;
;
THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OE CALIFORNIA
RIVERSIDE
THE WORKS OF
HENRIK IBSEN
THE VIKING EDITION
VOLUME
I
pT
Ctipi/rit/hf Jiff, by Jfiis Gudo
HENRIK IBSEN
LADY INGER OF OSTRAT
THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG
LOVE'S COMEDY
WITH INTRODUCTIONS BY
WILLIAM ARCHER
AND
C. H. HERFORD, Litt.D., M.A.
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1911
Copyright, 1911, by Charles Scribner's Sons
CONTENTS
PAGE
GENERAL PREFACE vii
INTRODUCTION TO " LADY INGER OF OSTrIt" . . 3
"lady INGER OF OSTRAt" 19
Translated 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 Mary Morrison
INTRODUCTION TO "love's comedy" 293
<(
love's comedy" 305
Translated by C. H. Herford
ILLUSTRATIONS
HENRiK IBSEN Froutispiece
FACING PAGE
THE PHARMACY AT GRIMSTAD, WHERE IBSEN WAS
CLERK FROM 1845 TO 1848 150
HENRIK IBSEN AT THE AGE OF THIRTY .... 296
GENERAL PREFACE
The eleven volumes of this edition contain all, save
one, of the dramas which Henrik Ibsen himself admitted
to the canon of his works. The one exception is his
earliest, and very immature, tragedy, Catilina, first pub-
lished in 1850, and republished in 1875. This play is
interesting in the light reflected from the poet's later
achievements, but has little or no inherent value. A
great part of its interest lies in the very crudities of its
style, which it would be a thankless task to reproduce
in translation. Moreover, the poet impaired even its
biographical value by largely rewriting it before its re-
publication. He did not make it, or attempt to make it,
a better play, but he in some measure corrected its juve-
nility of expression. Which version, then, should a trans-
lator choose ? To go back to the original would seem a
deliberate disregard of the poet's wishes; while, on the
other hand, the retouched version is clearly of far in-
ferior interest. It seemed advisable, therefore, to leave
the play alone, so far as this edition was concerned. Still
more clearly did it appear unnecessary to include the
early plays which were never admitted to any edition
prepared by the poet himself. They are four in number.
The Warrior's Barroio and Olaf Liliekrans were included
in a supplementary volume of the Norwegian collected
edition, issued in 1902, when Ibsen's life-work was over.
ix
X GENERAL PREFACE
The other two — The Ptarmigan ofJustedal and St. John*s
Night — were not published till 1909, when they were
included, with an operatic fragment of small account, in
the first volume of the poet's Literary Remains.
With two exceptions, the plays appear in their chron-
ological order. The exceptions are Love's Comedy, which
ought by rights to come between Tlie Vikings and The
Pretenders, and Emperor and Galilean, which ought to
follow The League of Youth instead of preceding it. The
reasons of convenience which prompted these departures
from the exact order are pretty obvious. It seemed highly
desirable to bring the two Saga plays, if I may so call
them, into one volume; while as for Emperor and Galilean
it could not have been placed between The League of
Youth and Pillars of Society save by separating its two
parts, and assigning Coesars Apostasy to Volume V.,
The Emperor Julian to Volume VI.
For the translations of all the plays in this edition, ex-
cept Love's Comedy and Brand, I am ultimately responsi-
ble, in the sense that I have exercised an unrestricted
right of revision. This means, of course, that, in plays
originally translated by others, the merits of the English
version belong for the most part to the original trans-
lator, while the faults may have been introduced, and
must have been sanctioned, by me. The revision, whether
fortunate or otherwise, has in all cases been very thor-
ough.
In their unrevised form, these translations have met
with a good deal of praise and with some blame. I trust
that the revision has rendered them more praiseworthy,
but I can scarcely hope that it has met all the objections
GENERAL PREFACE xi
of those critics who have found them blameworthy.
For, in some cases at any rate, these objections proceeded
from theories of the translator's function widely diver-
gent from my own — theories of which nothing, probably,
could disabuse the critic's mind, save a little experience
of the difficulties of translating (as distinct from adapt-
ing) dramatic prose. Ibsen is at once extremely easy,
and extremely difficult to translate. It is extremely easy,
in his prose plays, to realise his meaning; it is often ex-
tremely difficult to convey it in natural, colloquial, and
yet not too colloquial, English. He is especially fond of
laying barbed-wire entanglements for the translator's
feet, in the shape of recurrent phrases for which it is ab-
solutely impossible to find an equivalent that will fit in
all the different contexts. But this is only one of many
classes of obstacles which encountered us on almost every
page. I think, indeed, that my collaborators and I may
take it as no small compliment that some of our critics
have apparently not realised the difficulties of our task,
or divined the laborious hours which have often gone to
the turning of a single phrase. And, in not a few cases,
the difficulties have proved sheer impossibilities. I will
cite only one instance. Writing of TJie Master Builder,
a very competent, and indeed generous, critic finds in it
"a curious example of perhaps inevitable inadequacy.
. . . 'Duty! Duty! Duty!' Hilda once exqlaims in
a scornful outburst. 'What a short, sharp, stinging
word!' The epithets do not seem specially apt. But
in the original she cries out 'Pligt! Pligt! Pligt!' and
the very word stings and snaps." I submit that in this
criticism there is one superfluous word — to wit, the "per-
xii GENERAL PREFACE
haps" which qualifies "inevitable." For the term used
by Hilda, and for the idea in her mind, there is only one
possible English equivalent: "Duty." The actress can
speak it so as more or less to justify Hilda's feeling tow-
ards it; and, for the rest, the audience must "piece out
our imperfections Avith their thoughts" and assume that
the Norwegian word has rather more of a sting in its
sound. It might be possible, no doubt, to adapt Hilda's
phrase to the English word, and say, "It sounds like the
swish of a whip-lash," or something to that effect. But
this is a sort of freedom which, rightly or wrongly, I hold
inadmissible. Once grant the right of adaptation, even
in small particulars, and it would be impossible to say
where it should stop. The versions here presented (of
the prose plays, at any rate) are translations, not para-
phrases. If we have ever dropped into paraphrase, it is
a dereliction of principle; and I do not remember an
instance. For stage purposes, no doubt, a little paring
of rough edges is here and there allowable; but even
that, I think, should seldom go beyond the omission of
lines which manifestly lose their force in translation, or
are incomprehensible without a footnote.
In the Introductions to previous editions, I have al-
ways confined myself to the statement of biographical
and historic facts, holding criticism no part of my busi-
ness. Now that Henrik Ibsen has passed away, and his
works have taken a practically uncontested place in
world-literature, this reticence seemed no longer im-
posed upon me. I have consequently made a few critical
remarks on each play, chiefly directed towards tracing
the course of the poet's technical development. Never-
GENERAL PREFACE xiii
theless, the Introductions are still mainly biographical,
and full advantage has been taken of the stores of new
information contained in Ibsen's Letters, and in the books
and articles about him that have appeared since his
death. I have prefixed to Lady Inger of Ostr&t a sketch
of the poet's life down to the date of that play; so that
the Introductions, read in sequence, will be found to form
a pretty full record of a career which, save for frequent
changes of domicile, and the issuing of play after plav,
was singularly uneventful.
The Introductions to Love's Comedy and Brand, as well
as the translations, are entirely the work of Professor
Herford.
A point of typography perhaps deserves remark. The
Norwegian (and German) method of indicating empha-
sis by spacing the letters of a word, thus, has been
adopted in this edition. It is preferable for various rea-
sons to the use of italics. In dramatic work, for one
thing, emphases have sometimes to be indicated so fre-
quently that the peppering of the page with italics would
produce a very ugly effect. But a more important point
is this: the italic fount suggests a stronger emphasis than
the author, as a rule, intends. The spacing of a word,
especially if it be short, will often escape the eye which
does not look very closely; and this is as it should be.
Spacing, as Ibsen employs it, does not generally indicate
any obtrusive stress, but is merely a guide to the reader
in case a doubt should arise in his mind as to which of
two words is intended to be the more emphatic. When
such a doubt occurs, the reader, by looking closely at the
text, will often find in the spacing an indication which
xiv GENERAL PREFACE
may at first have escaped him. In almost all cases, a
spaced word in the translation represents a spaced word
in the original. I have very seldom used spacing to in-
dicate an emphasis peculiar to the English phraseology.
The system was first introduced in 1897, in the transla-
tion of John Gabriel Borkman. It has no longer even the
disadvantage of unfamiliarity, since it has been adopted
by Mr. Bernard Shaw in his printed plays, and, I believe,
by other dramatists.
Just thirty years^ have passed since I first put pen to
paper in a translation of Ibsen. In October, 1877, Pil-
lars of Society reached me hot from the press; and, hav-
ing devoured it, I dashed off a translation of it in less
than a week. It has since cost me five or six times as
much work in revision as it originallv did in transla-
tion. The manuscript was punctually returned to me by
more than one publisher; and something like ten years
elapsed before it slowly dawned on me that the translat-
ing and editing of Ibsen's works was to be one of the
chief labours, as it has certainly been one of the greatest
privileges, of my life. Since 1887 or thereabouts, not
many months have passed in which a considerable por-
tion of my time has not been devoted to acting, in one
form or another, as intermediary between Ibsen and the
English-speaking public. The larger part of the work,
in actual bulk, I have myself done; but I have had in-
valuable aid from many quarters, and not merely from
those fellow-workers who are named in the following
pages as the original translators of certain of the plays.
' Written in 1907.
GENERAL PREFACE xv
These "helpers and servers," as Solness would say, are
too many to be individually mentioned; but to all of
them, and chiefly to one who has devoted to the service
of Ibsen a good deal of the hard-won leisure of Indian
official life, I hereby convey my heartfelt thanks.
The task is now ended. Though it has involved not
a httle sheer drudgery, it has, on the whole, been of ab-
sorbing interest. And I should have been ungrateful
indeed had I shrunk from drudgery in the cause of an
author who had meant so much to me. I have experienced
no other literary emotion at all comparable to the eager-
ness with which, ever since 1877, I awaited each new
play of Ibsen's, or the excitement with which I tore off
the wrapper of the postal packets in which the little
paper-covered books arrived from Copenhagen. People
who are old enough to remember the appearance of the
monthly parts of David Copperfield or Pendennis may
have some inkling of my sensations; but they were all
the intenser as they recurred at intervals, not of one
month, but of two years. And it was not Ibsen the man
of ideas or doctrines that meant so much to me; it was
Ibsen the pure poet, the creator of men and women, the
searcher of hearts, the weaver of strange webs of destiny.
I can only trust that, by diligence in seeking for the best
interpretation of his thoughts, I have paid some part of
my debt to that great spirit, and to the glorious country
that gave him birth.
William Archer.
P. S. — To the present (1911) edition is added a sup-
plementary volume containing all that is of general in-
xvi GENERAL PREFACE
terest in Ibsen's first drafts and sketches for his plays,
from Pillars of Society onwards. These documents
appeared in the Literary Remains (1909) and are now
translated for the first time.
LADY INGER OF OSTRAT
LADY INGER OF OSTRAT
INTRODUCTION*
Henrik Johan Ibsen was born 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 been 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 yoimger 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,
1 See Introduction to The Wild Duck.
=» He continued to dabble in painting until he was thirty, or
thereabouts.
INTRODUCTION 5
he kad to s-et about earning his living, and was ap-
prenticed to an apothecarr in Grimstad, a toTrn on the
south-west coast of Norway, between Arendal and Chris-
tianssand. He was here in even narrower social sur-
roundings than at Siden. 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 httle 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 Schulerad.
The first political event which aroused his interest
and stirred him to literary 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 ]SIagyars, adjuring them, for the sake of
freedom and humanitv. not to falter in their ricjhteous
war against *the tyrants': and I composed a long series
of sonnets to Kin^ 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!" have 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 — the contrast be-
tween two types of womanhood, one strong and reso-
lute, even to criminality, the other comparatively weak,
clinging, and "feminine" in the conventional sense of
the 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 Voerker, vol. x, p. i) he arrived in Chris-
tiania in March, 1850, and Catilina did not ai)pear until April.
INTRODUCTION 7
ace to the re-written CatiUna, 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 Bjcirnson,
A. O. Vinje, and Jonas Lie. In the early summer of
1850 he wrote a one-act play, Kiwmpehoien (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
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 Andhrimjier, after 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-
ciayi'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, Wergeland and Welhaven, had nothing dramatic
in their composition, though Wergeland 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 tow^ns, 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 bv Norwegians themselves to be ridiculous on
the stage. Fortunately Ole Bull, the great violinist, was
not of that opinion. AVith 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 10.9., 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 sav, from his twentv-fourth to his thirtieth year.
