 
 
 Let us take to the church and pray for grace. 
 
 [They rush at the door. 
 
 Several VArb^elgs. 
 'Tis barred! 'tis barred! 
 
 The First. 
 Up over Martestokke then! 
 
 Another. 
 Where is King Skule? 
 
 The First. 
 
 I know not. Away! yonder I see the Birchlegs' 
 standard! [They flee past the church, out to the left. 
 
 HAkon enters from the right vnth his Standard-bearer, 
 Gregorius Jonsson, Dagfinn the Peasant, and 
 several other -men. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Hark to the war-cry! Skule is gathering his men 
 behind the churchyard. 
 
330 THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 An Old Townsman. 
 
 [Calls from his porch, to HIkon.] Take heed for 
 yourself, dear my lord; the Varbselgs are fierce, now 
 they are fighting for life. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Is it you, old Guthorm Erlendsson ? You have fought 
 both for my father and for my grandfather. 
 
 The Townsman. 
 Would to God I could fight for you as well. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 For that you are too old, and there is no need; men 
 pour in upon me from all sides. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Pointing off over tlie wall to the right.] There comes 
 the Duke's standard! 
 
 Gregohius Jonsson. 
 The Duke himself! He rides his white war-horse. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 We must hinder his passage through the gate here! 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Wind the horn, wind the horn! [The Hornblower 
 does so.] You blew better, you whelp, when you blew 
 for money on Bergeh wharf. 
 
 [The Hornblower winds another blast, louder than 
 the first; many men come rushing in. 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 331 
 
 A VArb^lg. 
 
 [From the right, fleeing towards the church, fiursued by 
 a Birchleg.] Spare my life! Spare my life! 
 
 The Bibchleg. 
 
 Not though you sat on the altar! [Cuts him down.] 
 'Tis a costly cloak you wear, methinks 'twill fit me well. 
 [Is about to take the cloak, but utters a cry and casts away 
 his sword.] My lord King! Not another stroke will I 
 strike for you 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 You say that in such an hour as this ? 
 
 The Birchleg. 
 Not another stroke! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 [Cuts him down.] Well, you may e'en let it alone. 
 
 The Birchleg. 
 
 [Pointing to the dead Vdrbmlg.] Methought I had 
 •Jone enough when I slew my own brother. [Dies. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 His brother! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 What! [Goes up to the Vdrbwla's body. 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Is it true ? 
 
332 THE PRETENDERS iact iv 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 I fear me it is. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Shaken.] Here see we what a war we are waging. 
 Brother against brother, father against son; — by God 
 Almighty, this must have an end! 
 
 Gbegobius Jonsson. 
 
 There comes the Duke, in full fight with Earl Knut's 
 troop ! 
 
 D> AG FINN. 
 
 Bar the gate against him, king's men! 
 
 On the other side of the wall, the combatants come in sight. 
 The Vdrbcelgs are forcing their way towards the left, 
 driving the Birchlegs back, foot by foot. King Skule 
 rides his white war-horse, with his sword drawn. 
 Petek walks at his side, holding the horse's bridle, 
 and with his left hand uplifting a crucifix. Paul 
 Flida bears Skule's standard, which is blue, with 
 a golden lion rampani, without the axe.^ 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Cut them down! Spare no man! There is come a 
 new heir^ to the throne of Norway! 
 
 The Bikchlegs. > 
 
 A new heir, said he ? 
 
 ' The' arms of Norway consist of alion rampant, holding an axe. 
 ' Et nyt kongs-emne. 
 
ACTiv] THE PRETENDERS 333 
 
 HAkon. 
 Skule Bardsson, let us share the kingdom! 
 
 King Sktjle, 
 All or nought! 
 
 HA.KON. 
 
 Think of the Queen, your daughter! 
 
 King Skule. 
 I have a son, I have a son! I think of none but him! 
 
 HAkon. 
 I too have a son; — if I fall the kingdom will be his! 
 
 King Skulij. 
 
 Slay the King-child, wherever you find it! Slay it on 
 the throne; slay it at the altar; slay it — slay it in the 
 Queen's arms! 
 
 HAkon. 
 There did you utter your own doom' 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Slashing about him.] Slay, slay without mercy! 
 King Skule has a son! Slay, slay! 
 , [The fighting gradually passes away to the left. 
 
 Gbegobius Jonsson. 
 The Varbselgs are hewing their way through! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Ay, but only to flee. 
 
334 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 Gbegokius Jonsson. 
 
 Yes, by Heaven, — the other gate stands open; they 
 are fleeing already! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 Up towards Martestokke. [Calls out.] After them, 
 after them. Earl Knut! Take vengeance for the slaugh- 
 ter at Laka! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 You heard it: he proclaimed my child an outlaw — 
 my innocent child, Norway's chosen king after mel 
 
 The King's Men. 
 Ay, ay, we heard it! 
 
 HAkon. 
 And what is the punishment for such a crime ? 
 
 The Men. 
 Death! 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Then must he die! [Raises his hand to make oath.] 
 Here I swear it: Skule Bardsson shall die, wherever he 
 be met on unconsecrated ground! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 'Tis every true man's duty to slay him. 
 
 A Birchleg. 
 [From the left.] Duke Skule has taken to flight! 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 335 
 
 The Townsfolk. 
 The Birchlegs have conquered! 
 
 HIkon. 
 What way? 
 
 The Birchleg. 
 
 Past Martestokke, up towards Eidsvold ; most of them 
 had horses waiting up in the streets, else had not one 
 escaped with his Ufe. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Thanks be to God that has helped us yet again! Now 
 may the Queen safely come ashore from the fleet. 
 
 Gkegobius Jonsson. 
 
 [Points off to the right.] She has already landed, my 
 lord; there she comes! » 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 [To those nearest him.] The heaviest task is yet be- 
 fore me; she is a loving daughter; — listen — no word to 
 her of the danger that threatens her child. Swear to 
 me, one and all, to keep ward over your King's son; but 
 let her know nothing. 
 
 The Men. 
 
 [S(^tly.] We swear it. 
 
 Mabghete. 
 
 [Enters', with ladies and attendants, from the right.] 
 Hakon, my husband! Heaven has shielded you! you 
 have conqueied and are unhurt! 
 
336 THE PRETENDERS [activ 
 
 HAkon. 
 Yes, I have conquered. Where is the child? 
 
 Maegkete. 
 On board the King's ship, in the hands of trusty meli. 
 
 HAkon. 
 Go more of you thither. [Some of the men go. 
 
 Marghete. 
 Hakon, where is — Duke Skule? 
 
 HAkon. 
 He has made for the Uplands. 
 
 Makgrete. 
 
 He lives, then! — My husband, may I thank God that 
 he lives? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 {In gainful agitation.] Hear me, Margrete: you have 
 been a faithful wife to me, you have followed me through 
 good hap and ill, you have been unspeakably rich in 
 love; — now must I cause you a heavy sorrow; I am 
 loath to do it; but I am King, therefore must I 
 
 Mahghete. 
 [In suspense.] Has it to do with — the Duke ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Yes. No bitterer lot could befall me than to live my 
 life far from you; but if you think it must be so after 
 
ACT IV] THE PRETENDERS 337 
 
 what I now tell you — if you feel that you can no longer 
 sit by my side, no longer look at me without turning pale 
 — well, we must even part — live each alone — and I shall 
 not blame you for it. 
 
 Marghete. 
 
 Part from you ! How can you think such a thought ? 
 Give me your hand ! 
 
 HAkon. 
 Touch it not! — It has even now been lifted in oath 
 
 Mahgbete. 
 In oath? 
 
