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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18428.txt b/18428.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c703b8f --- /dev/null +++ b/18428.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4513 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Feast at Solhoug, by Henrik Ibsen, +Translated by William Archer and Mary Morrison + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Feast at Solhoug + + +Author: Henrik Ibsen + + + +Release Date: May 21, 2006 [eBook #18428] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG*** + + +E-text prepared by Douglas Levy + + + +THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG. + +by + +HENRIK IBSEN + +From The Collected Works of Henrik Ibsen, Volume 1 +Revised and Edited by William Archer + +Translation by William Archer and Mary Morrison + + + + + + + +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, +1866--_The Feast at Solhoug_ was produced. The poet himself has +written its history in full in the Preface to the second edition. +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 passage:** "No one who is unacquainted with +the Scandinavian languages can fully understand the charm that the +style and melody of the old ballads exercise upon the Scandinavian +mind. The beautiful ballads and songs of _Des Knaben Wunderhorn_ +have perhaps had a similar power over German minds; but, as far as +I am aware, no German poet has 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 heroic ballads, a metre possessing as great +mobility as the verse of the _Niebelungenlied_, along with a +dramatic value not inferior to that of the 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 _Kathchen von Heubronn_ 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 happily-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." + +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 unmistakably at work in _Lady Inger_. Despite its +lyrical dialogue, _The Feast at Solhoug_ has that crispiness 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 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 contributed 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 avoidance 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 indicate the class of misunderstanding +which, from _Lady Inger_ down to the _League of Youth_, Ibsen +employed without scruple. + +Ibsen's first visit to the home of his future wife took place after +the production of _The Feast at Solhoug_. It seems doubtful whether +this was actually his first meeting with her; but at any rate we +can scarcely suppose that he knew her during the previous summer, +when he was writing his play. It is a curious coincidence, then, +that he should have found in Susanna Thoresen and her sister Marie +very much the same contrast of characters which had occupied him +in his first dramatic effort, _Catilina_, and which had formed +the main subject of the play he had just produced. It is less +wonderful that the same contrast should so often recur in his later +works, even down to _John Gabriel Borkman_. Ibsen was greatly +attached to his gentle and retiring sister-in-law, who died +unmarried in 1874. + +_The Feast at Solhoug_ has been translated by Miss Morison and +myself, only because no one else could be found to undertake the +task. We have done our best; but neither of us lays claim to any +great metrical skill, and the light movement of Ibsen's verse is +often, if not always, rendered in a sadly halting fashion. It is, +however, 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 generalisation. 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 it in 1870 +as "a study which I now disown"; and had he continued in that +frame of mind, the world would 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 probably +have shrunk from the attempt. + + W. A. + +*Copyright, 1907, by Charles Scribner's Sons. +**_Ibsen and Bjornson_. London, Heinmann, 1899, p.88 + + + + +THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG (1856) + + + +THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION + + +PREFACE + + +I wrote _The Feast at Solhoug_ in Bergen in the summer 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 anniversary 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 interpretation. Acted with pleasure and +enthusiasm, it was received in the same spirit. The "Bergen +emotionalism," 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, accompanied 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 of 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 article on it in the _Morgenblad_. It +was not a notice or criticism proper, but rather a free, fanciful +improvisation 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 thereabouts--become a real +literary, and in particular dramatic, critic? + +As a rule, the process was as follows: After some preparatory +exercises in the columns of the _Samfundsblad_, and 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, ruminated on, and possibly to a certain extent understood. +From Heiberg's writings the young man, moreover, learned of a +controversy which that author had carried on in his day with +Professor Oehlenschlager and with the Soro poet, Hauch. And he +was simultaneously made aware that J. L. Baggesen (the author of +_Letters from the Dead_) had at a still earlier period made a +similar attack on the great author who wrote both _Axel and Valborg_ +and _Hakon Jarl_. + +A quantity of other information useful to a critic was to be +extracted from these writings. From them one learned, for instance, +that taste obliged a good critic to be scandalised by a hiatus. +Did the young critical Jeronimuses 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 were in the habit of flying into an ungovernable passion +and behaving 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 thought had long +ago been thought and expressed by others; their opinions had long +ere now been formulated elsewhere. Their aesthetic principles were +borrowed; their critical method was borrowed; the polemical tactics +they employed were borrowed in every particular, great and small. +Their