He was engaged in the first instance "to assist the the-
atre as dramatic author," but in the following; vear 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, on 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. Johns Night,
which was first printed in the Literary Remains (1909).
It is an exceedingly immature 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 mistake 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, ah-eady 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-plajits, 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 aftair 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 touching 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 higer 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.
2 See article by Dr. Julius Elias in Die neue Rundschau, December,
190G, p. 1463. Dr. Brahm, in the same magazine (p. 1414), writes
as though this 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, patriotism 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 Fni
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 ideaUsed, by the
poet. Fru Inger Ottisdatter Gyldenldve 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-
otic 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 freedom. 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 Bergen 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-
1 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-and-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 DolVs 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 Conies 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 EHna, brooding over the thought
of her dead sister, coflSned 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 which the good people
of Bergen were regaled. For the suggestion of grave-
vaults and coffined 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 find 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 OF 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 the dialogue, the touch of a master hand.
W. A.
LADY INGER OF OSTRAT
(1855)
CHARACTERS
Lady Inger Ottisdaughter 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, majordomo at Ostrat.
Finn, a servant.
EiNAR HuK, bailiff at Ostrat.
Servants, peasants, and Sivedish 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; Biorn = Byorn;
Jens Bielke = Yens Byelke; Huk = Hook. The g's in "Inger"
and in "Gyldenlove" are, of course, hard. The final e's and
the o's pronounced much as in German.]
20
LADY INGER OF OSTRAT
DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS
ACT FIRST
A room at Ostrat. Through an open door in the hack, the
Banquet Hall is seen in faint moonlight, ivhich shines
fitfully through a deep boto-window in the opposite
wall. To the right, an entrance-door; further for-
ward, a curtained windoio. On tJie left, a door lead-
ing to the inner rooms; further forward a large open
fireplace, which casts a glow over tJie room. It is a
stormy evening.
BioRN 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 ?
BlORN.
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
BlORN.
If you know not that, ask any child of five.
Finn.
So Knut Alfson 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 not one call Norway's land
an empty nut-shell, even like the helmet here; bright
without, 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!
BlORN.
[Mutters.] Let me get a grip on y o u
[Finn hums to himself for a while.
BlORN.
What now ?
Finn.
An empty helmet, a sword with no edge, a shield with
no grip — so it has all come 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 ?
BlORN.
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 OSTRAT [act i
we have never a man; and where no man is, there must
women order things; therefore
BlORN,
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.
[I71 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 room there is talk of many things. [Lower.] They
say that, night by night, a tall figure, clad in black, walks
the Banquet Hall.
Biorn.
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
BlORN.
[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 day 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 sfeaking, Elina Gyldenlove has ap-
peared in the half-open door on the left. She stops
and listens, unobserved.
Biorn.
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 ?
Biorn.
A song?
Finn.
Ay, 'tis on all folks' lips. 'Tis a shameful scurril
thing, for sure; yet it goes prettily. Just listen:
[Sings in 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
[BioRN enraged, seizes him hy the throat. Elina
Gyldenlove withdraws without having been seen.
BlORN.
I will send you guerdonless to the foul fiend, if you
prate of Lady Inger but one unseemly word more.
Finn.
[Breaking from his grasp.] Why — did / make the
song? [The blast of a horn is heard from the right.
BlORN.
Hark — what is that .''
Finn.
A horn. Then there come guests to-night.
BlORN.
[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
BlORX.
Why not ?
FiXN.
Did you not say yourself: the last of our knighthood
is dead and gone ? \Goes out to tlie right.
BlORX.
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
Elixa.
[Comes in again through the door on the left; looks
round her, and says with suppressed emotion:] Are you
alone, Biorn ?
BlORX.
Is it you. Mistress Elina ?
Elixa.
Come, Biorn, tell me one of your stories; I know you
can tell others than those that
BlORX.
A story? Now — so late in the evening ?
Elixa.
If vou count from the time when it grew dark at
Ostrat, then 'tis late indeed.
28 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i
BlORN.
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.
BlORN.
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 mv
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 no 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!
BlORX.
[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!"
30 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i
BlORN.
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.
Biorn.
You are a child no longer.
Elina.
Nay, indeed! But let me dream that I am. — Come,
tell on!
[Throws herself into a chair. Biorn sits on the edge
of the high hearth.
Biorn.
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!
Biorn.
[More softly.] Once upon a time there was a high-
born knight, of whom there went the strange report
[Elina half rises, and listens in anxious suspense in
the direction of the hall.
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 81
BlORN.
Mistress EHna, — 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
BlORN.
Maybe so.
Elina.
Well, let it pass — go on!
BlORN.
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 ?
BlORN.
What?
Elina.
It is there! Yes, by the cross of Christ, it is there!
BlORN.
[Rises.] What is there ? Where ?
Elina.
She herself — in the hall
[Goes hastily toioards the hall.
BlORN.
[Folloioing^ 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 ^
Biorn.
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!
Biorn.
Mistress Elina, hear me!
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 33
Elina.
[Going hack towards the fire place. '\ Now I know what
I know!
BlORN.
[To himself. "l Then it is true!
Elina.
Who was it, Biorn ? Who w^as it ?
BlORN.
You saw as plainly as I.
Elina.
Well ? Whom did I see ?
Biorn.
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
Biorn.
Hush!
[Lady Inger Gyldenlove enters rapidly from the
hall, without noticing the others; she goes to tJie
window, draivs the curtain, and gazes out as if
ivatching for some one on the high road; after a
while, she turns and goes slowly back into the hall.
34 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i
Elina.
[Softly, following Iter with lier eyes.] White, white as
the dead !
[An uproar of many voices is heard outside the door
on tJie right.
BlORN.
What can this be ?
Elina.
Go out and see what is amiss.
[EiNAR HuK, the bailiff, appears in the anteroom,
with a crowd of Retainers and Peasants.
EiNAR HuK.
[In the doorway.] Straight in to her! And be not
abashed !
BlORN.
What seek you ?
EiNAR HuK.
Lady Inger herself.
BlORN.
Lady Inger .'' So late ?
EiNAR HuK.
Late, but time enough, I wot.
The Peasants.
Yes, yes; she must hear us now!
[TJie whole rabble crowds into the room. At the same
moment Lady Inger appears in the doorway oftlie
hall. A sudden silence.
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 35
Lady Inger.
What would you with me ?
EiNAR HUK.
We sought you, noble lady, to
Lady Inger.
Well — say on!
EiNAR 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 Inger.
[To herself.] Can the time be come?
EiNAR 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 .''
BlORN.
[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 vet,
yet !
BlORN.
[To himself.] She is of two minds. [To Elixa.]
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 mv 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! Arc you
^ stock ?
Pronounce StoorS.
thinking of the Sture^ stock ?
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 Inger
[Hastily.] Enough, Einar Huk, enough! [To her-
self.] 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 Inger.
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 joy from the midtitude. Candles are
lighted; tJie Retainers hring out iveapons of dif-
ferent kinds from the Iiall.
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 39
BlORN.
[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 Inger.
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 Stoore.
40 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i
Finn.
[Comes from the door on tJie left, with a letter in his
hand, and goes towards Lady Inger.] I have sought you
through all the house
Lady Inger.
What would you ?
Finn.
[Hands Jier the letter.] A messenger is come from
Trondhiem^ with a letter for you.
Lady Inger.
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 tlie men go on
bringing out arms from the JmU.
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.
EiNAR HuK.
Enough, enough, good fellows; we are well armed
now. Set we forth now on our way!
Lady Inger.
[With a sudden change of to7ie.] No man shall leave
my house to-night!
' Pronounce Tronyem.
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 41
EiNAR HUK.
But the wind is fair, noble lady; 'twill take us quickly
up the fiord, and
Lady Inger.
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 croicd.
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, sJie 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 hack the arms, and the whole
crowd then withdraws by the door on the right.
42 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act i
Elina.
[Softly to BioRN.] Say you still that I have sinned in
misjudging — the Lady of Ostrat ?
Lady Inger.
[Beckons *,o Biorn, and says.] Have a guest-chamber
ready.
Biorn.
It is well. Lady Inger!
Lady Inger.
And let the gate be open to whoever shall knock.
Biorn.
But ?
Lady Inger.
The gate open!
Biorn.
The gate open. [Goes out to the right.
Lady Inger.
[To Elina, ivho 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 Inger.
Elina you think evil of your mother.
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 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 chronicles 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 country'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 have 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.
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.
\y ehemently \ 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 f
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 windoiv.
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 Inger.
It rests with you whether all this shall henceforth be
Elina.
changed
How so?
Lady Inger.
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.
[Throivs 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 [acti
Lady Inger.
What do you mean ? Elina, I do not understand
you.
Elina.
Then they were all deceived! You are still true at
heart !
Lady Ingeb.
Rise, rise and tell me
Elina.
Think you I do not know who the stranger is?
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
And what then ?
Elina.
I know well that many a high-born knight is hunted
through the woods like a hungry wolf. No hearth has
he to rest by, no bread to eat
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 47
Lady Inger.
[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 Inger.
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
Hush, child; — I might take you at your word.
Elina.
How mean you, my mother.''
Lady Inger.
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 the last blow at our rights and our freedom.
Therefore must we now
Elina.
[Eagerly.] Openly rebel, my mother?
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
No, we will not endure it. But to take up arms — to
declare open w^ar — 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, 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 Inger.
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 [acti
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
It sounds well, Elina; Denmark has scarce a nobler
name.
Elina.
But what then do you purpose ? I cannot yet grasp
meaning.
Lady Inger.
your e,
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 Inger.
It rests with you to tighten them as you will.
ACT I] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 51
Elina.
With me ?
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
A noble.
Elina.
[More softly.] And the Danish envoy comes hither
to-night ?
Lady Inger.
To-night.
Elina.
If so be, then I fear to read the meaning of your words.
Lady Inger.
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 53
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 ladv "^ Vinzents Lung-e is mightv, 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 'twas 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 Inger.
Ask God, who took her.
^ Pronounce Mayrayte. ^ Pronounce LoongJii.
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
[Relieved, to herself.] Ah, then you do not know all
Elina — '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 55
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
closely 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 Inger.
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 not; but I feel within me the
strength to dare all for our righteous cause.
Lady Inger.
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 aichile.] My last child ? You know
not how true was that word But the stake is not
my child only. God help me, I am playing to-night for
the whole of Norway's land.
Ah — is not that 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 tliem 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 cannot!
\Steals a glance totvards 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 repidsion, 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 Hall. He
is dressed in a torn laTnbskin 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.
x\nd 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,
58
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 59
that they shall not lay me beneath the sod before I have
seen my vengeance.
Lady Inger.
Then is there a long life before you. What have vou
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 Inger.
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 [act ii
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 mav wander.
Lady Inger.
Speak then; I will not hinder you.
Olaf Skaktavl.
'Tis niffh 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 Inger.
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 as
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 vou but
willed it. You came of the noblest blood in Norwav;
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 Inger.
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
safelv sav that the boldest men in Norwav 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 Inger.
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 Inger.
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
Ostrjit. Do you need harbour? Well, I will try to
hide you. If you would have aught else, speak out; you
shall find me ready
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 63
Olaf Skaktavl.
For twenty years have I been homeless. In the moun-
tains of Jaemteland 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 Ingek.
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 Inger.
I know it.
Olaf Skaktavl.
Peter Kanzler^ is with us — secretly, you understand.
Lady Inger.
[Starting.] Peter Kanzler.^
Olaf Skaktavl.
'Tis he that has sent me to Ostrat.
Lady Inger.
[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 Kanzler 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.
\\\^it}i 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.
'Tis as I tell you. If he be not already come, he will
soon
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 65
Lady Inger.
Doubtless, doubtless; but
Olaf Skaktavl.
Then you knew of his coming ?
Lady Inger.
Ay, surely. He sent me a message. 'Twas therefore
they opened to you as soon as you knocked.
Olaf Skaktavl.
[Listeyis.] Hush! — some one is riding along the road.
[Goes to the window.] They are opening the gate.
Lady Inger.
[Looks out.] It is a knight and his attendant. They
are dismounting in the courtyard.
Olaf Skaktavl.
'Tis he, then. His name.?
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
Ay; even to-night.
66 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii
Olaf Skaktavl.
He was to bring letters with him; and from 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 tJien goes hack 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 II] LADY INGER OF 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.
[IF/mpers.] Then the first thing is to put a guard on
the gate; so are we sure of him.
68 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii
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 — can 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 bad 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-at-arms
70 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii
Nils Lykke.
But instead, the gate is very courteously thrown open
to us. Mark now — if Inger Gyldenlove's fame beUe her
not, I warrant 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 held 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
errand has taken, you have but to leave the field to me.