 HIkon. 
 An oath that set its sacred seal upon a death-warrant. 
 
 Makghete. 
 
 [With a shriek.] My father! Oh, my father! 
 
 [Totters:' two women rush forward to support her. 
 
 HIkon. • 
 
 Yes, Margrete — his King has doomed your father to 
 death. 
 
 Margkete. 
 
 Then well I know he has committed a greater crime 
 than when he took the kingly title. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 That has he;— and now, if you feel that we must part, 
 so let it be. 
 
338 THE PRETENDERS [act iv 
 
 Makgrete. 
 
 [Coming close to him, firmly. '\ We can never part ! 
 I am your wife, nought else in the world but your wife! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Are you strong enough ? Did you hear and under- 
 stand all ? I have dgomed your father. 
 
 Makqbete. 
 
 I heard and understood. You have doomed my 
 father. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 And you ask not to know what was his crime? 
 
 Maegbete. 
 'Tis enough that you know it. 
 
 HAkon. 
 But it was to death that I doomed him! 
 
 Margkete. 
 
 [Ktwels before the King, and kisses his hifnd.] My 
 husband and noble lord, your doom is just! 
 
ACT FIFTH 
 
 A room in the palace at Nidaros. The entrance door is 
 on the right; in front, on the same side, a window; 
 to the left a smaller door. It is after night-fall. 
 Paul Flida, BAbd Bkatte, and several of King 
 Skule's principal followers are standing at the win- 
 dow and looking upward. 
 
 A Man-at-Arms. 
 How red it glows! 
 
 A Second. 
 It stretches over half the sky, Hke a flaming sword. 
 
 BIrd Bratte. 
 Holy King Olaf, what bodes such a sign of dread? 
 
 An Old VIrb^lg. 
 Assuredly it bodes a great chief's death. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Hakon's death, my good Varbaelgs. He is lying out 
 in the fiord with his fleet; we may look for him in the 
 town to-night. This time, 'tis our turn to conquer! 
 
 BAbd Bratte. 
 
 Trust not to that; there is little heart in the host now. 
 
 839 
 
S40 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 The Old VAkb^elg. 
 
 And reason enough, in sooth; ever since the flight 
 from Oslo has King Skule shiit himself in, and will 
 neither see nor speak with his men. 
 
 The Fiest Man-at-Ahms. 
 
 There are those in the town who know not whether 
 to believe him alive or dead. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 The King must out, however sick he may be. Speak 
 to him, Bard Bratte — the safety of all is at stake. 
 
 BIbd Bbatte. 
 It avails not; I have spoken to him already. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Then must I try what I can do. [Goes to the door on 
 the lefti and knocks.] My lord King, you must take the 
 helm in your own hands; things can no longer go on in 
 this fashion. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Within.] I am sick, Paul Flida. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 What else can you look for ? You have eaten nought 
 these two days; you must nourish and strengthen you 
 
 King- Skule. 
 I am sick. 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 341 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 By the Almighty, 'tis no time for sickness. King 
 Hakon lies out in the fiord, and may at any time be upon 
 us here in Nidaros. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Strike him down for me! Slay him and the King- 
 child. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 You must be with us, my lord! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 No, no, no, — you are surest of fortune and victory 
 when I am not there. 
 
 Peter^ 
 
 [Enters from the right; he is in armour.] The towns- 
 folk are ill at ease; they flock together in great masses 
 before the palace. 
 
 BArd Bbatte. 
 
 Unless the King speak to them, they will desert him 
 in the hour of need. 
 
 Petek. 
 
 Then must he speak to them. [At the door on the 
 left.] Father! The Tronders, your trustiest subjects, 
 will fall away from you if you give them not courage. 
 
 King Skule. 
 What said the skald ? 
 
342 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 Peter. 
 The skald ? 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 The skald who died for my sake at Oslo. A man can- 
 not give what he himself does not possess, he said. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Then neither can you give away the kingdom; for it 
 is mine after you! 
 
 King Skule. 
 Now I will come! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 God be praised. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Comes forward in the doorway; he. is pale and haggard; 
 his hair has grown very grey.] You shall not look at me ! 
 I will not have you look at me now that I am sick ! [Goes 
 up to Peter.] Take from you the kingdom, you say? 
 Great God in heaven, what was I about to do! 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Oh, forgive me; — I know that what you do is ever 
 the right. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 No, no, not hitherto; but now I will be strong and 
 sound — I will act! 
 
 Loud Shouts. 
 [Without, on the right.] King Skule! King Skule! 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 343 
 
 King Skule. 
 What is that ? 
 
 BArd Bhatte. 
 
 ■ [At the window.] The townsmen are flocking to- 
 gether; the whole courtyard is full of people; — you must 
 speak to them. 
 
 King Skttle. 
 Do I look like a king? Can I speak now? 
 
 Petek. 
 You must, my noble father! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Well, be it so. [Goes to the window and draws the 
 curtain aside.^ but lets it go quickly and starts, back in 
 terror.] There hangs the flamipg sword over me again! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 It bodes that the sword of victory is drawn for you. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Ah, were it but so ! [Goes to the window and speaks out.] 
 Tronders, what would you ? Here stands your King. 
 
 A Townsman. 
 
 [Without.] Leave the town ! This Birchlegs will burn 
 and slay if they find you here. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 We must all hold together. I have been a gracious 
 King to you; I have craved but small war-tax 
 
344 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 A Man's Voice. 
 
 [Down in the crowd.] What call you all the blood, 
 then, that flowed at Laka and Oslo? 
 
 A Woman. 
 Give me my betrothed again! 
 
 A Boy. 
 Give me my father and my brother! 
 
 Another Woman. 
 Give me my three sons, King Skule! 
 
 A Man. 
 
 He is no King; homage has not been done him on 
 St. Olaf's shrine! 
 
 Many Voices. 
 
 No, no — no homage has been done him on St. Olaf's 
 shrine! He is no King! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Shrinks behind the curtain.] No homage ! No 
 
 king! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 'Twas a dire mischance that the shrine was not 
 brought forth when you were chosen. 
 
 BArd Bratte. 
 
 Should the townsfolk desert us, we cannot hold Nida- 
 ros if the Birchlegs come. 
 
ACTVJ THE PRETENDERS 345 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 And they will desert us, so long as homage has not 
 been done to me on the Saint's shrine. 
 
 Peteh. 
 
 Then let the shrine be brought forth, and take our 
 homage now! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 [Shaking his head.] How should that be possible ? 
 
 Peteb. 
 
 Is aught impossible, where h e is concerned ? Sound 
 the call for the folkmote, and bring forth the shrine! 
 
 Several of the Men. 
 [Shrinking back.] Sacrilege! 
 
 Peter. 
 
 No sacrilege! — Come, come! The monks are well 
 disposed towards King Skule; they will agree 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 That they will not; they dare not, for the Archbishop. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Are you King's men, and will not lend your aid when 
 so great a cause is at stake ! Good, there are others be- 
 low of better will. My father and King, the monks 
 shall give way; I will pray, I will beseech; sound 
 
346 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 the summons for the folkmote; you shall bear your 
 kingship rightfully. [Rushes out to the right. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Beaming with joy.] Saw you him! Saw you my 
 gallant son ! How his eyes shone ! Yes, we will all fight 
 and conquer. How strong are the Birchlegs ? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Not stronger than that we may master them, if but 
 the townsfolk hold to us! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 They shall hold to us. We must all be at one now 
 and put an end to this time of dread. See you not that 
 'tis Heaven's command that we should end it ? Heaven 
 is wroth with all Norway for the deeds that have so long 
 been doing. A flaming sword glows night by night in 
 the sky; women swoon and bear children in the churches; 
 a frenzy creeps abroad among priests and monks, caus- 
 ing them to run through the streets and proclaim that 
 the last day is come. Ay, by the Almighty, this shall 
 be ended at one stroke! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 What are your commands ? 
 