very frame of mind was borrowed. Borrowing, borrowing, here, +there, and everywhere! The single original thing 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 newspapers promptly discovered that I had borrowed +this, that, and the other thing form 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 +or 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 _Kathchen +von Heilbronn_, a play written at the beginning of this century. +Kathchen's relation to Count Wetterstrahl is in all essentials +the same as Tagnhild's to the knight, Stig Hvide. Like Ragnhild, +Kathchen is compelled by a mysterious, inexplicable power to follow +the man she loves wherever he goes, to steal secretly after him, +to lay herself down to sleep near him, to come back to him, as by +some innate compulsion, 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 maintained that Kleist had +borrowed here and there in his _Kathchen von Heilbronn_? I, for +my part, do not doubt it. But such suggestions of indebtedness +are futile. What makes a work of art the spiritual property of +its creator is the fact that he has imprinted on it the stamp of +his own personality. Therefore I hold that, in spite of the +above-mentioned points of resemblance, _Svend Dyring's House_ is +as incontestably and entirely an original work by Henrick Hertz as +_Katchen von Heilbronn_ is an original work by Heinrich von Kleist. + +I advance the same claim on my own behalf as regards _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 _The Feast of 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 written 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. + +Nevertheless I must maintain that he, too, is in this instance +mistaken. I have never specially admired Henrik 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 by 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 Aesthetics 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), Valsenious 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 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 customs, with the emotions, thought, and language +of the men of those days. + +The period, however, is not one over which the student is tempted +to linger, nor does it present much material suitable for dramatic +treatment. + +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. Petersen'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 Helgeland_. + +How far the details of that drama then took shape, I am no longer +able to say. But I remember perfectly that the two figures of +which I first caught sight were the two women who in course of +time became Hiordis and Dagny. There was to be a great banquet +in the play, with passion-rousing, fateful quarrels during its +course. Of other characters and passions, and situations produced +by these, I meant to include whatever seemed to me most typical +of the life which the Sagas reveal. In short, it was my intention +to reproduce dramatically exactly what the Saga of the Volsungs +gives in epic form. + +I made no complete, connected plan at that time; but it was evident +to me that such a drama was to be my first undertaking. + +Various obstacles intervened. Most of them were of a personal nature, +and these were probably the most decisive; but it undoubtedly had +its significance that I happened just at this time to make a careful +study of Landstad's collection of Norwegian ballads, published two +years previously. My mood of the moment was more in harmony with +the literary romanticism of the Middle Ages than with the deeds +of the Sagas, with poetical than with prose composition, with the +word-melody of the ballad than with the characterisation of the Saga. + +Thus it happened that the fermenting, formless design for the +tragedy, _The Vikings at Helgeland_, transformed itself temporarily +into the lyric drama, _The Feast at Solhoug_. + +The two female characters, the foster sisters Hiordis and Dagny, +of the projected tragedy, became the sisters Margit and Signe of +the completed lyric drama. The derivation of the latter pair from +the two women of the Saga at once becomes apparent when attention +is drawn to it. The relationship is unmistakable. The tragic +hero, so far only vaguely outlined, Sigurd, the far-travelled Viking, +the welcome guest at the courts of kings, became the knight and +minstrel, Gudmund Alfson, who has likewise been long absent in +foreign lands, and has lived in the king's household. His attitude +towards the two sisters was changed, to bring it into accordance +with the change in time and circumstances; but the position of +both sisters to him remained practically the same as that in the +projected and afterwards completed tragedy. The fateful banquet, +the presentation of which had seemed to me of the first importance +in my original plan, became in the drama the scene upon which its +personages made their appearance; it became the background against +which the action stood out, and communicated to the picture as a +whole the general tone at which I aimed. The ending of the play +was, undoubtedly, softened and subdued into harmony with its +character as drama, not tragedy; but orthodox aestheticians may +still, perhaps, find it indisputable whether, in this ending, a +touch of pure tragedy has not been left behind, to testify to the +origin of the drama. + +Upon this subject, however, I shall not enter 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. + + +*Heinrich von Kleist, Henrik Hertz, Henrik Ibsen. + + + + + +THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG + + + +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 LADIES. + MEN of KNUT GESLING'S TRAIN. + SERVING-MEN and MAIDENS at SOLHOUG. + + + The action passes at Solhoug in the Fourteenth Century. + + + PRONUNCIATION OF NAMES: Gudmund=Goodmund. The g in "Margit" + and in "Gesling" is hard, as in "go," or in "Gesling," it may + be pronounced as y--"Yesling." The first o in Solhoug ought + to have the sound of a very long "oo." + +Transcriber's notes: + +--Signe and Hegge have umlauts above the e's, the + ultimate e only in Hegge. +--Passages that are in lyric form are not indented + and have the directorial comments to the right of + the character's name. + + + + +THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG + +PLAY IN THREE ACTS + + + +ACT FIRST + + +A stately room, with doors in the back and to both sides. In front + on the right, a bay window with small round panes, set in lead, + and near the window a table, on which is a quantity of feminine + ornaments. Along the left wall, a longer table with silver + goblets and drinking-horns. The door in the back leads out + to a passage-way,* through which can be seen a spacious + 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. + +*This no doubt means a sort of arcaded veranda running along the +outer wall of the house. + + + +ERIK. + + [Rising at the table.] In one word, now, what answer have you +to make to my wooing on Knut Gesling's behalf? + + +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-- + + +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 overpeaceably. 