Jens Bielke.
To you ? What will you do ?
ACT II] 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 have 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 have
served him as well as any man could, in more than one
ticklish charge.
Jens Bielke.
That you may safely boast. God and all men know
you for the craftiest devil in all the three kingdoms.
72 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii
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 t h a t 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 Copenhagen, 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 rouyid 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 tvith 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 should 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 Inger Gyldexlove enters from the hall.
Lady Ixger.
[Coldly.] My greeting to you. Sir Councillor
Nils Lykke.
[Bows deeply.] Ah— the Lady of Ostrat!
Lady Ixger.
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 Ixger.
Trulv, Sir Councillor, therein you iud^ed aricrht.
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 Inger.
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 Lykke,
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 Inger.
I knew not there had ever been aught else ?
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 77
Nils Lykke.
Not on your side, mayhap. I have never been
your enemy, — though, as a subject of the King of Den-
mark, I lacked not good cause.
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
I know the mission that report assigns you. Our
King would fain know how the Norwegian nobles stand
affected towards him.
78 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act ii
Nils Lykke.
Assuredly.
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
[To herself.] A secret tie! Oh God, can he ?
Nils Lykke.
\Notices her emotion, hut makes no sign, and continues
without change of ma7iner.] 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 II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 79
Lady Inger.
In your power, you say?
Nils Lykke.
First of all, Lady Inger, I would beg you to lay 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 Inger.
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 therefore 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 Ixger.
[To herself.] Whither is he tending?
Nils Lykke.
-the chance, namely, that there should exist in
Sweden a man entitled bv 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 last 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.
[WJio 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 [actii
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 Inger,
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 [co7i-
fidently] — the knight from Sweden, who came hither an
hour before me
Lady Inger.
Then you already know of his coming?
ACT II] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 83
Nils Lykke.
Most certainly. 'Tis tie whom I seek.
Lady Inger.
[To herself.] Strange! Then it must be as Olaf
Skaktavl 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 Sture's son.
And now ? H'm ! Since Lady Inger has been simple
enough to walk into the snare, Nils S^ure 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 Bielke 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 Ostnit, — 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 Gvldenlove'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 toivards the hall, and says with relief.]
Ah, there is no fear. Here they come.
[Lady Inger 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 Inger.
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.] 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 ii
Olaf 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, ayid 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.
[Aside.] Time gained — all gained!
[To Lady Inger with a show of great friendliness:
And meanwhile wc 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 Jills 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.
[Throivs down the goblet.] Ah, I am poisoned!
Olaf Skaktavl.
[At the same tim,e, clutches his sword.] 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 Gyldenlove 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.
[Motiotis her mother hack ivith her Jiand, 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 Inger.] How ? Does she know me ?
Can Lucia have — ? Can she know ?
Lady Inger.
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 ofjiowers 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.
Olaf Skaktavl.
[Mutters to himself.] Bold — as Inger Ottisdaughter
by Knut Alf son's bier!
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-windoiv in the hack-
ground; a smaller windoiu in front on the left. Sev-
eral doors on each side. The ceiling is S7ipported 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 roivs. Pen-
dent from the ceiling a large many-branched 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 shoivs that she is
going over again in her mind the scene with Nils
Lykke. At last she repeats the motion ivith 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. Ali —
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 toivards the hack, oyens the window and
looks out. Nils Lykke comes in by the first door
on the right.
Nils Lykke.
[To himself ."l "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 that a woman has flung at my feet.
Truly, I fear me sleep will be slow of coming. [Notices
Elina, who has left the windoio, 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 door.] 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.
[Smiles.] 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.
[Proudly.] Think you that you will ever have your
wish r
94 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act hi
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.
[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 mc.
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 Lykke.
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 hi
For the rest, you err in thinking 'twas your letter to
mv mother that aroused my soul's hatred and bitterness
against you. It is of older date.
Nils Lykke.
[Uneasili/.] 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 enemy'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. I^ight 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 Ostrat 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 have 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
Nils 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
of 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 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 hi
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
Sir Knight-
Elina.
Nils Lykke.
[Smiling.] Ah, I see the thought of my letter still af-
frijrhts vou. Fear nou2;ht 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 III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 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 ?
LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNtti
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.
Elina.
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 have 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 .'* [Syrings wp.] Damnation ! Is it I that have
,-^y
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 103
been fooled ? 'Tis like enough that Count Sture is not
at Ostrat 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
dourn.] 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 windoio in the background is pushed open.
Nils Stensson appears outside.
Nils Lykke,
[Clutches at his sword.] Who is there ?
Nils Stensson.
[Jumps down on to the Jloor.] 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 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act hi
Nils Stensson.
Av, 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
tivo 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 lore not to keep folk
waiting, I can tell you.
Nils Lykke.
Aha, — then Lady Inger Gyldenlcive 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 — ? Av, 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 doicn 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 iii
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—
. 3
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 I
108 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act hi
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.
[Eatitig.] 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 OF 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 Lykke.
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.
[Somevjhat 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 hi
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 Ostrat, 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 strano;er
'o^
Nils Lykke.
Ay, right; I am he.
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 113
Nils Stexssox.
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 few old servants of the Stures.
Nils Lykke.
I understand. The Count was the peasants' rally ing-
point. Were the tidings of his death to spread, they
would fall asunder, — and 'twould all come to nought.
Nils Stensson.
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 TNGER OF ()STRAT [act hi
Nils Stensson.
I? I ate and drniik and took my ease. The only
pity was that I had to take tlie road a<j;;iin so soon. But
when T sot forth across the fronticM* — lia-ha-ha— I prom-
ised them I wouhl soon he hack with three or four thou-
sand men — I know not how many 1 said — and then we
would lay on in earnest.
Nils Lykke.
And you did not bethink you that you were acting
rashly ?
Nii^ 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. I/Ct me tell you
that you arc pursued. A troop of Swedish men-at-arms
is out after you.
Nils Stensson.
After me? Ila-ha-ha! Nay, that is rare! And when
they come and think they have Count Sture in their
clutches — ha-ha-ha !
Nils Lykke.
[Gravebj.] 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 not a
dead man yet! You will protect me; and besides — the
men-at-arms can scarce be at my heels yet.
Nils Lykke.
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, rij^ht, 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 ?
No, good sir; I love not to read writing; and for reason
Nils Stensson
, good sir; I lo
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 Stb:nsson.] Can he be — ? Ah, if it were so!
[Reads on.] "I have nurtured him since he was a year
ACT III] LADY IXGER OF 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 mav
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 undertakinor, vou 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 awhile as though struck dumb ivith
surprise; then exclaims in a low voiced] 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 Jiis doublet; puts back the other pa-
pers into the packet, ivhich 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 hi
Nils Lykke.
Av, bv my soul it does. You have given me a hand
of nought but court cards, — queens and knaves
Nils Stexsson.
But what of me, that have brought all these good tid-
ings ? Have I nought more to do ?
Nils Lykke.
You ? Ay, that have you. You belong to the game.
You are a king — and king of trumps too.
Nils Stexsson.
I a king? Oh, now I understand; you are thinking
of mv exaltation
Nils Lykke.
Your exaltation ?
Nils Stexssox.
Av; that which vou 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 that 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 Stexssox.
A chain of gold ? And it lies with me ?
[Nils Lykke nods.
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 119
Nils Stexsson.
Why, then, the devil take doubting! Do you but tell
me what I am to do.
Nils Lykke.
I will. But first you 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 iii
Nils Lykke.
First your oath ! The holiest, the most inviolable you
can swear.
Nils Stensson.
That you 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. [Poijits
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 !
Nils Lykke.
What now?
ACT III] 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 iii
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 ?
ACT III] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 123
Nils Stensson.
Nay, not wholly that; but— well, the devil take musing!
Nils Lykke.
Well said. Go but your own way, and you are as
sure of the halter as you are of a Count's title and a
chain of gold if you trust to me.
Nils Stensson.
That will I. My hand upon it, dear Sir! Do you
but 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 supper-table.
BioRN, the majordomo, enters carrying a lighted branch-
candlestick, and lighting in Lady Inger and Olaf
Skaktavl by the second door on the left. Lady
Inger has a bundle of papers in her hand.
Ladt Inger.
[To BioRN.] And you are sure my daughter had
speech with the knight, here in the hall ?
BlORN.
[Putting down the brancli-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 .''
BlORN.
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
ACTiv] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 125
Lady Ixger.
Did you not hear it at all ?
BlORN.
It sounded to me as though she said: — "Almost I
fear he has already tarried too Ions; at Ostrat."
Lady Inger.
And the knight ? Where is he ?
BlORX.
In his chamber belike, in the gate-wing.
Lady Ixger.
It is well. What I have to send by him is ready. Go
to him and say I await him here in the hall.
[BioRN 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 Inger.
Well ?
Olaf Skaktavl
though
daughter
as though Nils Lvkke bore a mind to your
Lady Ixger.
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 OSTRAT [act iv
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 Inger.
And our secret affairs as well.
Olaf Skaktavl.
Ay, and what is more — the papers from Peter Kanzler.
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
1 should be right glad to know him outside my
gates ?
Olaf Skaktavl.
Ay; and that as soon as may be.
Lady Inger.
[SmiliJig.] Nay — the case is just the contrary, Olaf
Skaktavl !
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 127
Olaf Skaktavl.
How mean you ?
Lady Inger,
If things be as we both think, Nils Lykke must in
nowise depart from Ostrat yet awhile.
Olaf Skaktavl.
[Looks at her ivith 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 Inger.
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
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 loiD x'oice.'] 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 love 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 EHna 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 dav!
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 Alf son's
bier.
Olaf Skaktavl.
\Shahes her hij 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 Skjvktavl.
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 Inger.
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 Ulc foremost door on the right.
Nils Lykke.
[Approaches Lady Inger courteously.] My noble
hostess has summoned me.
Lady Inger.
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 OF 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 Ostrat, he must forgret
Nils Lykke.
What, lady ?
Lady Ixger.
First of all his errand — and then all that had s-one
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.
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 Inger.
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 mav 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 Sk-\ktavl.
[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 Inger.
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
ACTiv] 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 least 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
Tou 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 Lstger.
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 vour
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 Inger.
However that mav be, it might at anv 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 vou this franklv, 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 promises needs to be somewhat strengthened
ere I can place my whole welfare in your hands.
Nils Lykke.
A longer stay at Ostrut would scarce help towards
that end; since I purpose not to make any further effort
to shake your resolve.
Lady Ixger.
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 OSTRAT 135
trap Inger Gyldenlove, and was caught in his own nets."
— Softly, softly, Sir Knight, why so impatient! 'Tis not
that I 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 alliance, when 'tis
known that / 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 Inger.
\Hastihj.'\ prolong your stay at Ostrat.
Olaf Skaktavl.
\Who 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 IXGER OF OSTRAT [act iv
Lady Inger,
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 Inger.
Ostrat Castle against your knee-buckles!
Nils Lykke.
[Slaps his breast and cries:] Olaf Skaktavl — here
stands the master of Ostrat!
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
Ha-ha ! [Stops suddenly, as if struck by a fore-
boding.] x\nd these two words, Nils Lykke ? — these two
words ?
Nils Lykke.
The secret of Sten Sture's son and yours.
Lady Inger.
[With a shriek.] Oh, God in heaven !
Olaf Skaktavl.
Inger Gyldenlove's son ! What say you ?
Lady Inger.
[Half kneeling to Nils Lykke.] Mercy! oh, be mer-
ciful !
Nils Lykke.
[Raises her up.] Collect yourself, and let us talk
together calmly.
Lady Inger.
[In a loto voice, as though beivildered.] 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 Inger.
[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 Inger.
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 affonv! — 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. W^here have you
got him ? Where is he ?
Nils Lykke.
With his foster-father.
Lady Inger.
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
kno^y thoroughly. And you too, my old and faithful
friend !
Listen then. To-night you bade me call to mind
that fatal day when Knut xVlfson 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. Playmates 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 Inger.
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-and-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
riirhts.
'O
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 all,"
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
ijladlv 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 Inger.
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 [act iv
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 OF OSTRAT 143
Lady Inger.
[To Jierself.] 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 Inger.
And next ?
Nils Lykke.
that you do your best to advance young Count
Sture's ancestral claim to the throne of Sweden.
Lady Inger.
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
safetv. What better can vou wish than to see his half-
brother on the throne ?
Lady Inger.
[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 OstrS^t.
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.
In writing?
Nils Lykke.
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 Inger.
He has treachery in his heart.
[Lays the paper before her and dips the pen in tlie ink.
146 LADY INGER OF 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 ivith 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 please. 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 Inger, 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 mien! 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 a t — [lakes 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 Inger.