 King Skule. 
 All the bridges shall be broken down! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Go, and let all the bridges be broken. 
 
 [One of the Men'ot-arms goes out to the right. 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 347 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Gather all our men upon the foreshore; not one Birch- 
 leg shall set foot in Nidaros. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Well spoken. King. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 , When the shrine is bqrne forth, let the horn sound to 
 the folkmote. The host and the townsfolk shall be called 
 together. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [ To one of the men.] Go forth and bid the hornblower 
 wind his horn in all the streets. [The man goes. 
 
 King Skjjle.' 
 
 [Addresses the people from the window.] Hold fast to 
 me, all my sorrowing people. There shall come peace 
 and light over the land once more, as in Hakon's first 
 glad days, when the fields yielded two harvests every 
 summer. Hold fast to me; believe in me and trust to 
 iae; 'tis that I need so unspeakably. I will watch over 
 you and fight for you; I will bleed and die for you, if 
 
 need be; but fail me not, and doubt not ! [Lovd 
 
 cries, as though of terror, are heard among the people.] 
 What is that ? 
 
 A Wild Voice. 
 Atone! Atone! 
 
 BIrd Bratte. 
 [Looks out.] 'Tis a priest possessed of the devil! 
 
348 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 He is tearing his cowl to shreds and scourging himself 
 with a whip. 
 
 The Voice. 
 
 Atone, atone! The last day is come. 
 
 Many Voices. 
 Flee, flee! Woe upon Nidaros! A deed of sin! 
 
 King Skule. 
 What has befallen ? 
 
 BIbd Beatte. 
 
 All flee, all shrink away as though a wild beast were 
 in their midst. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Yes, all flee. [With a cry of joy.] Ha! it matters 
 not. We are saved ! See, see — King Olaf 's shrine stands 
 in the middle of the courtyard. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 King Olaf's shrine! 
 
 BAhd Bratte. 
 Ay, by Heaven — ^there it stands! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 The monks are true to me; so good a deed have they 
 never done before! 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 349 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Hark! the call to the folkmote! 
 
 King Skule. 
 Now shall lawful homage be done to me. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 [Enters from the right.] Take on you the kingly 
 mantle; now stands the shrine out yonder. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Then you have saved the kingdom for me and for 
 yourself; and tenfold will we thank the pious monks 
 for yielding. 
 
 Peteb. 
 
 The monks, father — you have nought to thank them 
 for. 
 
 King Skule. 
 'Twas not they that helped you ? 
 
 Petek. 
 
 They laid the ban of the Church on whoever should 
 dare to touch the holy thing. 
 
 King Skule. 
 The Archbishop then ! At last he gives way. 
 
 Peter 
 
 The Archbishop hurled forth direr curses than the 
 monks. 
 
350 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Ah, then I see that I still have trusty men. You here, 
 who should have been the first to serve me, stood terrified 
 and shrank back — but down in the crowd have I friends 
 who for itiy sake fear not to take so great a sin upon their 
 souls. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 You have not one trusty man who dared to take 
 
 the sin upon him. 
 
 I 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Almighty God! has then a miracle come to pass? 
 Who bore out the holy thing ? 
 
 Peter. 
 I, my father! 
 
 King Skule. 
 [With a shriek.] You! 
 
 The Men. 
 
 [Shrink back appalled.] Church-robber! 
 
 [Paul Flida, BArd Bratte, cmd one or two others 
 go out. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 The deed had to be done. No man's faith is sure ere 
 homage be lawfully done to you. I begged, I besought 
 the monks; it availed not. Then I broke open the 
 church door; none dared to follow me. I sprang up to 
 the high altar, gripped the handle, and pressed hard with 
 my knees; 'twas as though an unseen power gave me 
 more than human strength. The shrine came loose, I 
 
AWv] THE PRET£NbM§ Ssl 
 
 dragged it after me down the nave, while the ban moaned 
 like a storm high up under the vaultings. I dragged it 
 out of the church; all fled and shrank from me. When 
 I came to the middle of the courtyard the handle broke; 
 here it is! [Holds it aloft. 
 
 King Skule. 
 \Quietly, appalled.] Church-robber. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 For your sake; for the sake of your great king's- 
 thought! You will wipe out the sin; all that is evil you 
 will wipe away. Light and peace will follow you; a 
 glorious day will dawn over the land — what matter, 
 then, if there went a storm-night before it ? 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 There was as 'twere a halo round your head when your 
 mother brought you to me; now I see in its stead the 
 lightnings of the ban. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Father, father, think not of me; be not afraid for my 
 woe or weal. Is it not your will I have fulfilled ? — how 
 can it be accounted to me for a crime ? 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 I hungered for your faith in me, and your faith has 
 turned to sin. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 [Wildly.] For your sake, for your sake! Therefore 
 God dare not deny to blot it out! 
 
352 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 "Pure and blameless," I swore to Ingeborg — and he 
 scoffs at heaven! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 [Entering.] All is in uproar! The impious deed has 
 struck terror to your men ; they flee into the churches. 
 
 King Skule. 
 They shall out; they must out! 
 
 BAbd Bbatte. 
 
 [Entering.] The townsfolk have risen against you; 
 they are slaying the Varbselgs wherever they find them, 
 on the streets or in the houses! 
 
 A Man-at-Akms. 
 [Entering.] The Birchlegs are sailing up the river! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Summon all my men together! None must fail me 
 here! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 They will not come; they are benumbed with dread. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Despairingly.] But I cannot fall now ! My son 
 must not die with a deadly sin upon his soul! 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Think not of me; 'tis you alone that are to be thought of. 
 Let us make for Indherred; there all men are true to you! 
 
AeTv] THE PRETENDERS 353 
 
 King Skule. 
 Ay, to flight! Follow me, whoso would save his life! 
 
 BArd Bkatte. 
 What way ? 
 
 King Skule. 
 Over the bridge! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 All bridges are broken down, my lord. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Broken down ! All the bridges broken, say you? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Had you broken them down at Oslo, you might have 
 let them stand at Nidaros. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 We must over the river none the less ; — we have, our 
 lives and our souls to save! To flight! To flight! 
 
 [He and Peter rush out to the left. 
 
 BArd Bratte. 
 
 Ay, better so than to fall at the hands of the townfolk 
 and the Birchlegs. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 In God's name, then, to flight! [All follow Skule. 
 
 The room stands empty for a short time.; a distant and 
 confused noise is heard from, the streets; then a troop 
 of armed townsmen rushes in by the door on the right. 
 
354 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 A Townsman. 
 Here! He must be here! 
 
 Another. 
 Slay him! 
 
 Many. 
 
 Slay the church-robber too! 
 
 • A Single One. 
 Go carefully! They may yet bite! 
 
 The Fibst Townsman. 
 
 No need; the Birchlegs are already coming up the 
 street. 
 
 A Townsman. 
 
 [Entering.] Too late — King Skule has fled! 
 
 Many. 
 Whither ? Whither ? 
 
 The New-comeb. 
 
 Into one of the churches, methinks; they are full of the 
 Varbaelgs. 
 
 The FihsT Townsman. 
 
 Then let us seek for him; great thanks and reward 
 will King Hakon give to the man who slays Skule. 
 