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. 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. + + +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 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 husbands 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-- + + +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 together. Here is my +hand;--it may be there was somewhat 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. + + +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 kinsman, 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? + + +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? + + +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. + + +BENGT. + + Knut Gesling is an ill man to fall out with. And when I bethink +me, we gave him over many 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? + + +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 over-looked. + + [He goes out to the left. + + +MARGIT. [Sinks down on a chair by the table on the right.] + +'Twas well he departed. While here he remains +Meseems the blood freezes within my veins; +Meseems that a crushing mighty and cold +My heart in its clutches doth still enfold. + [With tears she cannot repress. + +He is my husband! I am 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, +'Twere 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 Kirsten sat combing her locks of gold. + --I am waiting for thee, I am weary.-- + +The Hill-King wedded the maiden fair; + --Oh, sad are my days and dreary-- +A silvern girdle she ever must wear. + --I am waiting for thee, I am weary.-- + +The Hill-King wedded the lily-wand, + --Oh, sad are my days and dreary-- +With fifteen gold rings on either hand. + --I am waiting for thee, I am weary.-- + +Three summers passed, and there passed full five; + --Oh, sad are my days and dreary-- +In the hill little Kirsten was buried alive. + --I am 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 may 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. + +Rings of red gold! And a belt beside--! +'Twas with gold the Hill-King wedded his bride! + [In despair; sinks down on a bench beside the table on + the left. + +Woe! Woe! I myself am the Hill-King's wife! +And there cometh none to free me from the prison of my life. + + [SIGNE, radiant with gladness, comes running in from + the back. + +SIGNE. + + [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 right.] Gudmund Alfson is at the wedding-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? + + +SIGNE. + + Oh, no, no; but I must tell you-- + + +MARGIT. + + Yes, haste you--tell on! + + +SIGNE. + +'Twas early morn, and the church bells rang, +To Mass I was fain to ride; +The birds in the willows twittered and sang, +In the birch-groves far and wide. +All earth was glad in the clear, sweet day; +And from church it had well-nigh stayed me; +For still, as I rode down the shady way, +Each rosebud beguiled and delayed me. +Silently into the church I stole; +The priest at the altar was bending; +He chanted and read, and with awe in their soul, +The folk to God's word were attending. +Then a voice rang out o'er the fiord so blue; +And the carven angels, the whole church through, +Turned round, methought, to listen thereto. + + +MARGIT. + +O Signe, say on! Tell me all, tell me all! + + +SIGNE. + +'Twas as though a strange, irresistible call +Summoned me forth from the worshipping flock, +Over hill and dale, over mead and rock. +'Mid the silver birches I listening trod, +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 her 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--? + + +SIGNE. + +I know it is he! I know it? I know it! You soon shall see! + [Laughing. + +From far-off lands, at the last, in the end, +Each song-bird homeward his flight doth bend! +I am so happy--though why I scarce know--! +Margit, what say you? I'll quickly go +And take down his harp, that has hung so long +In there on the wall that 'tis rusted quite; +Its golden strings I will polish bright, +And tune them to ring and to sing with his song. + + +MARGIT. [Absently.] + +Do as you will-- + + +SIGNE. [Reproachfully.] + + Nay, this in not right. + [Embracing her. + +But when Gudmund comes will your heart grow light-- +Light, as when I was a child, again. + + +MARGIT. + +So much has changed--ah, so much!--since then-- + + +SIGNE. + +Margit, you shall be happy and gay! +Have you not serving-maids many, and thralls? +Costly robes hang in rows on your chamber walls; +How rich you are, none can say. +By day you can ride in the forest deep, +Chasing the hart and the hind; +By night in a lordly bower you can sleep, +On pillows of silk reclined. + + +MARGIT. [Looking toward the window.] + +And he comes to Solhoug! He, as a guest! + + +SIGNE. + +What say you? + + +MARGIT. [Turning.] + + Naught.