[Rises and hands him a paper.] Sir Knight — here is
my promise.
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 149
Nils Lykke.
I thank you.
Lady Inger.
[Notices Nils Stensson.] Ah, — this young man
is ?
Nils Lykke.
Ay, Lady Inger, he is Count Sture.
Lady Inger.
[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 Inger.
[In a loud voice.] 'Tis the spirits awaking!
[Olaf Skaktavl, Einar Huk, Biorn, Finn, and a
number of Peasants and Retainers corns in from
the back, on the right.
The Peasants and Retainers.
Hail to Lady Inger Gyldenlove!
150 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv
Lady Inger.
[To Olaf Skaktavl.] Have you told them what is
afoot ?
Olaf Skaktavl.
I have told them all thev need to know.
ft/
Lady Inger.
[To the Crowd.] Ay, now, my faithful house-folk
and peasants, now must ye arm you 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 excitement. The Peasants and Retain-
ers choose out weapons and put 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!
X
X
o
0)
o
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 Inger.] What? You mean not
to-night, even now ?
Lady Inger.
This very moment, Sir Knight!
Nils Lykke.
Nay, nay, impossible!
Lady Inger.
I have said it.
Nils Lykke.
[Softly, to Nils Stensson.] Obey her not!
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 Inger.
[To Nils Stensson.] Count Sture — do you obey me
or not ?
Nils Stensson.
To horse! [Goes up toicards the background..
Nils Lykke.
[Aside.] Unhappy boy! He knows not what he does.
[To Lady Ingeu.
Well, since so it must be, — farewell!
[Bows hastily, and begins to move away.
ACT IV] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 153
Lady Inger.
[Detains him.] Nay, stay! Not so, Sir Knight, —
not so!
Nils Lykke.
What mean you ?
Lady Inger.
[In a loio 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 Inger.
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 Inger.
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 Inger.
[To Olaf Skaktavl.] Ride with Count Sture's
troops to the frontier; then without pause to Peter
Kanzler, and bring me back 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 Inger.
Thanks, — thanks, my faithful friend!
Nils Lykke.
[To Finn, whom he has beckoned to him unobserved,
and with whom, he has been ivhispering .] 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 Inger.
[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 155'
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 Lykke.
[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! [Aside.] All may yet be saved.
If only my message reach Jens Bielke in time
Lady Inger.
[To EiNAR 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 Inger,
[Imperatively.] To the dungeon with him!
[Einar Huk, Biorn, a7id a couple of tlie house'
servants lead Finn out to the left.
156 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act iv
All the Rest.
[Except Nils Lykke, rushing oid to the right.'] Away!
To horse, — to horse! Hail to Lady Inger Gyldenlove!
Lady Inger.
[Passing close to Nils Lykke as she goes out after the
others.] Who wins ?
Nils Lykke.
[Remaijis alo7ie.] Who.' Ay, woe to you; — your vic-
tory will cost you dear. / wash my hands of it. 'Tis
not / 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
windoiv.] There they ride clattering out through the
gateway. — Now '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 Avell-armed horsemen
with him. 'Twill be life or death.
But if, after all, they should take him alive .'' — W'ere I
but free, I could overtake the Swedes ere they reach the
frontier, and make them deliver him up. [Goes towards
tlie 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 she that is singing.
Then she is still awake [A thought seems to strike
ACT iv] LADY IXGER OF OSTRAT 157
him.] Elina! — Ah, if that could be! Were it possi-
ble to — And why should I not ? Am I not still mv-
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 I
[Goes quickly but stealthily towards the first door on
the left.
ACT FIFTH
The Banquet Hall. It is still night. The hall is hut
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 Inger.
[After a pause.] They call me keen-witted beyond all
others in the land. I believe they are right. The keen-
est-witted — No one knows how I became so. For
more than twenty years I have fought to save my child.
That is the key to the riddle. Ay, that sharpens the
wits!
Mv wits ? Where have thev 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 Iter 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
158
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 knows; — 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
sleep 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 tlw left.
[After a short pause. Nils Lykke and Elina
Gyldenlove enter noiselessly by the first door on
the left. Nils Lykke has a sm^all 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 v
Elina.
Oh, let me look but once more into your eyes, before
you leave me.
Nils Lykke.
[Embraces her.] Elina I
Elina.
[After a short pause.] Will you come nevermore to
Ostrat ?
Nils Lykke.
How can you doubt that I will come ? Are you not
henceforth my betrothed ? — But wull 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 Iter 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 IvYkke.
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 w^ords 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 y o u but a
pastime, or woman but a toy .''
Nils Lykke.
Elina, — hear me!
Elina.
As I grew up, your name was ever in my ears. 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 Ltkke.
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
me
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
dotvn 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 many
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.
ACTV] 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 atone 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
/ 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.
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.
/ 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 Lykke.
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.
ACT V] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 165
Nils Lykke.
And you
Elina.
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, Elina — ; 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 windoiv.] 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.
[Clim,bs back hastily and shuts 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 OF OSTRAT 167
Nils Lykke.
[Lets the lantern fall.] Ah! too late !
[BioRN 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 enters by the furthest
back door on the left, with a branch-candlestick,
lighted, in her hand, and says quickly:
Lady Inger.
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 Retainers go out again to the
right.
Lady Inger.
\To Nils Lykke.] So that was the trap, Sir
Councillor!
Nils Lykke,
Inger Gyldenlove, believe me !
Lady Inger,
An ambuscade that was to snap him up as soon as
you had secured the promise that should destroy me!
Nils Lykke.
[Takes out tJie paper and tears it to pieces.] There is
your promise, I keep nothing that can bear witness
against you.
What is this ?
Lady Inger,
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.
ACT V] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 169
Lady Inger.
[Looks after him ivith exultation,] 'Tis well! I un-
derstand him. [Turns to Elina.
Nils Lykke— ? Well ?
Elina.
He knocked upon my door, and set this ring upon my
finger.
Lady Inger
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 Inger.
Hush! We have played into each other's hands. What
wiles did you use, my subtle daughter? I saw 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 Inger.
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! [Ttirns again to Elina.]
Know then : Nils Lykke was the man that brought your
sister to her grave.
Elina.
[With a shriek.] Lucia!
Lady Inger.
He it was, as truly as there is an Avenger above us!
Elina.
Then Heaven be with me!
Lady Inger.
[Appalled.] Elina ? !
Elina.
I am his bride in the sight of God.
ACTV] 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 tJie left.
Lady Inger.
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 off one green branch after another 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 !
Nils Stensson.
[Rushes in, unarmed, and with his clothes torn, and
shouts with a laugh of desperation.] Well met again,
Inger Gyldenlove!
172 LADY IXGER OF OSTRAT [act v
Lady Inger.
What have you lost ?
Nils Stexsson.
My kingdom and my hfe!
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.
Olaf 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 Inger.
Alas, Olaf Skaktavl, you too !
Olaf Skaktavl.
'Twas impossible to break through.
Lady Inger.
You are wounded, I see!
Ol.^f Skaktavl.
A finger the less; that is all.
ACT V] 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 Inger.
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 Inger.
[At the vnndow.] 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 Inger.
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 Stexssox.
Fled? Then God help me; for he alone can unseal
my lips. — But what is a promise against a life! ^Yhen
the Swedish captain comes
Lady Ixger,
What then ? What will vou do ?
Nils Stensson.
Purchase life and freedom; — tell him all.
Lady Ixger.
Oh no, no; — be merciful I
Nils Stexssox.
Nought else can save me. When I have told him
what I know
Lady Ixger.
[Looks at him with suppressed agitation.] You will be
saie :'
Nils Stexssox.
Ay, safe! Nils Lykke will speak for me. You see, 'tis
the last resource.
Lady Ixger.
[Composedly, icith 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 Stexssox.
[In a loiv voice.] Trust me — you will never repent of
this.
176 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v
Lady Inger.
[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 folloioing; hut
Lady Inger detains him.
Lady Inger.
Did you understand his meaning ?
Olaf Skaktavl.
The dastard ! He would betray your secret. He would
sacrifice your son to save himself.
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
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 he 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 back across the hall
with a wild look. 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 comes silently into tlie hall.
Lady Inger.
[After a pause, without looking at himi\ Is it done ?
Olaf Skaktavl.
You need fear him no more; he will betray no one.
178 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v
Lady Inger.
[-4s before.] Then he is dumb ?
Olaf Skaktavl.
Six inches of steel in his breast. I felled him with my
left hand.
Lady Inger.
Ay, ay — the right was too good for such work.
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 out by the furthest door on the right.
Lady Inger.
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-
Arms, by the first door on the right.
One of the Men-at-Arms.
Pardon, if you are the lady of the house
Lady Inger.
Is it Count Sture ye seek ?
The Man-at-Arms.
The same.
Lady Inger.
Then you are on the right track. The Count has
sought refuge with me.
ACT V] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 17D
The Man-at-Arms.
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 all
the honour that beseems his noble birth. — Biorn, you
know my own cofiin has stood ready this many a year
in the secret chamber. [To the Men- at- Arms.] I pray
that in it you will bear Count Sture's body to Sweden.
The Man-at-Arms.
It shall be as you command. [To one of the others.]
Haste with these tidings to Jens Bielke. He holds the
road 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 Biorn into the room on the left.
Lady Inger.
[Moves about for a time in uneasy siletice.] 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 m u r d e r e r^ — 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 fushes
the paper away again, and leans back in her chair.
There is ever an eerie feeling 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 should 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.
ACT V] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 181
peaceful as a child's. Why then do I ever see this—
[makes a motion as though striking with a knife] — this stab
in the heart — and the gush of red blood after ? [Rings,
and goes on speaking ivhile 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 mv son will be here
BlORX.
[Entering.] Did you strike the bell, my lady ?
Lady Inger.
[Writing.] Bring more lights. See to it in future that
there are many lights in the room.
[BioRN goes out again to the left.
Lady Inger.
[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 h e in there bethoug-ht 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 to
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 Oaghe.
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.
[BioRN comes in with two lighted branch-candlesticks,
which he places on the tables.
Lady Inger.
[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 ?
BlORN.
They are still screwing down the coffin-lid.
Lady Inger.
[Writing.] Are they screwing it down tight ?
BlORN.
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 up 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 Inger.
[Begins to seal a letter, hut 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 coward, 1 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; sJie 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 walll\ Ay,
if it were the Holy Virgin herself Thinkest thou
now is the time ? W^hy 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 continu£s 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 ivhispers :
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 my own
way. That is why I have had to suffer so much and so
long.
BlORN.
[Comes from the room on the left.] My lady, I have to
tell you — Christ save me — what is this ?
Lady Inger.
[Has climbed up into the high-seat by the right-hand
vjalL] 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 Inger.
Peace, I say! look how the people swarm.
[A funeral hijmn 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 arc my daughters ? I see
them not.
Nils Lykke.
God's blood ! — what has befallen here ?
ACT V] LADY INGER OF OSTRAT 185
Lady Inger.
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 Inger.
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 co7ne out with tJie coffin.
Lady Inger,
[Clutclies at her head and shrieks.] The corpse!
[Whispers.] Pah! 'Tis a hideous dream.
[Sinks back into the high-seat.
Jens Bielke.
[Who has come in from the right, stops and cries in
astojiishment.] Dead! Then after all
One of the Men-at-Arms.
'Twas he himself that
Jens Bielke.
[With a look at Nils Lykke.] He himself ?
186 LADY INGER OF OSTRAT [act v
Nils Lykke.
Hush!
Lady Inger.
[Faintly, coming to herself.] Ay, right; — now I re-
member all.
Jens Bielke.
[To tlie 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 uj)^ 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! [Throivs 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
BlORN.
[Trying to raise her up.] Help! help! My lady—
what ails you ? what lack you ? J J
Lady Inger.
[In a faint voice, half raising herself.] What lack I ?
Une coffin more. A grave beside my child
[Shilcs again, senseless, on the coffin. Nils Lykke
goes hastily out to the right. 'General constertia-
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 Knahen 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.
IDl
192 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG
heroic ballads, a metre possessing as great mobility as the
verse of the Niehelungenlied, 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 Kdtlwhen von Heil-
hronn 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 TJie 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,
v/ho 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
morning. But in the main (though much better than its
successor, Olaf Liliekrans) 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 WROTE 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 months 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 Morgenhlad. 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 Samfundshlad,
and after having frequently listened to the discussions
which went on in Treschow's cafe or at "Inffebret'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 arid 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, they 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 w^ere 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
lono- 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 Kdthclun 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
to 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 von Heilhrunn ? 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
Dyrimfs House is as incontestably and entirely an orig-
inal work by Henrik Hertz as KatJichen von Heilbronn
is an original work by Heinrich von Kleist.