 Another. 
 Here come the Birchlegs. 
 
ACTV] THE PRETENDERS 355 
 
 A Thibd. 
 King Hakon himself! 
 
 Many of the Crowd. 
 [Shout.] Hail to King Hakon Hakonsson! 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Enters from the right,followed by Gkegorius Jonsson, 
 Dagfinn the Peasant, and many others.] Ay, now are 
 you humble, you Tronders; you have stood against me 
 long enough. 
 
 The First Townsman. 
 
 [Kneeling.] Mercy, my lord! Skule Bardsson bore 
 so hardly on us! 
 
 Another. 
 
 [Also kneeling.] He compeUed us, else had we never 
 followed him. 
 
 The First. 
 
 He seized our goods and forced us to fight for his 
 unrighteous cause. 
 
 The Second. 
 
 Alas, noble lord, he has been a scourge to his friends 
 no less than to his foes. 
 
 Many Voices. 
 
 Ay, ay, — Skule Bardsson has been a scourge to the 
 whole land. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 That, at least, is true enough. 
 
356 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 Hakon. 
 
 Good; with you townsfolk I will speak later; 'tis my 
 purpose to punish sternly all transgressions; but first 
 there are other things to be thought of. Knows any 
 man where Skule Bardsson is? 
 
 Many. 
 In one of the churches, lord! 
 
 HIkon. 
 Know you that for certain ? 
 
 The Townsmen. 
 Ay, there are all the Varbselgs. 
 
 Hakon. 
 
 [Softly to Dagfinn.] He must be found; set a watch 
 on all the churches in the town. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 And when he is found, he must straightway be slain. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Softly.] Slain ? Dagfinn, Dagfinn, how heavy a deed 
 it seems! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 My lord, you swore it solemnly at Oslo. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 And all men in the land will call for his death. [Turns 
 to Geegorius Jonsson and says, unheard by the others] 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 357 
 
 Go ; you were once his friend ; seek him out and prevail 
 on him to fly the land. 
 
 Gregoeius. 
 [Joyfully.] You will suffer it, my lord! 
 
 HAkon. 
 For the sake of my gentle, well-beloved wife. 
 
 Geegorius Jonsson. 
 But if he should not flee ? If he will not or cannot ? 
 
 HIkon. 
 
 Then, in God's name, I may not spare him; then must 
 my kingly word be fulfilled. Go! 
 
 GREGOEitrs Jonsson. 
 
 I go, and shall do my utmost. Heaven grant I may 
 succeed. [Goes out by the right. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 You, Dagfinn, go with trusty men down to the King's 
 ship; you shall conduct the Queen and her child up to 
 Elgesseter' convent. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 My lord, think you she will be safe there ? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Nowhere safer. The Varbaelgs have shut themselves 
 up in the churches, and she has besought to be sent 
 thither; her mother is at Elgesaeter. 
 » Sjes«Bfer=Elk-ch41et. 
 
358 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Ay, ay, that I know. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 Greet the Queen most lovingly from me; and greet 
 Lady Ragnhild also. You may tell them that so soon as 
 the Varbaelgs shall have made submission and been 
 taken to grace, all the bells in Nidaros shall be rung, for 
 a sign that there has come peace in the land once more. — 
 You townsfolk shall reckon with me to-morrow, and 
 punishment shall be meted to each according to his mis- 
 deeds. [Goes with Ms men. 
 
 The First Townsman. 
 Woe upon us to-morrow! 
 
 The Second. 
 We have a long reckoning to pay. 
 
 The First. 
 
 We, who have stood against Hakon so long — who bore 
 our part in acclaiming Skule when he took the kingly 
 title. 
 
 The Second. 
 
 Who gave Skule both ships and war-tribute — who 
 bought all the goods he seized from Hakon's thanes. 
 
 The First. 
 Ay, woe upon us to-morrow! 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 359 
 
 A Townsman. 
 
 [Rushes in from the left.] Where is Hakon ? Where 
 is the King ? 
 
 The First. 
 What would you with him ? 
 
 The New-comer. 
 Bring him great and weighty tidings. 
 
 Many. 
 
 What tidings ? 
 
 The New-comer. 
 I tell them to no other than the King himself. 
 
 Many. 
 Ay, tell us, tell us! 
 
 The New-comer. 
 Skule Bardsson is fleeing up toward Elgesaeter. 
 
 The First. 
 It cannot be! He is in one oi, the churches. 
 
 The New-6omer. 
 No, no ; he ^.nd his son crossed over the river in a skiff. 
 
 The First. 
 Ha, then we can save us from Hakon's wrath! 
 
 The Second. 
 Ay, let us forthwith give him to know where Skule is. 
 
360 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 The First. 
 
 Nay, better than that; we will say nought, but our- 
 selves go up to Elgesseter and slay Skule. 
 
 The Second. 
 Ay, ay — that will we! 
 
 A Third. 
 
 But did not many Varbselgs go with him over the 
 river ? 
 
 The New-comer. 
 
 No, there were but few men in the boat. 
 
 The First. 
 
 We will arm us as best we can. Oh, now are we towns- 
 folk safe enough ! Let no man know what we are about ; 
 we are enough for the task ! — And now, away to Elgesseter. 
 
 All. 
 
 [Softly.] Ay, away to Elgesseter! 
 
 [They go out to the left, rapidly but cautiously. 
 
 A fir-wood on the hills above Nidaros. It is moonlight, 
 but the night is misty,, so that the background is seen 
 indistinctly, and sometimes scarcely at all. Tree- 
 stumps arid great boulders lie round about. King 
 Skule, Peter, Paul Flida, BArd Bratte, and 
 other yknujELGS come through the wood from the left. 
 
 Peter. 
 Come hither and rest you, my father. 
 
ACT V] THE PRETENDERS 361 
 
 King Skule. 
 Ay, let me rest, rest. [Sinks down beside a stone. 
 
 Petek. 
 How goes it with you ? 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 I am hungry! I am sick, sick! I see dead men's 
 shadows ! 
 
 Peter. 
 [Springing up.] Help here — bread for the King! 
 
 BIhd Bratte. 
 
 Here is every man king; for life is at stake. Stand 
 up, Skule Bardsson, if you be king' Lie not there to 
 rule the land. • 
 
 Peter. 
 If you scoff at my father, I will kill you. 
 
 BIrd Bratte. 
 
 I shall be killed whatever betides; for me King Hakon 
 will have no grace; for I was his thane, and deserted him 
 for Skule's sake. Think of somewhat that may save us. 
 No deed so desperate but I will risk it now. 
 
 A VArb^lg. 
 Could we but get over to the convent at Holm ? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Better to Elgesseter. 
 
362 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 BAbd Bbatte. 
 
 [With a svdden outburst.] Best of all to go down to 
 Hakon's ship and bear away the King-child. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Are you distraught ? 
 
 BAkd Bbatte. 
 
 No, no; 'tisour one hope, and easy enough to do. The 
 Birchlegs are ransacking every house, and keeping watch 
 on all the churches; they think none of us can have taken 
 flight, since all the bridges are broken. There can be 
 but few men on board the ships; when once we have his 
 heir in our power, Hakon must grant us peace, else will his 
 child die with us. Who will go with me to save our lives ? 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Not I, if they are to be saved in such wise. 
 
 Sevebal. 
 Not I! Not I! 
 
 Peteb. 
 
 Ha, but if it were to save my father ! 
 
 BAbd Bbatte. 
 