--Deck you out in your best. +That fortune which seemeth to you so bright +May await yourself. + + +SIGNE. + + Margit, say what you mean! + + +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.] + + 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. + + +MARGIT. + +But if he were mighty, and rich, and great? + + +SIGNE. + +O, were he a king, did his palace hold +Stores of rich garments and ruddy gold, +'Twould ne'er set my heart desiring. +With you I am rich enough here, meseeems, +With summer and sun and the murmuring streams, +And the birds in the branches quiring. +Dear sister mine--here shall my dwelling be; +And to give any wooer my hand in fee, +For that I am too busy, and my heart too full of glee! + + [SIGNE runs out to the left, singing. + + +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 the back. + + +BENGT. + + [Entering, calls loudly.] An unlooked-for guest my wife! + + +MARGIT. + + What guest? + + +BENGT. + + Your kinsman, Gudmund Alfson! [Calls through the doorway on the +right.] Let the best guest-room be prepared--and that forthwith! + + +MARGIT. + + Is he, then, already 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 greeting 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 to seek him. [Calls out.] The gilded saddle on my horse! +And forget not the bridle with the serpents' heads! [Looks out to +the back.] Ha, there he is already at the gate! Well, then, my +staff--my silver-headed staff! Such a lordly knight--Heaven save +us!--we must receive him with honour, with all seemly honour! + + [Goes hastily out to the back. + + +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 the left, taking the ornaments + with them. + +Since Margit the Hill-King's bride must be, +Well! don we the queenly livery! + + [She goes out to the left. + [BENGT ushers in GUDMUND ALFSON, through the pent-house + passage at the back. + + +BENGT. + + And now once more--welcome under Solhoug's roof, my wife's kinsman. + + +GUDMUND. + + I thank you. And how goes it with her? She thrives well in +every way, I make no doubt? + + +BENGT. + + Aye, you may be sure she does. There is nothing she lacks. She +has five handmaidens, no less, at her beck and call; a courser +stands ready saddled in the stall when she lists to ride abroad. +In one word, she has all that a noble lady can desire to make her +happy in her lot. + + +GUDMUND. + + And Margit--is she then happy? + + +BENGT. + + God and all men would think that she must be; but, strange +to say-- + + +GUDMUND. + + What mean you? + + +BENGT. + + Well, believe it or not as you list, but it seems to me that +Margit was merrier of heart in the days of her poverty, than since +she became the lady of Solhoug. + + +GUDMUND. + + [To himself.] I knew it; so it must be. + + +BENGT. + + What say you, kinsman? + + +GUDMUND. + + I say that I wonder greatly at what you tell me of your wife. + + +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 now recognized 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 the table on the right.] Twelve years is a long +time, Gudmund. The freshest plant may wither ten times over in +that space. + + +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. + + [Interrupting.] My kinsman has already heard it. [To GUDMUND.] +Will you not lay aside your cloak? + + +GUDMUND. + + I thank you, Dame Margit; but it seems to me cold here--colder +than I had foreseen. + + +BENGT. + + For my part, I am warm enough; but then I have a hundred things +to do and to take order for. [To MARGIT.] 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 so e'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. + + +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. + + +MARGIT. [Choking back her tears.] + +Aye, 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. [Vehemently.] + +No, no, not of them! + 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-- + + +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? + + +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 beast's lair. + + [On the point of going. + + +MARGIT. [Holding him back.] + +Outlawed! Nay, stay! I swear to you +That naught of your outlawry I knew. + + +GUDMUND. + +It is as I tell you. My life's at stake; +And to live are all men fain. +Three nights like a dog 'neath the sky I've lain, +My couch on the hillside forced to make, +With for pillow the boulder grey. +Though too proud to knock at the door of the stranger, +And pray him for aid in the hour of danger, +Yet strong was my hope as I held on my way: +I thought: When to Solhoug you come at last +Then all your pains will be done and past. +You have sure friends there, whatever betide.-- +But hope like a wayside flower shrivels up; +Though your husband met me with flagon and cup, +And his doors flung open wide, +Within, your dwelling seems chill and bare; +Dark is the hall; my friends are not there. +'Tis well; I will back to my hills from your halls. + + +MARGIT. [Beseechingly.] + +Oh, hear me! + + +GUDMUND. + + My soul is not base as a thrall's. +Now life to me seems a thing of nought; +Truly I hold it scarce worth a thought. +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 your 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. + + +GUDMUND. + +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--? + + +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 her.] + +E'en then you were growing to beauty rare. + + +MARGIT. + +Mayhap; but the praises showered on me +Caused the wreck of my happiness--that I now see. +To far-off lands away you sailed; +But deep in my heart was graven each song +You had ever sung; and their glamour was strong; +With a mist of dreams my brow they veiled. +In them all the joys you had dwelt upon +That can find a home in the beating breast; +You had sung so oft of the lordly life +'Mid knights and ladies. And lo! anon +Came wooers a many from east and from west; +And so--I became Bengt Gauteson's wife. + + +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-- + + +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. [Smiling.] + + 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, +With her squires, and maidens, and ducats bright. +Sir Audun's a fair and 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 thought 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. + + +MARGIT. + +She begged--? + + +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. + + +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. + + +MARGIT. + +And that--? + + +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. + + +GUDMUND. + +All? Nay, Margit--you then were free. + + +MARGIT. + +You mean--? + + +GUDMUND. + + I? Nay, I meant naught. My brain +Is wildered; but ah, I am blithe and fain +To be, as of old, with you 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 the left. + + +MARGIT. + + [Following him with her eyes.] How fair and manlike he is! [With +a sigh.] There is little likeness 'twixt him and-- [Begins putting +things in order on the table, but presently stops.] "You then were +free," he said. Yes, then! [A short pause.] 