I advance the same claim on my own behalf as re-
gards The Feast at 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
being, 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 lielgeland.
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 t}-pical of the Hfe 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. jNIost 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 HeJgeland, transformed
itself temporarily into the lyric drama, Tlie Feast at Sol-
houg.
The two female charac!:ers, the foster-sisters Hiordis
and Dagny, of the projected tragedy, became the sisters
Margit and Signe of the completed IjtIc 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
Hkewise 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 sestheticians may still, perhaps,
find it disputable whether, in this ending, a touch of
pure tragedy has not been left behind, to testify to the
oriffin 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 SOLHOUG
(1856)
CHARACTERS
Bengt Gauteson, Master of Solhoug
Margit, his wife.
SiGNE, her sister.
GuDMUND Alfson, their kinsman.
Knut Gesling, the King's sheriff.
Erik of Hegge, his friend.
A House-carl.
Another House-carl.
The King's Envoy.
An Old Man.
A Maiden.
Guests, both Men and liADiEs,
Men of Knut Gesling's Train.
Serving-Men and Maidens at Solhoug.
The action passes at Solhoug in the Fourteenth Century.
[Pronunciation of Names: Gndmnwd = Goodmoond. The
g in "Margit" and in "Gesling" is hard, as in "go," or, in
"GesHng," it may be pronounced as y — "Yeshng." 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, icith doors in the hack and to both sides.
In front, on the right, a bay window with small round
panes, set in lead, arid near the window a table, on
which is a quantity of feminine ornaments. Along
the left wall, a longer table witJc silver goblets, beakers
and drinking-horns. The door in the back leads out
to a passage-way,^ through which can be seen a spa-
cious fiord-landscape.
Bengt Gauteson, Margit, Knut Gesling and Erik
OF Hegge are seated around the table on the left. In
the background are Knut's followers, some seated,
some standing; one or two flagons of ale are handed
round among them. Far off are heard church bells.
ringing to Mass.
Erik.
[Rising at the table.] 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 us
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.
Margit.
And doubtless my sister could choose her no doughtier
mate —
Bengt.
None doughtier; that is what I say too.
Margit.
— 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.
With 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 heart long to lie
Still in the grave, I ween.
Erik.
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
Margit.
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-feasting 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.
Margit.
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 husband.
212 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i
Margit.
[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.
Knut.
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!
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.
Margit.
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 [act i
Bengt.
Neither on your axe, nor on your knife, nor on any
other weapon whatsoever.
Margit.
For then can you never hope to be one of our kindred!
Bengt.
Nay, that is our firm resolve.
Knut.
[To Margit.] 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 Erik, with their men, go out at the back.
[Bengt accompanies them to the door. The sound of
the bells 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.
Margit.
[With a weary smile.] 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 r
Margit.
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,
Siiiks down on a chair hy 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 slie cannot repress.
He is my husband! lam his 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 myself I am decking —
But oh, if to-day were my burial-feast,
'Twerc little that I'd be recking. [Breaking off.
But if thus I brood 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 days 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 Kirslen 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 vi^ear.
— 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 waiting 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 —
And the words and the thoughts they haunt me yet.
[Stops horror-struck.
218 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i
Rinss of red ijold! 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 171 from
the back.
SlGNJ^.
[Calling.] Margit, Margit, — he is coming!
Margit.
[Starting up.] Coming ? Who is coming ?
SiGNE.
Gudmund, our kinsman!
Margit.
Gudmund Alfson! Here! How can you think — ?
SiGNE.
Oh, I am sure of it.
Margit.
[Crosses to the rigid.] 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
SiGXE.
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 staved 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.
Margit,
Go on.
SiGNE.
They crossed themselves, women and men;
[Pressing Jier hands to her breast.
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.
Margit.
And you think that it may be — ?
SiGNic.
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 wnll polish bright,
And tune them to ring and to sing with his song.
Margit.
[Absently.]
Do as you will —
SiGXE.
[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 Jierself.]
So much has changed — ah, so much! — since then —
SiGNE.
Margit, you shall be happy and gay I
Have vou not serving-maids manv, and thralls ?
Costly robes hang in rows on your chamber walls;
How rich vou are, none can sav.
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.
[Loolxing towards the window.']
And he comes to Solhoug ! He, as a guest !
222 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i
SiGNE.
What say you ?
Margit.
[Tur7iing.]
Naught. — Deck you out in your best.
That fortune which seemeth to you so bright
May await yourself.
SiGNE.
Margit, say what you mean!
Margit.
[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 ?
Margit.
For you.
SiGNE.
\Laughing .1
For me ?
That he'd ta'en the wrong road full soon he would see.
Margit.
What would you say if a valiant knight
Begged for your hand ?
Signe.
That my heart was too light
To think upon suitors or choose a mate.
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 223
Margit.
But if he were mighty, and rich, and great?
SiGXE.
Oh, were he a king, did his palace hold
Stores of rich garments and ruddy gold,
'Twould ne'er set mv 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 tlw left, singing.
Margit.
[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 tfie back.
Bengt.
[Entering, calls loudly.] An unlooked-for guest, my
wife!
Margit.
What guest?
224 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i
Bengt.
Your kinsman, Gudmund Alfson! [Calls through the
doorway on the right.] Let the best guest-room be pre-
pared — and that forthwith!
Margit.
Is he, then, ah-eady here ?
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
Margit.] His shield-bearer brings a message of greet-
ing from him; and he himself is close behind.
Margit.
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 hack.] 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 Jiustily out to the hack.
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 maids, 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-strings into my hair.
All my jewels and gauds bear away with ye!
[The handmaids go out to tJie left, taking the orna-
ments ivith them.
Since Margit the Hill-King's bride must be.
Well! don we the queenly livery!
[SJie 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 — i s 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.
ACT I] 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 —
[Margit 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 noio
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, Margit, of what are you thinking ?
I told you but a moment agone that your kinsman —
Margit.
[Crossing to tlie table on the right.] Twelve years is a
long time, Gudmund. The freshest plant may wither
ten times over in that space.
228 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i
GUDMUND.
'Tis seven years since last we met.
Margit.
Surely it must be more than that!
GuDMUND.
[Looking at her.] I could almost think so. But 'tis
as I say.
Margit.
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.
[Interruptiiig.] My kinsman has already heard it.
[To GuDMUND.] Will you not lay aside your cloak?
GUDMUXD.
I thank you, Dame Margit; but it seems to me cold
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.
Margit.
[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 Margit,
caressing her.] Content you; I shall soon be with you
again. [He goes out to the back.
Margit.
[To herself.] Oh, torture, to have to endure it all.
[A short silence.
Gudmund.
How goes it, I pray, with your sister dear ?
Margit.
Right well, I thank you.
Gudmund.
They said she was here
With you.
230 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i
Margit.
She has been here ever since we —
[Breaks off.
She 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 ?
Margit.
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.
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 231
Margit.
[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.
\y ehemently .]
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 —
232 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i
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 ?
[Bowing, and about to go.
God's peace and farewell, then, my noble dame!
Margit.
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 ?
Margit.
[Terror-struck.]
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 my 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 [act i
Margit.
[Holding him back.]
Outlawed! Nay, stay! I swear to you
That naught of your outlawry I knew.
GUDMUND.
It is as I tell vou. Mv life's at stake;
And to live are all men fain.
Three nights like a dog 'neath the skv I've lain.
My couch on the hillside forced to make.
With for pilloAV 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;
Trulv I hold it scarce worth a thought.
ACT I] 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!
Margit.
Nay, Gudmund, hear!
By all that is holy — !
Gudmund.
Live on as before
Live on in honour and joyance —
Never shall Gudmund darken vour door.
Never shall cause you 'noyance.
Margit.
Enough, enough. Your bitterness
You presently shall rue.
Had I known you outlawed, shelterless.
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 !
GUDMUXD.
What say you — } How shall I read your mind ?
Margit.
[Holding out her hand to him.]
Read this: that at Solhoug dwell kinsfolk kind.
Gudmund.
But you said of late — ?
236 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act
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 care!
Our house was lowly and scant our store;
But treasures of hope in my breast I bore.
GUDMUND.
[Whose eyes have been fixed upon Jier.J
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 Bcngt 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 never 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 you were the last that the truth must know.
GuDMUND.
[Moved.]
'Twas therefore, then, that you turned away —
238 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i
Margit.
[Not looking at him.]
I thought you came at my woe to jeer.
GUDMUND.
Margit, how could you think — ?
Margit.
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.
[Siniling.]
Nay, now I'm at home;
Hither the King's men scarce dare come.
Margit.
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 hright.
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 leas.
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 — ?
Margit.
GUDMUND.
I arose, and they vanished apace;
All was silent, fore and aft; —
[Producing a small phial.
But this I found by their resting place.
240 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG act i
Margit.
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 — ?
Margit.
GuDMUND.
That draught was meant for the King.
Margit.
Great God!
GuDMUND.
[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 —
Margit.
Aye, but at Solhoug he
Cannot harm you. All as of old will be.
GUDMUNI).
All ? Nay, Margit — you then were free.
ACT I] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 241
iVlARGIT.
You mean — ?
GUDMUND.
I ? Nay, I meant naught. My brain
Is wildered; but ah, I am bhthe and fain
To be, as of old, with vou sisters twain.
But tell me, — Signe — ?
Margit.
[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 knows me again.
[He goes out to tJie left.
Margit.
[Folloicing him with her eyes.] How fair and manlike
he is! [With a sigh.] There is little likeness 'twixt him
and — [Begins pidting things in order on tJie table, hut
presently stops.] "You then were free," he said. Yes,
then! [A sJwrt pause.] 'Twas a strange tale, that of
the Princess who — She held another dear, and then —
Ave, 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
242 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act i
with me to Solhoug. [Putting the goblet away in a cup-
hoard.] 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, aiid after her Gudmund, enters from the left.
SiGNE.
\Runs laughing up to IMargit.]
ria, ha, ha! He will not believe that 'tis I!
Margit.
[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 SiGNii'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
GUDMUND.
[To himself.]
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!
Gudmund.
[Softly, as hefolloics 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 tlie 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.
Margit.
[Looking out at the back.]
Our guests are coming.
SiGNE.
[While 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 Httle birds quavered in bush and in brere;
The Httle 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 toivards
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.
Margit.
[Absently.] Did you speak to me.' — I heard not
clearly — ?
SiGNE.
I ? No, no- I only meant —
[Slie again becovies absorbed in dreams.
Margit.
[Half aloud; looking straight before Iter.]
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—?
Margit.
[Drawing her hand over her hrow.] 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 tlie hack, a footpath leads up the
hillside. To the right of the footpath a river comes
tumbling down a ravine and loses itself among
boidders 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.
[Singiyig 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 Erik op Hegge 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 SOLHOUG 247
Erik.
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?
Erik.
[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 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii
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 SOLHOUG 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 mood.
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 trod.
And wakened once more to her faith and her God.
GUDMUND.
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 THE 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 cheek
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.
GuDMUND.
There will you stay?
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 251
SiGXE.
Till vou come agrain.
[She goes out to the right. Gudmund goes into the
house.
[Margit enters from behind the house on the left.
Margit.
In the hall there is gladness and revelrv;
The dancers foot it with jest and glee.
The air weighed hot on my brow and breast;
For Gudmund, he was not there.
[She drau-s 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 cup.
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
Softlv over the marshes wide ?
252 THE 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 ?
Margit.
That I could be
The nixie that haunts yonder upland lea.
How cunningly I should weave my spell!
Trust me — !
GuDMUND.
Margit, what ails you.'' Tell!
Margit.
[Paying no heed to him.]
How I should quaver my magic lay!
Quaver and croon it both night and day!
[Uith 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 SOLHOUG 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 vou 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 you 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 THE 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.
Margit.
The phial! You meant — ?
GUDMUND.
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.
[Is about to throw the phial against a rock.
Margit.
[Seizing his arm.]
Nay, hold! Let me have it —
GUDMUND.
First tell me why ?
Margit.
I'd fain fling it down to the neckan hard by,
Who so often has made my dull hours fleet
With his harping and songs, so strange and sweet.
Give it me! [Takes the phial from his hand.
There ! [Feigns to throw it into the river.
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 255
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 sJie 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 ?
Margit.
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 ?
25Q THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii
GUDMUND.
[Looks searchingJy at her.]
I scarce can say.
Margit,
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.
GUDMUXD.
[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!
GuDMUND.
Then, wot you well.
The joy of my life now rests with you —
Margit,
\\\''ith an outburst.]
Gudmund!
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 Alfson! Wait; I must
speak a word with you.
[He stops, talking to Erik. The other Guests in
tlie meantime enter the house.
Margit.