 If you will go with me, come. First I go down to 
 Hladehammer; there lies the troop we met at the bottom 
 of the hill; they are the wildest daredevils of all the 
 Varbselgs; they had swum the river, knowing that they 
 would find no grace in the churches. They are the lads for 
 a raid on the King's ship ! Which of you will follow me ? 
 
 Some. 
 I! I! 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 363 
 
 Petek. 
 
 Mayhap I too; but first must I see my father into safe 
 shelter. 
 
 BArd Bbatte. 
 
 Ere daybreak will we make speed up the river. Coine, 
 here goes a short way downwards towards Hlade. 
 
 [He and some others go out to the right. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 [To Paul Flida.] Let not my father know aught of 
 this; he is soul-sick to-night, we must act for him. 
 There is safety in Bard Bratte's deed ; ere daybreak shall 
 the King-child be in our hands. 
 
 Paul Flida. ' 
 To be slain, most like. See you not that it is a sin 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Nay, it cannot be a sin ; for my father doomed the child 
 in Oslo. Sooner or later it must die, for it blocks my 
 father's path; — my father has a great king's-thought to 
 carry through; it matters not who or how many fall for 
 its sake. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 
 Hapless for you was the day you came to know that 
 you were King Skule's son. [Listening.] Hist! — cast 
 you flat to the ground; there come people this way. 
 
 [All throw themselves down behind stones and stumps; 
 a troop of people, some riding, some on foot, can he 
 seen indistinctly through the mist and between the 
 trees; they come from the left, and pass on to the 
 right. 
 
364 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 Peter. 
 'Tis the Queen! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Ay; she is talking with Dagfinn the Peasant. Hush! 
 
 Petek. 
 
 They are making for Elgesaeter. The King-child is 
 with them! 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 And the Queen's ladies. 
 
 Peteh. 
 
 But only-four men! Up, up, King Skule — now is your 
 kingdom saved! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 My kingdom? 'Tis dark, my kingdom — like the 
 angel's that rose against God. 
 
 A party of Monks comes from the right. 
 
 A Monk. 
 Who speaks there? Is it King Skule's men. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 King Skule himself. 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 [To Skule.] God be praised that we met you, dear 
 lord! Some townsmen gave us to know that you had 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 365 
 
 taken the upward path, and we are, no less unsafe than 
 you in Nidaros. 
 
 Petek. 
 
 You have deserved death, you who denied to give 
 forth St. Olaf's shrine. 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 The Archbishop forbade it; but none the less we would 
 fain serve King Skule; we have ever held to him. See, 
 we have brought with us robes of our Order for you and 
 your men; put them on, and then can you easily make 
 your way into one convent or another, and can seek to 
 gain grace of Hakon. 
 
 King Skui,e. 
 
 Ay, let me put on the robe; my son and I must stand 
 on consecrated ground. I will to Elgesaeter. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 [Softly, to Paul Flida.] See that my father comes 
 safely thither. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Bethink you that there are Birchlegs at Elgesseter. 
 
 Peteb. 
 
 But four men; you may easily deal with them, and once 
 inside the convent walls they will not dare to touch you. 
 I will seek BAkd Bbatte. 
 
 Paul Flida. 
 Nay, do not so! 
 
B66 • THE PRETENDERS tAC* V 
 
 Peteh. 
 
 Not on the King's ship, but at Elgesaeter, must the out- 
 laws save the kingdom for my father. 
 
 \Goes quickly out to the right. 
 
 A VArbjElg. 
 
 [Whispering to another.] Go y o u to Elgesaeter with 
 Skule? 
 
 The Otheh. 
 
 Hist; no; the Birchlegs are there! 
 
 The First. 
 Neither will I go; but say nought to the rest. 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 And now away, two and two, — one spearman and one 
 monk. 
 
 Another Monk. 
 
 [Sitting on a stump behind the rest.} I will guide King 
 Skule. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Know you the way ? 
 
 The Monk. 
 The broad way. 
 
 The First Monk. 
 
 Haste you; let us take different paths, and meet out- 
 side the convent gate. 
 
 [ They go out among the trees, to the right; the fog 
 lifts and the comet shows itself, red and glowing, 
 through the hazy air. 
 
ACT V] THE PRETENDERS 367 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Peter, my son ^! [Starts backwards.] Ha, there is 
 
 the flaming sword in heaven! 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 [Sitting behind him on the stump.] And here am I! 
 
 King Skule- 
 Who are you ? 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 An old acquaintance. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Paler man have I never seen. 
 
 The Monk. 
 But you know me not? ^ 
 
 King Skule. 
 'Tis you that are to lead me to Elgesseter. 
 
 The Monk. 
 'Tis I that will lead you to the throne. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Can you do that ? 
 
 The Monk. 
 I can, if you but will it. 
 
 King Skule. 
 And by what means ? 
 
368 . THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 By the means I have used before;— I will take you up 
 into a high mountain and show you all the glory of the 
 world. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 All the glory of the world have I seen ere now, in dreams 
 of temptation. 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 'Twas I that gave you those dreams. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Who are you ? 
 
 The Monk. 
 An envoy from the oldest Pretender in the world. 
 
 King Skule. 
 From the oldest Pretender in the world ? 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 From the first Earl, who rose against the greatest king- 
 dom, and himself founded a kingdom that shall endure 
 beyond doomsday. 
 
 King Skule. 
 [Shrieks.] Bishop Nicholas! 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 [Rising.] Do you know me now ? We were friends of 
 
 yore, 
 And 'tis you that have brought me back; 
 Once the self-same galley our fortunes bore. 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 369 
 
 And we sailed on the self-same tack. 
 At our parting I quailed, in the gloom and the blast; 
 For a hawk in his talons had gripped my soul fast; 
 I besought them to chant and to ply the bell, 
 And I bought me masses and prayers as well, — 
 They read fourteen, though I'd paid but for seven; 
 Yet they brought me no nearer the gates of heaven. 
 
 ' ■ King Skule. 
 And you come from down ybnder F 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 Yes, from the kingdom down yonder I'm faring; 
 
 The kingdom m^ always so much miscall. 
 
 I vow 'tis in nowise so bad after all, 
 
 And the heat, to my thinking, is never past bearing. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 And it seems you have learnt skald-craft, old Bagler- 
 chieftain ! 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 Not only skald-craft, but store of Latinity! 
 Once my Latin was not over strong, you know; 
 Now few can beat it for ease and flow. 
 To take any station in yonder vicinity, 
 Ay, even to pass at the gate, for credential 
 A knowledge of Latin is well-nigh essential. 
 You can't but make progress with so many able 
 And learned companions each day at the table, — 
 Full fifty ex-popes by my side carouse, and 
 Five hundred cardinals, skalds seven thousand. 
 
370 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Greet your Master and give him my thanks for his 
 friendship. Tell him he is the only king who sends help 
 to Skule the First of Norway. 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 Hear now, King Skule, what brings me to you — 
 My Master's henchmen down there are legion. 
 And each up here is allotted a region; 
 They gave Norway to m^e, as the place I best knew. 
 H&kon Hakonsson serves not my Master's will; 
 We hate him, for he is our foeman still — 
 So he must fall, leaving you at the helm. 
 The sole possessor of crown and realm. 
 
 King Skule 1 
 
 Ay, give me the crown ! When once I have that, I will 
 rule so as to buy myself free again. 
 
 The Monk. 
 Ay, that we can always talk of later 
 
 We must seize the time if we'd win the fight. 
 
 King Hakon's child sleeps at Elgesaeter; 
 
 Could you once wrap him in the web of night. 
 
 Then like storm-swept motes will your foes fly routed. 
 
 Then your victory's sure and your kingship undoubted! 
 