'Twas a strange tale, +that of the Princess who-- She held another dear, and then-- Aye, +those women of far-off lands-- I have heard it before--they are +not weak as we are; they do not fear to pass from thought to deed. +[Takes up a goblet which stands on the table.] 'Twas in this +beaker that Gudmund and I, when he went away, drank to his happy +return. 'Tis well-nigh the only heirloom I brought with me to +Solhoug. [Putting the goblet away in a cupboard.] How soft is +this summer day; and how light it is in here! So sweetly has the +sun not shone for three long years. + + [SIGNE, and after her GUDMUND, enters from the left. + + +SIGNE. [Runs laughing up to MARGIT.] + +Ha, 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 SIGNE's hands and looks at her. + +Yet, when I look in these eyes so blue, +The innocent child-mind I still can read-- +Yes, Signe, I know that 'tis you! +I needs must laugh when I think how oft +I have thought of you perched on my shoulder aloft +As you used to ride. You were then a child; +Now you are a nixie, spell-weaving, wild. + + +SIGNE. [Threatening with her finger.] + +Beware! If the nixie's ire you awaken, +Soon in her nets you will find yourself taken. + + +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 he follows her with his eyes.] + +She has flushed to the loveliest rose of May, +That was yet but a bud in the morning's ray. + + +SIGNE. [Returning with the harp.] + +Behold! + + +GUDMUND. [Taking it.] + + My harp! As bright as of yore! + [Striking one or two chords. + +Still the old chords ring sweet and clear-- +On the wall, untouched, thou shalt hang no more. + + +MARGIT. [Looking out at the back.] + +Our guests are coming. + + +SIGNE. [While GUDMUND preludes his song.] + + Hush--hush! Oh, hear! + + +GUDMUND. [Sings.] + +I roamed through the uplands so heavy of cheer; +The little birds quavered in bush and in brere; +The little birds quavered, around and above: +Wouldst know of the sowing and growing of love? + +It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years; +'Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs, and by tears; +But swiftly 'tis sown; ere a moment speeds by, +Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye. + + [As he strikes the concluding chords, he goes towards the + back where he lays down his harp. + + +SIGNE. [Thoughtfully, repeats to herself.] + +But swiftly 'tis sown; ere a moment speeds by, +Deep, deep in the heart love is rooted for aye. + + +MARGIT. + + [Absently.] Did you speak to me?--I heard not clearly--? + + +SIGNE. + + I? No, no. I only meant-- + + [She again becomes absorbed in dreams. + + +MARGIT. [Half aloud; looking straight before her.] + +It grows like the oak tree through slow-rolling years; +'Tis nourished by dreams, and by songs and by tears. + + +SIGNE. + + [Returning to herself.] You said that--? + + +MARGIT. + + [Drawing her hand over her brow.] Nay, 'twas nothing. Come, we +must go meet our guests. + + [BENGT enters with many GUESTS, both men and women, + through the passageway. + + +GUESTS. + + With song and harping enter we + The feast-hall opened wide; + Peace to our hostess kind and free, + All happiness to her betide. + O'er Solhoug's roof for ever may + Bright as to-day + The heavens abide. + + + + +ACT SECOND + + +A birch grove adjoining the house, one corner of which is seen to + the left. At the back, a footpath leads up the hillside. To + the right of the footpath a river comes tumbling down a ravine + and loses itself among boulders and stones. It is a light + summer evening. The door leading to the house stands open; + the windows are lighted up. Music is heard from within. + + + +THE GUESTS. [Singing in the Feast Hall.] + +Set bow to fiddle! To sound of strings +We'll dance till night shall furl her wings, + Through the long hours glad and golden! +Like blood-red blossom the maiden glows-- +Come, bold young wooer and hold the rose + In a soft embrace enfolden. + + [KNUT GESLING and ERIK OF 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. + + +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 uplands. Were the King's +decree to be enforced, many a 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. +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, +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 +Thought 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? + + +SIGNE. + + Till you come again + + [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 revelry; +The dancers foot it with jest and glee. +The air weighed hot on my brow and breast; +For Gudmund, he was not there. + [She draws a deep breath. + +Out here 'tis better: here's quiet and rest. +How sweet is the cool night air! + [A brooding silence. + +The horrible thought! Oh, why should it be +That wherever I go it follows me? +The phial--doth a secret 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 +Softly over the marshes wide? +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! + [With growing vehemence. + +How I would lure the knight so bold +Through the greenwood glades to my mountain hold. +There were the world and its woes forgot +In the burning joys of our blissful lot. + + +GUDMUND. + +Margit! Margit! + + +MARGIT. [Ever more wildly.] + + At midnight's hour +Sweet were our sleep in my lonely bower;-- +And if death should come with the dawn, I trow +'Twere sweet to die so;--what thinkest thou? + + +GUDMUND. + +You are sick! + + +MARGIT. [Bursting into laughter.] + + Ha, ha!--Let me laugh! 