[To herself .] The joy of his life— ! What else can he
mean but—! [Half aloud.] Signe— my dear, dear sister!
[She puts her arm round Signe 's waist, and they go
towards the hack 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 Erik.] Yes, yes, I say, Gudmund is her
kinsman; he can best plead my cause.
Erik.
Well, as you will. [He goes into the Iiouse.
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 ii
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 tlie back.
SiGNis.
[To Margit, 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 ?
Margit.
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 — ?
Margit.
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.
ACT II] 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 wrath — 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 Margit again advance.] But tell me then,
Margit — !
Margit.
More I dare not tell you.
260 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii
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 ?
Margit.
Concerning you ? Nay, what should that be ?
SiGNE.
\As before, looking downwards.] You said to me this
morning: if a wooer came riding hither — ?
Margit.
That is true, [To herself] Knut GesHng — has he
already — ? [Eagerly, to Signe.] Well ? What then ?
SiGNE.
[Softly, but with exidtation.] The wooer has come!
He has come, Margit! I knew not then whom you
meant; but now — !
Margit.
And what have you answered him ?
Signe.
Oh, how should I know ? [Flinging her arms round
Jier 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.
Margit.
Why, Signe, Signe, I cannot understand that you should
so quickly — ! You scarce knew him before to-day.
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG ^61
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 —
Margit.
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 Gudmund
approaching.
Knut.
[In a tone of satisfaction.] Ha, this is as I would have
it, Gudmund. Here is my hand!
Margit.
[To herself] What is this.?
Gudmund.
[To Knut.J 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 boar her home this very night, if it
be needful.
262 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii
Margit.
[Who has approached unobserved.] All saints in
heaven !
GUDMUND.
[Nods to Knut.] The same is my intent!
SiGNE.
[WIw 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.
[Likewise.] No, mine!
Margit.
[Softly, half bewildered.] Signe!
Gudmund.
[As before, to Knut.] What mean you by that ?
Knut.
I mean that 'tis Signe whom I —
Gudmund.
Sif^ne! Signe is my betrothed in the sight of God.
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 263
Margit.
[With a cry.] It was she! No — no!
GUDMUND.
[To himself , as lie catcJies sight of Jier.] Margit! She
has heard everything.
Knut.
Ho, ho ! 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 SiGXE.] But not a moment ago you said — ?
[Suddenly grasping the situation.] 'Twas Gudmund you
meant !
SiGNE.
[Asto7iished.] Yes, did you not know it! But what
ails you, Margit ?
Margit.
[In an almost toneless voice.] Nay, nothing, nothing.
Kntjt.
[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 [act ii
SiGNE.
[ To Margit.] He ? Was this the wooer that was
in your mind ?
Margit.
Hush, hush!
Knut.
[Firmly and harshly.^ Dame Margit — you are her
elder sister; you shall give me an answer.
Margit.
[Battling ivith 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 you a bloody sconce.
Signe.
[In terror.] Gudmund! By all the saints — I
Knut.
Gently, gently, Gudmund Alfson! Ere sunrise you
shall be in my power. And she — your lady-love —
[Goes up to tJw door, beckons and calls in a low voice.]
ACT II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 2G5
Erik! Erik! come hither! we must away to our kins-
folk. [Threatenmgly, 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 GuDMUND.] Oh, tell me, what does all this
mean ?
GuDMUND.
[Whispering.] We must both leave Solhoug this very
night.
SiGNE,
God shield me — you would — !
GUDMUND.
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,
Wliile the birds are asleep in the greenwood shade.
How sweet to sport in the flowery glade
'Neath the birches.
2Q6 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ii
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!
Another Guest.
Nay, let that be; it leads but to strife at the feast.
[Loweriiig his voice.] Bear in mind that Knut Gesling
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 II] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 267
Margit,
Alas! I have forgot them all. But ask Gudmund
x\lfson, 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 look back — the huldra sits 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. [Slie crosses to the rigid.]
SiGNE.
Oh, God! Oh, God!
Bengt.
[Going around among th-e 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 Guests.] 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.
Margit lea?is 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 toivards the
Girls.] Aye, aye, doubtless each has his own.
Bengt.
[MaJcing eyes at Margit.] Yes, I have mine, that is
sure enough. Ha, ha, hu!
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 oyer. [Turyis to the Gvest^.] 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.
[7*0 himself.] Saints in heayen, surely she would
not — !
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 passion.
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
against the trunk of a tree.
SiGXE.
[Weeping, has rushed up to Iter, and takes Iter in her
arms.'\ Margit! My sister!
GUDMUND.
[At the same time supporting her.] Help! Help! she
is dying!
[Bengt and the GvESTsfock round tJiem with cries
of alarm.
ACT THIRD
The hall at Solhoug as before, but now in disorder after
the feast. It is night still, but ivith a glimmer of ap-
proaching dawn in the room and over the landscape
loithout.
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.
[Margit 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.
Margit.
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, arid 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,
W^atch 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 lier 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 fur ward, brooding silently.
Signe, my sister — ? How hateful 'twere
ACT III] 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 rapture,
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, with the empty beaker in his hand, comes in
from the passage-way; his face is red; he staggers
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 Margit.] Eh, are you there ? You are
well again. Good, good.
Margit.
[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 [act hi
gates. But what became of Knut Gesling to-night? —
Give me mead, Margit! I am thirsty. Fill this cup.
[Margit fetches a flagon of -mead from, a cupboard.
and fills the goblet which is on the table in front of
him.
Margit.
[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.
Margit.
He used worse words when he left to-night.
Bengt.
He did ? So much the better. I will strike him dead.
Margit.
[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.
Margit.
[7^0 herself.] Oh, to have to live with him!
[Is in the act of leaving the room.
ACT III] THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG 277
Bengt.
Margit, come here! Fill my cup again. [She ap-
proaches; he tries to draw her doicn on to his knee.] Ha,
ha, ha ! You are right fair, Margit ! I love you well !
Margit.
{Freeing herself.'] Let me go!
\Crosses, with the goblet in her hand, to tJie left.
Bengt.
You are not in the humour to-night. Ha, ha, ha!
That means no great matter, I know.
Margit.
[Softly, as she fills the goblet.] Oh, that this might be
the last beaker I should fill for vou.
[She leaves tJie goblet on the table and is making Jier
way out to tJie 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.
Margit.
[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 3'ou not been the mistress of Solhouij.
278 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act hi
Margit.
[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!
Margit.
[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 loith scared looks,
from the back.
280 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act ni
House-Carl.
[Calls.] 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-Carl.
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-Carl go out at the hack.
[Soon after, Gudmund and Signe enter quietly and
cautiously by the door on the right.
Signe.
[In muffled 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.
SlGNIS.
[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 tlie goblet into her hands.
282 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act hi
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 the back.
Signe.
List, Gudmund! Voices and trampling feet!
GUDMUND.
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.
[Margit comes 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!
Margit.
[Catches sight of them.] Gudmund! And Signe! Are
you here ?
Signe.
[Going towards her.] Margit — dear sister!
Margit.
[Appalled, having seen the goblet which Gudmund still
holds in his haiid.] 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 doivn the gohlet.] Margit — !
Signe.
What ails you, sister ?
Margit.
[Towards the back.] Help, help ! Will no one help ?
[A House-Carl rushes in from the passage-way.
284 THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG [act hi
House-Carl.
[Calls in a terrified voice.] Lady Margit! Your hus-
band — !
Margit.
He — has he, too, drunk — !
GUDMUND.
[To himself.] Ah! now I understand —
House-Carl.
Knut Gesling has slain him.
SiGNE.
Slain!
GuDMUND.
[Drawing his sword.] Not yet, I hope. [Whispers to
Margit.] Fear not. No one has drunk from your
goblet.
Margit.
Then thanks be to God, who has saved us all!
[She sinks down on a chair to the left. Gudmund
hastens toicards tlie door at the hack.
Another House-Carl.
[Enters, stoppirig 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 v^en, and a number of Guests and
House-Carls, lead in Knut Gesling, Erik of
Hegge, and several o/'Knut's men, hound.
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?
Erik.
'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 hi
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!
Margit.
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-Carl appears in the doorway at the back.
ACT III] 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
Margit.
[Placing herself between Gudmund and SigneJ
Thus punishment treads on the heels of crime!
Protecting angels, loving and bright,
Have looked down in mercv on me to-nieht.
And come to my rescue while vet 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 aTid Signe follow her, she
stops tJiem with a motion of her hand, goes out,
a7id shuts the door behind her. At this moment
the sun rises and sheds its light into the hull.
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 hi
Chorus of Men and Women.
Over earth keeps watch the eye of Hght,
Guardeth lovingly the good man's ways,
Sheddeth round him its consoling rays; —
Praise be to the Lord in heaven's height!
LOVE'S COMEDY
LOVE'S COMEDY
INTRODUCTION
Kfrrlighedens 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-
233
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,
vrho 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 autocratic Dane did not pre-
vent its author from commemorating him, upon his
death three years later, in a noble dirge. 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 immeasurably 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 survive, this Ibsenian 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
Ilenrik Ibsen at llie ajre of thirtv
INTRODUCTION 297
and 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 marriage 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
purblind 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 came of them; his own happy
marriage in the same year not improbably casting a little
unphilosophical glamour over the state 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 pubhcation 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 deHght.
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, as has been said, that the Danish
poets retained his admiration, even when, in Peer Gijnt,
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 SolJioug (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 liim
by a brilliant piece of contemporary criticism which he is
known to have read, Moller'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 efflorescence 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:
Guld. 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 amihing } 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 stvle 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, but 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 take their temper from the speaker's
mood.
But the development of the prose draft went far be-
yond style. Motives there just hinted are expanded into
scenes, and the too closely packed dramatic ideas acquire
their 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 Svanhild, 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 Verlohung, 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 talc of daughters or of nieces
safely married off under her auspices; or, again, the
embarrassments incident to a prolonged Brautstand fol-
lowing a hasty wooing, the deadly effect of familiarity
upon a shallow affection, and the anxious efforts to save
the appearance of romance when its zest has departed —
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 Collett, in her novel the OjfficiaVs 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 types 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 Guldstad. 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 chorus 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 arid of unflinching matter of fact. Guld-
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 master 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— result from a fusion of versions made inde-
pendently by us both. /-. tt rr
C H. H.
LOVE'S COMEDY
PERSONS OF THE COMEDY
Mrs. Halm, widow of a government official.
SVANHILD, "I , , 7^
. > tier daughters.
Anna, J ^
Falk, a younq avtlwr, 1 , , ,
T J- ■ -I a J 1 r 'if'* boarders.
LiiND, a divinuy student, J
GuLDSTAD, a wholesale raerchant.
Stiver, a law-clerk.
Miss Jay, his fiancee.
Strawman, a country clergyman.
Mrs. Strawman, his xcife.
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 Chris-
fi/int/i.
tiania
LOVE'S COMEDY
PLAY m THREE ACTS
ACT FIRST
The Scene represents a pretty garden irregularly but
tastefully laid out; in the background are seen tlie
fjord and the islands. To the left is the house, with
a verandah arul 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, Mrs. Halm, Anna, and Miss
Jay are sitting on the verandah, the first two engaged
in embroidery, the last ivith 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 made for thy delight:
What though promises of May-day
Be annulled by Autumn's blight?
.^07
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.
Chorus 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.
Chorus.
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, "Time is flying; — "
Soon our garden music's mute.
Chorus.
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,
All 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!
Chorus.
I have plucked the flower, etc.
[They clink arid 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 thinff.
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 [act i
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.
ACTi] 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 engaged— I hold official station—
That's better than in love, I apprehend!
Falk.
Quite so! You're in the right, my good old friend.
The worst is past — vous voila hien avancs^—
Promoted from mere lover io 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 Falk.
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,
Isly fiancee — she became so in the end —
For then she was —
Falk.
Your love and nothing more.
Stiver.
\Continuing.'\
'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 favour!
Falk.
And you felt bigger, as you wrote, and braver.
To find you'd brought your venture safe to land !
314 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i
Stiver.
Of course
Falk.
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 for New Year's Day,
I make the veriest hash of rhyme and metre.
And — 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 315
Falk.
Oh, next, 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," "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 feehng 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,
Suppose that you to-day should write a sonnet.
And, 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
ACT I] 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 perhaps, 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 Jiis glass and exchanges a glance, unob-
served, ivith 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 [act i
Falk.
[Looks at him with surprise and emotion, but assumes a
light tone.]
Behold, fair ladies! though you scorn me quite,
Here 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 —
ACT I] 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, w^orse luck, it hasn't heeded.
Miss Jay.
What levity!
Mrs. Halm.
Yes, most irreverent!