 King Skule. 
 Think you so surely that the victory were mine ? 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 All men in Norway are sighing for rest; 
 
 The king with an heir* is the king they love best — 
 
 ' Et kongs-emne. 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 371 
 
 A son to succeed to the throne without wrangling; 
 
 For the people are tired of this hundred-years' jangling. 
 
 Rouse you. King Skule! one great endeavour! 
 
 The foe must perish to-night or never! 
 
 See, to the northward how light it has grown, 
 
 See how the fog lifts o'er fiord and o'er valley — 
 
 There gather noiselessly galley on galley — 
 
 Hark! men are marching, with rumble and drone! 
 
 One word of promise, and all is your own — 
 
 Hundreds of glittering sails on the water. 
 
 Thousands of warriors hurtling to slaughter. 
 
 King Skule. 
 What word would you have? 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 For raising you highest, my one condition 
 Is just that you follow your heaiii's ambition; 
 All Norway is yours, to the kitigship I'll speed you. 
 If only you vow that your son shall succeed you! 
 
 King Skule. 
 [Raising his hand as if for an oath.^ My son shall 
 
 [Stofs suddenly, and breaks forth in terror.] The church- 
 robber! All the might to him! Ha! now I under- 
 stand; — ^you seek for his soul's perdition! Get thee 
 behind me, get thee behind me ! [Stretches out his arms 
 to heaven.] Oh have mercy on me, thou to whom I now 
 call for help in my sorest need! 
 
 [He falls prone to the, earth. 
 
 The Monk. 
 
 Accursed ! He's slipped through my fingers at last — 
 And I thought of a surety I held him so fast! 
 
372 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 But the Light, it seems, had a trick in store 
 That I knew not of — and the game is o'er. 
 Well, well; what matters a little delay? 
 Perpetuum mobile's well under way; 
 My might is assured through the years and the ages, 
 The haters of light shall be still in my wages; 
 In Norway my empire for ever is founded, 
 Though it be to my subjects a riddle unsounded. 
 
 [Coming forward. 
 While to their life-work Norsemen set out 
 Will-lessly wavering, daunted with doubt. 
 While hearts are shrunken, minds helplessly shivering. 
 Weak as a willow-wand wind-swept and quivering, — 
 While about one thing alone they're united. 
 Namely, that greatness be stoned and despited, — 
 When they seek honour in fleeing and falling 
 Under the banner of baseness unfurled, — 
 Then Bishop Nicholas 'tends to his calling. 
 The Bagler-Bishop's at work in the world! 
 
 [He disappears in the fog among the trees. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [After a short pause, half rises and looks around.] 
 Where is he, my black comrade? [Springs , up.] My 
 guide, my guide, where are you? Gone! — No matter; 
 now I myself know the way, both to Elgesseter and 
 beyond. [Goes out to the right. 
 
 The courtyard of Elgeswter Convent. To the left lies the 
 chapel, with an entrance from the courtyard; the 
 windows are lighted up. Along the opposite side 
 of the space stretch some lower buildings; in the back, 
 the convent wall with a strong gate, which is locked. 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 373 
 
 It is a clear moonlight night. Three Birchleg Chiefs 
 stand by the gate; Maegbete, Lady Ragnhild, a^id 
 Dagfinn the Peasant come out from the chdfel.^ 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [Half to herself. '\ King Skule had to flee into the 
 church, you say! He, he, a fugitive! begging at the 
 altar fot peace — begging for his life mayhap — oh no, 
 no, that could never be; but God will punish you who 
 dared to let it come to this! 
 
 Mabgrete. 
 
 My dear, dear mother, curb yourself; you know not 
 what you say; 'tis your grief that speaks. 
 
 Ladt Ragnhild. 
 
 Hear me, ve Birchlegs! 'Tis Hakon Hakonsson that 
 should lie before the altar, and beseech King Skule for 
 life and peace. 
 
 A BlECHLEG. 
 
 It ill beseems loyal men to listen to such words. 
 
 Mabgbete. 
 Bow your heads before a wife's sorrow! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 King Skule doomed! Look to yourselves, look to 
 yourselves all of you, when he regains his power. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 That will never be, Lady Ragnhild. 
 
S74 THE PRETENDERS [actv 
 
 Mabgbete. 
 Hush, hush! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 Think you Hakon Hakonsson dare let his doom be 
 fulfilled if the King should fall into his hands? 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 King Hakon himself best knows whether a king's oath 
 can be broken. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [To Maegrete.] And this man of blood have you 
 followed in faith and love ! Are you your father's 
 child ? May the wrath of heaven—^ — ! Go from me, 
 go from me! 
 
 Mahgrete. 
 Blessed be your lips, although now they curse me. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 I must down to Nidaros and into the church to find 
 King Skule. He sent me from him when he sat victori- 
 ous on the throne; then, truly, he had no need of me — 
 now will he not be wroth if I come to him. Open the 
 gate for me; let me go to Nidaros! 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 My mother, for God's pity's sake ! 
 
 [A lovd knocking at the convent gate. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Who knocks? 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 375 
 
 Kino Skule. 
 [Without.] A king. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Skule Bardsson. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 King Skule. 
 
 Mabghete. 
 My father! 
 
 King Skule. 
 Open, open ! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 We open not here to outlaws. 
 
 King Sktjle. 
 
 'Tis a king who knocks, I tell you; a king who has no 
 roof over his bead; a king whose life is forfeit if he reach 
 not consecrated ground. 
 
 Mabghete. 
 Dagfinn, Dagfinn, 'tis my father. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [Goes to the gate and opens a small shutter.] Come 
 you with many men to the convent ? 
 
 King Skule. 
 With all the men that were true to me in my need 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 And how many be they? 
 
376 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 King Skule. 
 Fewer than one. 
 
 Makgrete. 
 
 He is alone, Dagfinn. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 Heaven's wrath fall upoH you if you deny him sanc- 
 tuary ! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 In God's name, then! 
 
 [He of&ns the gate; the Birchlegs respectfully un- 
 cover their heads. King SkvTjE enters, thfe court- 
 yard. 
 
 Mahgrete. 
 
 [Throwing herself on his neck.] My father! My dear, 
 unhappy father! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [Interposing I wildly between him and the Birchlegs.] 
 Ye who feign reverence for him, ye will betray him, like 
 Judas. Dare not to come near him! Ye shall not lay 
 a finger on him while I live! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 Here he is safe, for he is on holy ground. 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 And not one of all your men had the heart to 
 follow you this night! 
 
ACT VI THE PRETENDERS 377 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Both monks and spearmen brought me on the way; 
 but they slipped from' me one by one, for they knew there 
 were Birchlegs at Elgesaeter. Paul Flida was the last to 
 leave me; he came with me to the convent gate; there he 
 gave me his last hand-grip, in memory of the time when 
 there were Varbseigs in Norway. 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 [To the Birchlegs.] Get you in, chieftains, and set 
 you as guards about the King-child; I must to Nidaros 
 to acquaint the King that Skule Bardsson is at Elgesseter; 
 in so weighty a matter 'tis for him to act. 
 
 Margrete. 
 Oh, Dagfinn, Dagfinn, have you the heart for that ? 
 
 Dagfisjn. 
 
 Else should I ill serve King and land. [To the men.] 
 Lock the gates after me, watch over the child, and open 
 to none until the King be come. [Softly to Skule.] 
 Farewell, Skule Bardsson — and God grant you a blessed 
 end. 
 
 [Goes out by the gate; the Birchlegs close it after him, 
 and go into the chapel. 
 
 Lady Ragkhild. 
 