'Tis good +To laugh when the heart is in laughing mood! + + +GUDMUND. + +I see that you still have the same wild soul +As of old-- + + +MARGIT. [With sudden seriousness.] + + Nay, let not that vex your mind, +'Tis only at midnight it mocks control; +By day I am timid as any hind. +How tame I have grown, you yourself must say, +When 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-- + + +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. + + +GUDMUND. [Goes to the right, and looks down into the ravine.] + + Have you thrown it away? + + +MARGIT. [Concealing the phial.] + +Aye, surely! You saw-- + [Whispers as she goes towards the house. + + Now God help and spare me! + [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? + + +GUDMUND. [Looks searchingly 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. + + +GUDMUND. [To himself.] + +Ye saints, if she should--? Lest worse befall, +'Tis time indeed I told her all! + [Aloud. + +Do you wish for my happiness--Margit, tell! + + +MARGIT. [In joyful agitation.] + +Wish for it! I! + + +GUDMUND. + + Then, wot you well, +The joy of my life now rests with you-- + + +MARGIT. [With an outburst.] + +Gudmund! + + +GUDMUND. + + Listen! 'tis the time you knew-- + + [He stops suddenly. + [Voices and laughter are heard by the river bank. SIGNE and + other GIRLS enter from the right, accompanied by KNUT, + ERIK, and several YOUNGER MEN. + + +KNUT. + + [Still at a distance.] Gudmund Alfson! Wait; I must speak a word +with you. + + [He stops, talking to ERIK. The other GUESTS in the 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 back talking to each other. + + +GUDMUND. + + [Softly as he follows them with his eyes.] Aye, so it were wisest. +Both Signe and I must away from Solhoug. 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 house. + + +KNUT. + + [Approaching.] Listen, Gudmund-- + + +GUDMUND. + + [Smiling.] Come you to tell me that you dare no longer let me +go free. + + +KNUT. + + Dare! Be at your ease as to that. Knut Gesling dares whatever +he will. No, 'tis another matter. You know that here in the +district, I am held to be a wild, unruly companion-- + + +GUDMUND. + + Aye, and if rumour lies not-- + + +KNUT. + + Why no, much that it reports may be true enough. But now, I must +tell you-- + + [They go, conversing, up towards the back. + + +SIGNE. + + [To 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-- [Suddenly 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. + + +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. + + +SIGNE. + + Then will I be more open-hearted than you. But first answer me +one question. [Bashfully, with hesitation.] Is there no one who +has told you anything 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 Gesling--has he already--? +[Eagerly to SIGNE.] Well? What then? + + +SIGNE. + + [Softly, but with exultation.] The wooer has come! He has come, +Margit! I knew not then whom you meant; but now--! + + +MARGIT. + + And what have you answered him? + + +SIGNE. + + Oh, how should I know? [Flinging her arms round her sister's +neck.] But the world seems to me so rich and beautiful since the +moment when he told me that he held me dear. + + +MARGIT. + + Why, Signe, Signe, I cannot understand that you should so quickly--! +You scarce knew him before to-day. + + +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.] And here is mine! + + [They shake hands. + + +KNUT. + + But now we must each of us name who it is-- + + +GUDMUND. + + Good. Here at Solhoug, among so many fair women, I have found +her whom-- + + +KNUT. + + I too. And I will bear her home this very night, if it be needful. + + +MARGIT. + + [Who has approached unobserved.] All saints in heaven! + + +GUDMUND. + + [Nods to KNUT.] The same is my intent. + + +SIGNE. + + [Who has also been listening.] Gudmund! + + +GUDMUND AND KNUT. + + [Whispering to each other, as they both point at Signe.] There +she is! + + +GUDMUND. + + [Starting.] Aye, mine. + + +KNUT. + + [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. + + Signe! Signe is my betrothed in the sight of God. + + +MARGIT. + + [With a cry.] It was she! No--no! + + +GUDMUND. + + [To himself, as he catches sight of her.] Margit! She has +heard everything. + + +KNUT. + + Ho, ho! So this is how it stands? Nay, Dame Margit, 'tis needless +to put on such an air of wonder; now I understand everything. + + +MARGIT. + + [To SIGNE.] But not a moment ago you said--? [Suddenly grasping +the situation.] 'Twas Gudmund you meant! + + +SIGNE. + + [Astonished.] Yes, did you not know it! But what ails +you, Margit? + + +MARGIT. + + [In an almost toneless voice.] Nay, nothing, nothing. + + +KNUT. + + [To MARGIT.] And this morning, when you made me give my word +that I would stir no strife here to-night--you already knew that +Gudmund Alfson was coming. Ha, ha, think not that you can hoodwink +Knut Gesling! Signe has become dear to me. Even this morning +'twas but my hasty vow that drove me to seek her hand; but now-- + + +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 with herself.] Signe has already made her choice;--I +have naught to answer. + + +KNUT. + + Good; then I have nothing more to do at Solhoug. But after +midnight--mark you this--the day is at an end; then you may chance +to see me again, and then Fortune must decide whether it be Gudmund +or I that shall bear Signe away from this house. + + +GUDMUND. + + Aye, try if you dare; it shall cost you a bloody sconce. + + +SIGNE. + + [In terror.] Gudmund! By all the saints--! + + +KNUT. + + Gently, gently, Gudmund Alfson! Ere sunrise you shall be in my +power. And she--your lady-love-- [Goes up to the door, beckons +and calls in a low voice.] Erik! Erik! come hither! we must away +to our kinsfolk. [Threateningly, while ERIK shows himself in the +doorway.] Woe upon you all when I come again! + + [He and ERIK go off to the left at the back. + + +SIGNE. + + [Softly to 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 nought of it! No word to any one, not even to your sister. + + +MARGIT. + + [To herself.] She--it is she! She of whom he had scarce thought +before to-night. Had I been free, I know well whom he had chosen.-- +Aye, free! + + [BENGT and GUESTS, both Men and Women enter from the house. + + +YOUNG MEN AND MAIDENS. + +Out here, out here be the feast arrayed, +While the birds are asleep in the greenwood shade, +How sweet to sport in the flowery glade + 'Neath the birches. + +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 merry +along with us. + + +ONE OF THE GUESTS. + + Aye, now let us have a stave-match.