Falk,
Pray don't imagine it was my intent
To live 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 tJie 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 —
ACTi] 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 ?
GuLDSTAD.
[Filling tJie 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 tJie verandah.
Falk.
What ! have we parsons coming ?
Miss Jay.
Don't you know ?
322 LOVE'S COMEDY [acti
Mrs. Halm.
I told you, just a little while ago —
Anna.
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 Straw^man, 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 323
Mrs. 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.
324 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i
Miss Jay.
[Conti?iuing.]
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— he 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 wrote —
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.
[Contitiuing.]
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 made their catch.
Sh£ 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 [act i
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 Hps 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 lass!
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 report '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 cattle, I presume.
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
Mrs. 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.
Mrs. Halm.
[Rising.]
How if we should go out upon the lawn,
And see if there's no prospect of them yet ?
Miss Jay.
[Draiving 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, stojjs and returns.
LiND.
My friend !
ACT I] 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*ve snared and taken Fortune'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.
[Quickhj.]
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, Falk, what I ventured for a bride!
She listened, — and I rather think she cried;
That, sure, means "Yes"?
Falk.
If precedents decide;
Go on.
LiND.
And so we really are — 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.
[Radiantly f in a mysterious 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!
ACTi] LOVE'S COMEDY 333
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 will not 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?
SSi LOVE'S COMEDY [act i
LiND.
Thought ?
I ? — thought about the future ? No, from this
Time forth I Uve 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!
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 wildest flight, I 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 mountain 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 with 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. 1
You gaze so at me ?
Falk.
[Half to himself. 1
Yes, 'tis there — the same;
The shadow in her eyes' deep mirror sleeping,
336 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i
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.
[LaugJiing.]
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
ACT I] 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.
338 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.]
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 339
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.'l
Where is the Valkyria ?
SVANHILD.
[Shaking Iter Iiead.]
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 tJwughtful sympathy.]
You seem to be two natures, still at feud, —
Unreconciled —
Falk.
I know it well.
SVANHILD.
[Impetuously .]
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. —
[SJie goes to the suminer-house and looks out;
lie 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 songlcss 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 throivs 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.
Havel?
Falk.
Yes, for you have slain
My young, high-hearted, joyous exultation —
[ Co ntemptuously .
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 —
Falk.
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 goes 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: " Quallais-tu /aire dans cette galere?"
Stiver.
Is courtship a "galere ?"
Falk.
No, married lives; —
All servitude, captivity, and gyves.
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 345
Stiver.
[Seeing Miss Jay approach.]
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?
Stiver.
[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 —
346 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i
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 oflBce 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 I] 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.
[Sighitig.]
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 icithdraw in different directions.
Falk.
[Loolcing 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 [act i
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 day
He's worked a perfect little Idyll out.
GULDSTAD.
[Slily.]
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.
[STniling.]
The poet's vein is catching, it would seem.
Falk.
Really ? How so, pray ?
Guldstad.
Since I also pore
And ponder over a poetic scheme, —
[My Seriously.
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. 1
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 [act i
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;
We'll go this very moment and confess.
[Theij approach Mrs. Halm, who is standing
with Miss Jay hy the house.
GuLDSTAD.
[Conversing with Stiver.]
'Tis a fine evening.
A man's disposed —
Stiver.
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
What love is, all is over with their love.
Guldstad.
[To Stiver.]
But if there's matter for adjustment, pray
Let's hear it.
Soi LOVES COMEDY [acti
Sttteb.
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 ricrht tou 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.
Y'ou've had to wince
Beneath a crushing load of obHgations
That vou'd send packing, if good form permitted.
That's what's the matter.
STrmE.
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 vour vouth's heaven once again is blue.
There rang an echo from your old song-life I
That's how it is: I read you thro' and thro';
Wings, wings were all you wanted, — and a knife!
Stivze.
A knife ?
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 358
Falk.
Yes. Resolution's knife, to sever
Each captive bond, and set you free for ever.
To soar —
Stiver.
[Angrily.]
Nav. now vou're insolent bevond
Endurance! Me to charij^e with violation
Of law. — me. me with plotting to abscond!
It's libellous, malicious defamation.
Insult and calumnv —
Falk.
Are you insane ?
What is all this about? Explain! Explain!
CJuLTtSTAD.
[Laugln'ngh/ to Stiver.]
Yes, clear your mind of all this balderdash!
What do vou want ?
Stiver.
[Pulling himself together.]
A trifling loan in cash.
Falk.
A loan!
Stiver.
[Hurrirdly to Guldstad.]
That is, I mean to sav, vou know,
A voucher for a ten pouml note, or so.
354 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i
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 himself.]
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.
ACTi] 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
x\ll 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 [act i
Falk.
Only this;
That inasmuch as you appeared to feed
Fond expectations of your own —
GULDSTAD.
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.
That sister, yes, 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.
GuLDSTAD.
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 rve-seed, canopied secure
By frost and snow, invisibly they sprout.
GuLDSTAD.
Then in the festive ball-room bedded out—
Falk.
With equivoque and scandal for manure —
GuLDSTAD.
And when the April sun shines —
358 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.
LiND.
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. 1
That'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 ?
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY 359
Falk.
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 !
Mrs. Halm.
Now see a man of might!
360 LOVE'S COMEDY [act i
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. Strawman, his wife, and
eight little girls, all in travelling dress, enter
one by one.
Mrs, Halm.
[Advancing to meet them.]
Welcome, a hearty welcome!
Strawman.
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 [act i
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!
Mrs. Halm.
Well, then, good-night. ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^^^
Now friends, what would you say
To drinking tea ?
[To Mrs. 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 looking!
Stiver.
\Crossly.]
Yes, I see;
I'm thinking of the promissory notes.
{They go out to the left. Falk, %vho has been
continuously watching Strawman and his
icife, remains behind alone in the garden.
It is nolo 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
Jiowering 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 pseans of glad song — !
Look at him now! In solemn robes and 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 puff of smoke's the end!
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 thoughts that master, vou 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 —
ACT I] 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;
Checked 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.
366 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 —
Talk.
Your mother nodded to your untouched cup:
"Drink, Svanhild dear, before your tea grows «
ACT I] LOVE'S COMEDY
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 direful fantasy;
But 'tis your least achievement, past dispute.
To hear the spirit speaking, when 'tis mute. '
Falk.
[With emotion.
Nay, Svanhild, do not jest: behind your scoff
Tears glitter,— O, I see them plain enough.
And I see more: when you to dust are frav'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.
367
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 W'oman 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, withdravnng her hand.]
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 — if 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 tJie 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:
I 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 dgar,
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
draiving 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 fists 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?
ACT I] 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 besought 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:
Chorus.
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 chill;
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 goinor 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.
Now 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 windoia
and draws down the blind.
Falk.
No, first I'll act. I've slept too long and late.
[Looks up at Svanhild's icindow, 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 Chorus is heard again.
Chorus.
Maybe I shall shatter my roaming bark.
But it's passing sweet to be roaming!
[The boat slowly glides aivay 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
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 377
Another Lady.
[In tJie door ic ay.]
Dear Anna, did he ask in writing?
An Aunt.
No!
Mine did.
Miss Jay.
A Lady.
[On the verandah.]
How long has it been secret, dear ?
[Runs i7ito tiie room.
Miss Jay.
To-morrow there will be the ring to choose.
Ladies.
[Eager! I/.]
We'll take his measure!
Miss Jay.
Nay; that she must do.
Mrs. Strawman.
[On the verandah, to a lady who is busy with embroidery.]
What kind of knitting-needles do you use ?
A Servant.
[In the door with a coffee-pot.]
More coffee, madam ?
378 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii
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 tvindow.]
When shall we go and order the trousseau ?
Mrs. Strawman.
How 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 doorivay.]
O, stuff and nonsense! [Disappears.
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 379
Miss Jay.
Yes, I saw it clearly.
Stiver.
[In the door, ivith 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 Jay.
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,—
}80 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii
He got his twenty days of bread and water;
But these — these butchers yonder — they go free.
[Clenches his jist.
I could be tempted — ; hold, words have no worth,
I've sworn it, action only from henceforth!
LiND.
\Co7ning hastily hut cautiously outi\
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 suffice.
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 ?
ACTiiJ 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 all the ti^me—
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 Jay.
[To Falk.]
That was he surelv.'
Falk.
Yes, your hunted deer.
382 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.
^Yell, 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 — ?
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY 333
Ladies.
O you laugh! You're fooling us!
Falk.
Fm in grim earnest. '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'
Anna, 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 Strawman, his wife and children.
Stiver, Guldstad, Mrs. Halai 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 ii
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 II] 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! r^ ? a »
[ Takes 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 stops Strawman, whose xcife
and children keep close to him. Guldstad
goes to and fro duri?ig the following conver-
sation.
Falk.
Come, pastor, help young fervour in its fight,
Before they lure Miss Anna from her vows.
Strawman.
[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 — investable —
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!
Strawman.
[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.
Strawman.
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.
Strawman.
" 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. Strawman.
[Looking towards the backgroujid.]
They're sitting there.
Falk.
[After staring a moment in amazement, suddenly under-
stands and bursts out laughing.]
Hurrah for Offerings — the ones that caper
And strut — on Holy-days— in bulging paper!
Strawman.
All the year round the curb and bit we bear,
But Whitsuntide and Christmas make things square.
Falk.
[Gaily.]
Why then, provided only there's enough of it,
Even family-founders will obey their Calls.
Strawman.
Of course; a man assured the quaiitum suff. of it
Will preach the Gospel to the cannibals.
•fc' [Sotto voce.
88 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii
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
icife 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, ivho comes in from the right.
Ha, Lind!
LiND.
In Heaven's name, who's been ravaging
Our sanctum .'' There 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 poctising'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.
LlND,
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 mv desk.
390 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii
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 sails —
Falk.
Very good !
LiND.
In the forenoons I will enjoy my bliss;
That I am quite resolved on —
Falk.
LiND.
Daring man!
I have my round of visits to the clan;
Time will run anyhow to waste in this;
ACT II] 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 my fiancee. Every pHghted 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 —
Falk.
Prithee spare
The comment; who supplied it?
LiND.
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 II] 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 Strawman has been
seen from time to time walking in the back-
ground in lively conversation with Anna;
Mrs. Strawman and the children follow.
Miss Jay noiv appears also, and with lier
Mrs. Halm and otJier ladies.
Miss Jay.
[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 —
Mrs. Strawman.
It's treasure such a dream prognosticates.
Miss Jay.
[Nodding i\
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 11] 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 absolutelv inexcusable.
Anna.
[Half crying.]
Oh! I'm so young —
Strawman.
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 [act ii
Falk.
[Sotto voce to Strawman.]
Bravo, you able
Persuader.
Strawman.
[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 loiver tone, as lie withdraws
ivith Anna.
[Miss Jay ayid 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.
All, 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 — .'
[Modestbj.
If in some small degree my words have sped.
Power was vouchsafed me — !
Mrs. Halm.
Come, no more 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 sig-ht!
It is so thrilling and so penetrating,
So lacerating, so exhilarating.
To see an innocent babe devoutly lay
Its offering 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 fiend of wedded strife.
Strawman.
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 II] LOVE'S COMEDY 399
Anna.
[Amazed.]
You stay ?
LiND.
[Equally so.]
You go with me ?
Anna.
[With a helpless glatice 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 —
Strawman
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 [actii
Strawman.
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 Stiver, who have been walking
in the garden and now approach.]
The spirit of discord's in possession here.
[Talks aside to them.
Mrs. Strawman.
[To Miss Jay, noticing that the table is being laid.]
There comes the tea.
Miss Jay.
[Curthj.]
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 —
401
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY
Miss Jay.
Doubtless, but does that help us to agree ?
Strawman.
She must obey a law that heaven dictated.
Stiver.
But Lind cau circumvent that law, you see.
[To Lind.
Put oflF your journey, and then— budge no jot.
Aunts.
[Delighted.]
Yes, that's the way.
Mrs. 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.
Tlie 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 thei,
drink tea.
Mrs. Halm.
[^miling^
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. Strawman.
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.
I/IND.
It is the bluebell, — ringing in for all
Young hearts life's joyous Whitsun festival.
Mrs. Halm.
No, 'tis an evergreen, — as fresh and gay
In desolate December as in May.
404 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii
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. Strawman.
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 flowerp o t is a likelier candidate.
There's only room in it, at once, for one;
But by progressive stages it holds eight.
Strawman.
[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 —
The Ladies.
Ah, it's the tea-plant!
Falk.
Yes.
Mrs. Strawman.
His voice is so
Like Strawman's when he —
Strawman.
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 —
Straw^man.
Past question antecedent to Jerusalem.
Falk.