 Ay, let Hakon come; I will not loose you; I will hold 
 you straitly and tenderly in my arms, as I never held you 
 before. 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 Oh, how pale you; are— -and aged; you are cold. 
 
878 THE PRETENDERS Iact v 
 
 King Skule. 
 I am not cold — but I am w6ary, weary. 
 
 Margbete. 
 Come in then, and rest you 
 
 King Skule. 
 Yes, yes; 'twill soon be time to rest. 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 [From the chapel.] You come at last, my brother! 
 
 King Skttle. 
 Sigrid! you here? 
 
 SlGBID. 
 
 I promised that we should meet when you were fain of 
 me in your sorest need. 
 
 King Settle. 
 Where is your child, Margrete ? 
 
 Margrete. 
 He sleeps, in the sacristy. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Then is our whole house gathered at Elgesaeter to-night. 
 
 Sigrid. 
 Ay, gathered after straying long and far. 
 
ACT V] THE PRETENDERS 379 
 
 King Skule. 
 Hakon Hakonsson alone is wanting. 
 
 Maeghete and Lady Ragnhii^d. 
 
 [Cling about him, in an outburst of sorrow.] My 
 father! — My husband! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Looking at them, much moved."] Have you loved me 
 so deeply, you two? I sought after happiness abroad, 
 9,nd heeded not the home wherein I might have found it. 
 I pursued after love through sin and guilt, little dreaming 
 that 'twas mine already, in right of God's law and man's. 
 — And you, Ragnhild, my wife, you, against whom I have 
 sinned so deeply, you take me to your warm, soft heart 
 in the hour of my sorest need; you can tremble and be 
 afraid for the life of the man \^ho has never cast a ray of 
 sunshine upon your path. 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 Have you sinned ? Oh, Skule, speak not so ; think 
 you I should ever dare accuse you! From the first I 
 was too mean a mate for you, my noble husband; there 
 can rest no guilt on any deed of yours. 
 
 King Skule. 
 Have you believed in me so surely, Ragnhild? 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 From the first day I saw you. 
 
380 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [With animation.] When Hakon comes, I will beg 
 grace of him! You gentle, loving women, — oh, but it is 
 fair to live! 
 
 SiGHID. 
 
 [With an expression of terror.] Skule, my brother! 
 Woe to you if you stray from the path this night. 
 
 [A loud noise without; immediately afterwards, a 
 knocking at the gate. 
 
 Makghete. 
 Hark, hark! Who comes in such haste? 
 
 Lady Ragnhild 
 Who knocks at the gate ? 
 
 Voices. 
 
 [Without.] Townsfolk from Nidaros! Open! We 
 know that Skule Bardsson is within! 
 
 King Skule. 
 Ay, he is within; what would ye with him? 
 
 Noisy Voices. 
 
 [Without.] Come out, come out! Death to the evil 
 man! 
 
 Marghete. 
 
 You townsfolk dare to threaten that ? 
 
 A Single Voice. 
 King Hakon doomed him at Oslo. 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 381 
 
 Anotheh. 
 'Tis every man's duty to slay him! 
 
 Margeete. 
 I am the Queen; I command you to depart! 
 
 A Voice. 
 
 'Tis Skule Bardsson's daughter, and not the Queen, 
 that speaks thus. 
 
 Another. 
 
 You have no power over life and death; the King has 
 doomed him! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 Into the church, Skule! For God's mercy's sake, let 
 not the bloodthirsty caitiffs approach you! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Ay, into the church; I would not fall at the hands of 
 such as these. My wife, my daughter; meseems I have 
 found peace and light; dh, I cannot lose them again so 
 soon! [Moves towards the chapel. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 [Without, on the right.] My father, my king! Now 
 will you soon have the victory ! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [With a shriek.] He! He! 
 
 [Sinks down upon the church steps. 
 
382 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 Who is it ? 
 
 I A Townsman. 
 
 [Without.] See, see! the church-robber climbs over 
 the convent roof! 
 
 Others. 
 
 Stone him! Stone him! 
 
 Peteh. 
 
 [Appears on a roof to the right, and jumps down into 
 the yard.] Well met again, my father! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Looks at him aghast.] You — I had forgotten you- — — ! 
 Whence come you ? 
 
 Peter. 
 
 [Wildly.] Where is the King-child ? 
 
 Margrete. 
 The King-child! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Starts up.] Whence come you, I ask ? 
 
 Peter. 
 
 From Hladehammer; I have given Bard Bratte and 
 the Varbselgs to know that the King-child lies at Elge- 
 sseter to-night. 
 
 Margrete. 
 O God! 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 383 
 
 King Skule. 
 You have done that ! And now ? 
 
 • Peter. 
 
 He is gathering together his men, and they are hasting 
 up to the convent. — Where is the King-child, woman? 
 
 Makgeete. 
 
 [Who has placed herself before the church door.] He 
 sleeps in the sacristy! 
 
 Peteh. 
 
 'Twere the same if he slept on the altar! I have 
 dragged out St. Olaf 's shrine — I fear not to drag out the 
 King-child as well. 
 
 Lady Rasnhild. 
 [Calls to Skule J And he it is you have loved so deeply ! 
 
 Marghete. 
 
 Father, father! How could you forget us all for his 
 sake? 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 He was pure as a lamb of God when the penitent 
 woman gave him to me; — 'tis his faith in, me has made 
 him what he now is. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 [Without heeding him.] The child must out! Slay 
 it, slay it in the Queen's arms, — that was King Skule's 
 word in Oslo! 
 
384 THE PRETENDERS [Acry 
 
 Mahghete. 
 Oh shame, oh shame! 
 
 Peter. 
 
 4- saint might do it unsinning, at my father's command! 
 My father is King; for the great king's-thought is his' 
 
 Townsmen. 
 
 [Knocking at the gate.] Open! Come out, you and 
 the church-robber, else will we burn the convent dowi^. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [As if seized by a strong resolution.] The great king's- 
 thought ! 'Tis that has poisoned your young loving 
 soul! Pure and blameless I was to give you back; 'tis 
 faith in me that drives you thus wildly from crime to 
 crime, from deadly sin to deadly sin! Oh, but I can- 
 save you yet: I can save us all! [Calls toward the back- 
 ground.] Wait, wait, ye townsmen without there: I 
 come! 
 
 Mahgbete. 
 
 [Seizing his hand in terror.] My father! what would 
 you do.? 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 [Clinging to him with a shriek.] Skule! 
 
 SiGEID. 
 
 [Tears them away from him, and calls loiih wild, 
 radiant joy.] Loose him, loose him, women; — now his 
 thought puts forth wings! 
 
ACTV] THE PRETENDERS 385 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Firmly and forcibly, to Peteb.] You saw in me the 
 heaven-chosen one, — him who should do the great Mng's- 
 work in the land. Look at me better, misguicjed boy! 
 The rags of kingship I have decked myself withal, they 
 Vere borrowed and stolen — now I put them off m^, one 
 by one. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 [In dread.] My great, my noble father, speak not thus ! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 The king's-thought is Hakon's, not mine; to him alone 
 has the Lord granted the power that can act it out. 
 You have believed in a lie; turn from me, and save your 
 soul. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 [In a broken voice.] The ^sing's-thought is Hakon's! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 I yearned to be the greatest in the land. My God! my 
 God! behold, I abase myself before thee, and stand as 
 the least of all men. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Take me from the earth, O Lord! Punish me for all 
 my sin; but take me from the earth; for here am I 
 homeless now! [Sinks down upon the church steps. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 I had a frignd who bled for me at Oslo. He said: 
 A man can die for another's life-work; but if he is to go 
 
386 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 on living, he must live for his own. — I have no life-work 
 to live for, neither can I live for Hakon's, — but I can die 
 for it. 
 