* + + *A contest in impromptu verse-making. + + +MANY. + + [Shout.] Yes, yes, a stave-match! + + +ANOTHER GUEST. + + Nay, let that be; it leads but to strife at the feast. [Lowering +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 beware. + + +AN OLD MAN. + + But you, Dame Margit--I know your kind had ever wealth of tales in +store; and you yourself, even as a child, knew many a fair legend. + + +MARGIT. + + Alas! I have forgot them all. But ask Gudmund Alfson, my kinsman; +he knows a tale that is merry enough. + + +GUDMUND. + + [In a low voice, imploringly.] Margit! + + +MARGIT. + + Why, what a pitiful countenance you put on! Be merry, Gudmund! +Be merry! Aye, aye, it comes easy to you, well I wot. [Laughing, +to the GUESTS.] He has seen the huldra to-night. She would fain +have tempted him; but Gudmund is a faithful swain. [Turns again +to GUDMUND.] Aye, but the tale is not finished yet. When you +bear away your lady-love, over hill and through forest, be sure +you turn not round; be sure you never 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. + + [She crosses to the right. + + +SIGNE. + + Oh, God! Oh, God! + + +BENGT. + + [Going around among the GUESTS in high contentment.] Ha, ha, ha! +Dame Margit knows how to set the mirth afoot! When she takes it +in hand, she does it much better than I. + + +GUDMUND. + + [To himself.] She threatens! I must tear the last hope out of +her breast; else will peace never come to 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 + leans against a tree in front on the right. SIGNE stands + on the left, near the house. + + +GUDMUND. + + I rode into the wildwood, + I sailed across the sea, + But 'twas at home I wooed and won + A maiden fair and free. + + It was the Queen of Elfland, + She waxed full wroth and grim: + Never, she swore, shall that maiden fair + Ride to the church with him. + + Hear me, thou Queen of Elfland, + Vain, vain are threat and spell; + For naught can sunder two true hearts + That love each other well! + + +AN OLD MAN. + + That is a right fair song. See how the young swains cast their +glances thitherward! [Pointing towards the GIRLS.] Aye, aye, +doubtless each has his own. + + +BENGT. + + [Making eyes at MARGIT.] Yes, I have mine, that is sure enough. +Ha, ha, ha! + + +MARGIT. + + [To herself, quivering.] To have to suffer all this shame and +scorn! No, no; now to essay the last remedy. + + +BENGT. + + What ails you? Meseems you look so pale. + + +MARGIT. + + 'Twill soon pass over. [Turns to the GUESTS.] Did I say e'en +now that I had forgotten all my tales? I bethink me now that I +remember one. + + +BENGT. + + Good, good, my wife! Come, let us hear it. + + +YOUNG GIRLS. + + [Urgently.] Yes, tell it us, tell it us, Dame Margit! + + +MARGIT. + + I almost fear that 'twill little please you; but that must be as +it may. + + +GUDMUND. + + [To himself.] Saints in heaven, surely she would not--! + + +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; +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 her 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 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! +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. + + +SIGNE. + + [Weeping, has rushed up to her, and takes her in her arms.] +Margit! My sister! + + +GUDMUND. + + [At the same time, supporting her.] Help! help! she is dying! + + [BENGT and the GUESTS flock round them with cries of alarm. + + + + +ACT THIRD + + +The hall at Solhoug as before, but now in disorder after the feast. + It is night still, but with a glimmer of approaching dawn in + the room and over the landscape without. + +BENGT stands outside in the passage-way, with a beaker of ale in + his hand. A party of GUESTS are in the act of leaving the + house. In the room a MAID-SERVANT is restoring order. + + +BENGT. + + [Calls to the departing GUESTS.] God speed you, then, and bring +you back ere long to Solhoug. Methinks 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. + + +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, and gazes out at the open window. + + +MARGIT. + +To-morrow, then, Gudmund will ride away +Out into the world so great and wide. +Alone with my husband here I must stay; +And well do I know what will then betide. +Like the broken branch and the trampled flower +I shall suffer and fade from hour to hour. + [Short pause; she leans back in her chair. + +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 the 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 the child's my eyes were sealed, +To the light and the life of summer blind-- + [She springs up. + +But now--! And I in this cage confined! +No, now is the worth of my youth revealed! +Three years of life I on him have spent-- +My husband--but were I longer content +This hapless, hopeless weird to dree, +Meek as a dove I needs must be. +I am wearied to death of petty brawls; +The stirring life of the great world calls. +I will follow Gudmund with shield and bow, +I will share his joys, I will soothe his woe, +Watch o'er him both by night and day. +All that behold shall envy the life +Of the valiant knight and Margit his wife.-- +His wife! + [Wrings her hands. + + Oh God, what is this I say! +Forgive me, forgive me, and oh! let me feel +The peace that hath power both to soothe and to heal. + [Walks back and forward, brooding silently. + +Signe, my sister--? How hateful 'twere +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 passageway; 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 gates. But +what became of Knut Gesling to-night?