Yes, 'twas already famous when Methusalem
His 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 Bey rout.
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. Strawman.
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 deal 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.
[Sharphj.]
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
409
ACT II] LOVE'S COMEDY
Our Love by way of Freedom's ocean wave!
I' Good heavens, his moral savour's passed away,
"And quite dispersed LegaHty'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 tlie 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 [act ii
Miss Jay.
A very odd expression! "Dead" indeed!
The Ladies.
To say that Love is dead — !
Strawman.
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 to deny;
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 LO^^E'S COMEDY - [act n
Strawman".
Well, all in moderation; I must o-^n.
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 entirelv differ. In mv 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.
AXNA.
[Warmly.]
O no — Love's bond when it is fresh and young
Is of a stuff more precious and more strong.
LiND.
[Thoughtfully.]
Possibly the ideal flower may blow.
Even as that snowdrop, — hidden by the snow.
Falk.
[With a gvdden oiUburgt.]
You fallen Adam! There a heart was cleft
With longing for the Eden it has left I
Acxn] LOVE'S COMEDY 413
LiXD.
What stuff!
Mks. Haij^.
[OJ^nd/^, to Falk. n\v{ng.]
'Tis not a verr friendlv act
To stir a quarrel where we've made a peace.
As for vour friend's j^xhI fortune, be at ease —
Some Ladies.
Nay that's assured —
Others.
A very certain fact.
Mrs. Halm.
The cooking-class at school. I must confess.
She did not take; but she shall learn it still.
Miss Jay.
With her own hands she's trimming hex own dre>ss.
Ax ArxT.
[Patting Anna's ^<i.nJ.]
And growing exquisitely sensible.
Faix.
[Lamghirig ahuii.]
O parody of sense, that ri>'Te'S and ivnds
In maniac dance upon tlie lips of friends!
Was it gootl sense he wanted .- Or a she-
Professor of tlie lore of Cookerv ^
414 LOVE'S COMEDY [act n
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.
O 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;
I 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 ?
How!
guldstad.
Miss Jay.
Mr. Falk!
LiND.
Are you resolved to sow
Dissension ?
Falk.
[Vehemently.]
Yes, war, discord, turmoil, strife!
Stiver.
What you, a lay, 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 [actii
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 ryhme!
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 !
Strawman.
Young man, this insolence has gone too far!
In every word there's scoffing and defiance.
[Goes 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 loith 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 —
And a gazette!
GULDSTAD.
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;
ACTii] 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 fancv'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 Love 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 [actii
Strawman.
[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.
Strawman.
That I have ever swerved a single jot
From social prescript, — is a monstrous lie.
Falk.
Good.
[Clapping Stiver 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—!
Falk.
Your office has averred it anyhow.
ACT II] 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 how as Mrs. Halm and the company withdraw. 1
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 Mollie down to Millie, in one breath.
Crow on, crow on — Emancipation's cock, —
[Goes in, followed hy 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 Jay.
[ 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.
I likewise.
LiND.
Falk.
[Seriously.]
You too, my Lind ?
LiND.
Farewell.
Falk.
You were my nearest one —
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!
ACTiiJ 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 [act ii
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,
Tho' 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 inaudibly.]
If we should fail — !
426 LOVE'S COMEDY [act ii
Falk.
[Exidting .]
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, hi the background are covered tables
li'ith bottles, glasses, biscuits, etc. From the house,
ichich is lighted wp from top to bottom, subdued
music and singing are heard during the following
scene. Svaxhild stands on the verandah. Falk
comes from the right with some books and a portfolio
under his arm. The Porter follows ivith a port-
manteau a?id 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 my back.
Now off. See, this is the portfolio.
Porter.
It's locked, I see.
Falk.
Locked, Peter.
427
428 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii
Porter,
Talk.
Make haste and burn it.
Good, sir.
Pray,
Porter.
Burn it?
Falk.
Yes, to ash —
[Smilitig.
With every draft upon poetic cash;
As for the books, you're welcome to them.
Porter.
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.
W^ell, now be off; the carriers wait without.
Just help them load the barrow ere you go.
[The Porter goes out to tJie left.
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 429
Falk.
[Approaching Svanhild, ivho comes to meet him.]
One moment's ours, my Svanhild, in the Hght
Of God and of the lustrous summer night.
How the stars glitter thro' the leafage, see,
Like bright fruit hanging on the great world-tree.
Now slavery's last manacle I slip.
Now for the last time feel the weaHng whip;
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; lie looks at Jier aiid takes Jier 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 say 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.
[Throwing 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 at 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, sav 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 iii
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 herfiiiger
Falk.
[Hastily.']
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 !
[Theij go out among the trees hy the summer-
house. Mrs. Halm and Guldstad come out
on tJie balcony.
Mrs. Halm.
He's really going }
Guldstad.
Seems so, I admit.
434 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii
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,
\Yith 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.
Merely 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 [act iii
Strawman.
[On tJie 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 —
Stiver.
I — hold her, sir?
Strawman.
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 ?
Strawman.
[^Aside to Stiver.]
Do invent some tale.
Something amusing — something to beguile!
Stiver.
[Going on to the verandali.]
Pray, madam, have you read the official charge?
A masterpiece of literary style.
[Takes a book from his pocket.
ACTiii] LOVE'S COMEDY 437
Which I shall now proceed to cite at large.
[Ushers her politely into the room, and folloivs
himself. Falk comes 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 offered up to Vengeance.
ACT III] 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.
Strawman.
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 / 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 Norway 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 iir
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.
[Ciirthj.]
I have never known.
Strawman.
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
[TFi7/t 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.
Strawman.
Yes, laugh away, and say it be so, grant
I am a hen. There clusters to my cluck
A crowd of little chickens, — which 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
hut ivith 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 iii
For every dream that vanished in the wave,
For every buoyant plume that broke asunder,
God sent me in return a Httle 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, v/ith 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 jQawless peace of mind I had —
Falk.
Prove, in a word, your title to be glad ?
Strawman.
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.
Strawman.
[Looking fixedly at him.]
Remember then that, lately, one whose scent
For truth is of the keenest told us this :
[With uplifted finger.
"There runs through all our life a Nemesis,
Which may delay, but never will relent."
[He goes towards the house.
Stiver.
[Coming out with glasses on, and an open book in his
ha7id.]
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.
Whv 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 office hours — and such an office, 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 445
Falk.
That's penal, is it — such an oversight ?
Stiver.
[Mysterio usbj.]
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 shoulders i\
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 may 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 iii
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!
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 447
Stiver.
[Steppitig hack.]
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-
off;
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 [act iii
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 I.
But work, not song, provides our daily bread.
And when a man's alive, his music's dead.
A voung: 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 confident, with a glance at the summer-house.]
Nay, tho' I took it to the highest place, —
Judgment, I know, would be reversed by grace!
I know two hearts can live a life complete,
ACTiii] 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 plays 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 w^hite 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 toicards
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 iii
Talk.
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 coffin-stench of bridegroom and of bride;
There's coffin-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 ?
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 them, — 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 III] 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 Lord ! "
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 groping, — 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 [actiii
The other asking: How can true love speed
When Hfe'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'lt 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.
[Embracing 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 bij the
summer-house.
Mrs. Halm.
[Surprised.]
Together!
ACT III] 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 Svanhild 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.
[Comes to the front.
454 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii
Mrs. Halm.
[Looking 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.
Remain.
GuLDSTAD.
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 ?
ACT ml 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 [act iii
GULDSTAD.
And you are hope's own singer young and fain.
[Stepping between them.
Just therefore, Falk and Svanhild, 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 sloivly.]
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.
ACTiii] 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 must 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,
iSIay be the ruin of her happiness.
458 LOVE'S COMEDY [act in
Falk.
[Firing up.]
You have the face to say so ?
GULDSTAD.
[Quietly.]
Years give right.
Say now you won her-
Falk.
[Defiantly.]
And what then?
GuLDSTAD.
[Slowly and emphatically.]
Yes, say
She ventured in one bottom 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.
[Lookiiig at him loith 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 ml 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.
[Com'pletiiig 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 iii
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 v/oman 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,
Thev 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'
That is a lie!
Falk.
[Vehemently.]
GuLDSTAD.
[Unm(yved.]
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
462 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii
Of taste 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 ran counter and got mixed;
And now his Muse continuously slumbers,
Lullabied by the law's eternal hum.
Thus you see — [Looks at 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 almost 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,
ACTiii] 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.
[Sharpli/.]
What do you mean ?
4
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 m
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.
This, 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 —
Guldstad.
That vou 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 I 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 Httle 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 each 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 veJiemence.]
Tear, tear it from thy memory! All his talk
Was true for others, but for us a lie!
SVANHILD.
[Sloioly 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 no 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 will 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 iii
SVANHILD.
[With anguish.]
"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 wplifted 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, Svanhild ?
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 cherubim 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 iii
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 lent —
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.
[Withjire.]
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!
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 tlie ring into the
fjord, and approacJies Falk with a transfig-
ured expression.
Now for this earthly life I have foregone thee, —
But for the life eternal I have won thee!
Falk.
[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 ea-se, and shirk the six days' toil,
Tho' we are called to strive and to forego.
■'O^
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 farewell!
SVANHILD.
Farewell !
Falk.
[Einbracing 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.
[Withdraiving towards the hackground.]
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!
[TJic door opens. Falk wifhdrmcs to tJie rigJit;
the younger guests come out with merry
laughter.
The Youxg Girls.
A lawn dance!
A Young Girl.
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 u-ith Strawman arm in arm.
]Mrs. Strawman a7id the children follow.
Stiver.
Yes, vou and I henceforward are fast friends.
Strawjl^n.
Allied in battle for our common ends.
Stiver.
When the twin forces of the State agree —
Straw^^lvn.
They add to all men's —
474 LO\TE'S COMEDY [act in
Stiver.
I Hastily.]
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.
[Smiling.]
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
Miss Jay.
Refused !
The Aunts.
Refused !
475
Mrs. Halm.
Hush, ladies, if you please!
[Goes across to Svanhild.
Mbs. Strawman.
[To Strawman.]
Fancy, refused!
Strawman.
It cannot be!
Miss Jay.
It is!
The Ladies.
[From mouth to moufJi.]
Refused! Refused! Refused!
[They gatJier in little groups about the garden.
Stiver.
[Dumfounded.]
H e courting ? How ?
Strawman.
Yes, think! He laugh'd at us, ha, ha— but now—
[Theij gaze at each other speechless.
476 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii
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.
Strawman.
[Recovering himself and embracing Stiver.]
Now then, you can be very well contented
To have your dear Jiancee for a spouse.
Stiver.
And you complacently can see your house
With little Strawmans every year augmented.
Strawman.
[Rubbing his hands luith satisfaction and looking after
Falk.]
Insolent fellow! Well, it served him right; —
Would all these knowing knaves were in his plight T
[They go across in conversation; Mrs. Halm
approaches vrith Svanhild,
ACT ml LOVE'S COMEDY 477
Mrs. 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 iii
SVANHILD.
[With a quiet smile.]
Only a little; till the leaves are falling.
[She goes towards the verandah; Mrs. Halm
seeks out Guldstad.
Strawman.
[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 hiss, 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 tlie left and remain
standing at tJie entrance.
A Student.
[To LiND.]
Here we are upon the spot!
ACT III] LOVE'S COMEDY 479
Mrs. Halm,
It's Lind you seek, then ?
Miss Jay.
That's unfortunate.
He's just engaged —
An Aunt.
And so, you may be sure,
ling on a
The Students.
He cannot think of going on a tour.
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! No possible amends!
Falk.
[Coming from the right, in sum,mer 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 iii
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!
[Turnirig 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.
Strawman.
[Beaming tvith happiness i\
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 Strawman:]
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 arin.\
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 tJie whole company.]
I go to scale the Future's possibilities!
Farewell! [So/Y/y ^o 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.
SVANHILD.
[Looks after him a moment, then says, softly hut firmly:]
Now over is my life, by lea and lawn,
482 LOVE'S COMEDY [act iii
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 hows: she starts
momentarily, then collects herself and gives
him, her hand. Mrs. 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 merriment of the dancers in the garden.
[But from the country the folloiving chorus rings
loud 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 of the Company.
Hurrah!
[Dance and merriment; the curtain falls.
NOTES
P, 324. William Russcl. 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 lUustreret Nyhedshlad 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 theVolsungs
Svanhild was the daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun, — the Siegfried
and Kriemhild of the Nihehmgenlied. 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 Hamthi^mol.
P. 405. In the remotest east there grows a plant. The germ of
the famous tea-simile is due to Fru Collett's romance. The
OfjiciaVs Davghters. 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 Burns. 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
Erasmvs Mountanvs, 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."
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