 Makgkete. 
 
 Nay, nay, that shall you never do! 
 
 Kiko Skulb. 
 
 [Takes her hand, and looks at her tenderly.] Do you 
 \ov6 your husband, Margrete? 
 
 Margrete. 
 Better than the whole world. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 You could endure that he should doom me; but 
 could you also endure that he should let the doom be 
 fulfilled? 
 
 Margr]!;te. 
 
 Lord of heaven, give me strength! 
 
 King Skule. 
 Could you, Margrete? 
 
 Margrete. 
 
 [Softly and shuddering.] No, no — we should have to 
 part,— ^I could never see him more! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 You would darken the fairest light of his life and of 
 yours; — be iat peace, Margrete, — it shall not be needful. 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 387 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 Flee from the land, Skule; I will follow you whither- 
 soever you will. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Shaking his head.] With a mocking shade between 
 us ? — To-night have I found you for the first time; there 
 must fall no shade between me and you, my silent, faith- 
 ful wife; — therefore must we not seek to unite our lives 
 on this earth. 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 My kingly brother! I see you need me not; — I see 
 you know what path to take. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 There are men born to live, and men born to die. 
 My desire was ever thitheiwvard where God's finger 
 pointed not the way for me; therefore I never saw my 
 path clear, till now. My peaceful home-life have I 
 wrecked; I can never win it back again. My sins 
 against Hakon I can atone by freeing him from a kingly 
 duty which must have parted him from his dearest treas- 
 ure. The townsfolk stand without; I will not wait for 
 King Hikon! The Varbselgs are near; so long as I 
 live they will not swerve from their purpose; if they find 
 me here, I cannot save your child, Margrete. — See, look 
 upwards! See how it wanes and pales, the fiaming 
 sword that has hung over my head! Yes, yes, — God 
 has spoken and I have understood him, and his wrath 
 is appeased. Not in the sanctuary of Elgesseter will I 
 cast me down and beg for grace of an earthly king; — I 
 must into the mighty church roofed with the vault of 
 
388 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 stars and 'tis the King of Kings I must implore for grace 
 and mercy over all my life-work. 
 
 SiGBID. 
 
 Withstand him not! Withstand not the call of God! 
 The day dawns; it dawns in Norway and it dawns in 
 his restless soul! Have not we trembling women cow- 
 ered long enough in our secret rooms, terror-stricken 
 and hidden in the darkest corners, listening to all the 
 horror that was doing without, listening to the bloody 
 pageant that stalked over the land from end to end! 
 Have we not lain pale and stone-like in the churches, not 
 daring to look forth, even as Christ's disciples lay in 
 Jerusalem on the Great Good Friday when the Lord 
 was led by to Golgotha! Use thy wings, and woe to 
 them who would bind thee now! 
 
 Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 Fare forth in peace, my husband; fare thither where 
 no mocking shade shall stand between us, when we meet. 
 
 [Hastens into the chapel. 
 
 Margbete. 
 
 My father, farewell, farewell, — a thousand times 
 farewell! [Follows Lady Ragnhild. 
 
 SiGRID. 
 
 [Opens the church door and calls in.] To your knees, 
 all ye women! Assemble yourselves in prayer; send up 
 a message in song to the Lord, and tell him that now 
 Skule Bardsson comes penitent home from his rebellious 
 race on earth. 
 
ACTV] THE PRETENDERS 389 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Sigrid, my faithful sister, greet King Hakon from me; 
 tell him that even in my last hour I know not whether 
 he be king-born; but this I know of a surety: he it is 
 whom God has chosen. 
 
 Sigrid. 
 I will bear him your greeting. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 And yet another greeting must you be3,r. There 
 dwells a penitent woman in the north, in Halogaland; 
 tell her that her son has gone before; he went with me 
 when there was great danger for his soul. 
 
 SiGHID. 
 
 That will I. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Tell her, it was not with the heart he sinned; pure and 
 blameless shall she surely meet him again. 
 
 Sigrid. 
 
 That will I. [Points towards the background.] Hark! 
 they are breaking the lock! 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Points towards the chapel.] Hark! they »re singing 
 loud to God of salvation and peace' 
 
 Sigrid. 
 Hark again ! All the bells in Nidaros are ranging ! 
 
390 THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Smiles mournfully. '\ They are ringing a king to his 
 grave. 
 
 SiGEID. 
 
 Nay, nay, they ring for your true crowning! Farewell, 
 
 my brother, let the purple robe of blood flow wide over 
 
 your shoulders; under it may all sin be hidden. Go 
 
 forth, go into the great church and take the crown of life. 
 
 [Hastens into the chapel. Chanting and bell-ringing 
 
 continue during what follows. 
 
 Voices. 
 
 [Outside the gate.] The lock has burst! Force us 
 not to break the peace of the church! 
 
 King Skule. 
 I come. 
 
 The Townsmen. 
 And the church-robber must come too' 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 Ay, the church-robber shitll come too. [Goes over to 
 Peter.] My son, are you ready? 
 
 Petek. 
 Ay, father, I am ready. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 [Looks upwards.] O God, I am a poor man, I have 
 but my life to give; but take that, and keep watch over 
 Hikon's great king's-thought. — See now, give me your 
 hand. 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 391 
 
 Peter. 
 Here is my hand, father. 
 
 King Skule. 
 And fear not for that which is noW to come. 
 
 Peter. 
 Nay, father, I fear not, when I go with you. 
 
 King Skule. 
 
 A safer way have we two never trodden together. 
 [He opens the gate; the Townsmen stand without with 
 upraised weapons.] Here are we; we come of our own 
 free will; — but strike him not in the face. 
 
 [They pass out, hand in hand; the gate glides to. 
 
 A Voice. 
 Aim not, spare not; — strike them where ye can. 
 
 King Skule's Voice. 
 
 'Tis base to deal thus with chieftains. 
 
 [A short noise of weapons; then a heavy fall is heard; 
 all is still for a moment. 
 
 A Voice.- 
 
 They are dead, both of them! 
 
 [The King's horn sounds 
 
 Another Voice. 
 There comes King Hakon with all his guard! 
 
THE PRETENDERS [act v 
 
 The Crowd. 
 
 Hail Hakon Hakonsson; now have you no longer any 
 foemen. 
 
 Gkegobius Jonsson. 
 
 / « 
 
 [Stops a little before the corpses.] So I have come too 
 late I [Enters the convent yard. 
 
 t 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 It had been ill for Norway had you come sooner. 
 [Calls out.] In here. King Hakon! 
 
 HAkon. 
 [Stopping.] The body lies in my way! 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 
 If Hakon Hakonsson would go forward, he must pass 
 over Skule Bardsson's body! 
 
 HAkon. 
 In God's name then! 
 
 [Steps over the corpse and comes in. 
 
 Dagfinn^ 
 
 At last you can set about your king's-work with free 
 hands. In there are those you love; in Nidaros they are, 
 ringing in peace in the land; and yonder he lies who was 
 your direst foe. 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 All men misjudged him, reading not his secret. 
 
ACTv] THE PRETENDERS 393 
 
 Dagfinn. 
 His secret? 
 
 HAkon. 
 
 [Seizes him by the arm, and says softly.] Skule Bards- 
 son was God's step-child on earth; that was the secret. 
 i'i«? [The song of the women is heard more loudly from 
 the chapel; all the bells are still ringing in Nidaros.. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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