--Give me mead, Margit! I +am thirsty Fill this cup. + + [MARGIT fetches a flagon of the mead from a cupboard, and + and fills the goblet which is on the table before 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. + + [To herself.] Oh, to have to live with him! + + [Is in the act of leaving the room. + + +BENGT. + + Margit, come here! Fill my cup again. [She approaches; he +tries to draw her down on his knee.] Ha, ha, ha! You are right +fair, Margit! I love thee well! + + +MARGIT. + + [Freeing herself.] Let me go! + + [Crosses, with the goblet in her hand, to the left. + + +BENGT. + + You are not in the humour to-night. Ha, ha, ha! That means no +great matter, I know. + + +MARGIT. + + [Softly, as she fills the goblet.] Oh, that this might be the +last beaker I should fill for you. + + [She leaves the goblet on the table and is making her way + out to the left. + + +BENGT. + + Hark to me, Margit. For one thing you may thank Heaven, and +that is, that I made you my wife before Gudmund Alfson came back. + + +MARGIT. + + Why so? + + +BENGT. + + Why, say you? Am not I ten times the richer man? And certain +I am that he would have sought you for his wife, had you not been +the mistress of Solhoug. + + +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? Aye, 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-visiting each other, and then will we sit the live-long +day, each with his wife on his knee, drinking and talking of this +and that. + + +MARGIT. + + [Whose mental struggle is visibly becoming more severe, +involuntarily takes out the phial as she says:] No doubt no doubt! + + +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 contents of the +phial into the goblet, goes to the window and throws out the phial, +then says, without looking at him.] Your beaker is full. + + +BENGT. + + Then bring it hither! + + +MARGIT. + + [Battling in an agony of indecision, at last says.] I pray you +drink no more to-night! + + +BENGT. + + [Leans back in his chair and laughs.] Oho! You are impatient +for my coming? Get you in; I will follow you soon. + + +MARGIT. + + [Suddenly decided.] Your beaker is full. [Points.] There it is. + + [She goes quickly out to the left. + + +BENGT. + + [Rising.] I like her well. It repents me not a whit that I +took her to wife, though of heritage she owned no more than yonder +goblet and the brooches of her wedding gown. + + [He goes to the table at the window and takes the goblet. + [A HOUSE-CARL enters hurriedly and with scared looks, from + the back. + + +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 back. + [Soon after, GUDMUND and SIGNE enter quietly and cautiously + by the door at the back. + + +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. + +Yet shalt thou hear no plaint forlorn. +'Tis for thy sake my home I flee; +Wert thou not outlawed, Gudmund dear, +I'd stay with my sister. + + +GUDMUND. + + Only to be +Ta'en by Knut Gesling, with bow and spear, +Swung on the croup of his battle-horse, +And made his wife by force. + + +SIGNE. + +Quick, let us flee. But whither go? + + +GUDMUND. + +Down by the fiord a friend I know; +He'll find us a ship. O'er the salt sea foam +We'll sail away south to Denmark's bowers. +There waits you there a happy home; +Right joyously will fleet the hours; +The fairest of flowers they bloom in the shade +Of the beech-tree glade. + + +SIGNE. [Bursts into tears.] + +Farewell, my poor sister! Like my mother tender +Thou hast guarded the ways my feet have trod, +Hast guided my footsteps, aye praying to God, +The Almighty, to be my defender.-- +Gudmund--here is a goblet filled with mead; +Let us drink to her; let us wish that ere long +Her soul may again be calm and strong, +And that God may be good to her need. + + [She takes the goblet into her hands. + + +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. + + +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 hand.] The goblet! Who has drunk from it? + + +GUDMUND. + + [Confused.] Drunk--? I and Signe--we meant-- + + +MARGIT. + + [Screams.] O God, have mercy! Help! Help! They will die! + + +GUDMUND. + + [Setting down the goblet.] Margit--! + + +SIGNE. + + What ails you, sister? + + +MARGIT. + + [Towards the back.] Help, help! Will no one help? + + [A HOUSE-CARL rushes in from the passage-way. + + +HOUSE-CARL. + + [Calls in a terrified voice.] Lady Margit! Your husband--! + + +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 + towards the door at the back. + + +ANOTHER HOUSE-CARL. + + [Enters, stopping him.] You come too late. Sir Bengt is dead. + + +GUDMUND. + + Too late, then, too late. + + +HOUSE-CARL. + + The guests and your men have prevailed against the murderous +crew. Knut Gesling and his men are prisoners. Here they come. + + [GUDMUND's men, and a number of GUESTS and HOUSE-CARLS, + lead in KNUT GESLING, ERIK OF HEGGE, and several of + KNUT's men, bound. + + +KNUT. + + [Who is pale, says in a low voice.] Man-slayer, Gudmund. 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. + + +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 whispers, 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. + + +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! + + +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. + + +GUDMUND. + + Signe! + + +SIGNE. + + Gudmund! + + +GUDMUND. + + But tell me--? + + +MESSENGER. + + Your enemy, the Chancellor Audun Hugleikson, has fallen. + + +GUDMUND. + + The Chancellor! + + +GUESTS. + + [To each other, in half-whisper.] Fallen! + + +MESSENGER. + + Three days ago he was beheaded at Bergen. [Lowering his voice.] +His offence was against Norway's Queen. + + +MARGIT. [Placing herself between GUDMUND and SIGNE.] + +Thus punishment treads on the heels of crime! +Protecting angels, loving and bright, +Have looked down in mercy on me to-night, +And come to my rescue while yet it was time. +Now know I that life's most precious treasure +Is nor worldly wealth nor earthly pleasure, +I have felt the remorse, the terror I know, +Of those who wantonly peril their soul, +To St. Sunniva's cloister forthwith I go.-- + [Before GUDMUND and SIGNE can speak. + +Nay: think not to move me or control. + [Places SIGNE's hand in GUDMUND's. + +Take her then Gudmund, and make her your bride. +Your union is holy; God's on your side. + + [Waving farewell, she goes towards the doorway on the left. + GUDMUND and SIGNE follow her, she stops them with a + motion of her hand, goes out, and shuts the door behind + her. At this moment the sun rises and sheds its light + in the hall. + + +GUDMUND. + +Signe--my wife! See, the morning glow! +'Tis the morning of our young love. Rejoice! + + +SIGNE. + +All my fairest of dreams and of memories I owe +To the strains of thy harp and the sound of thy voice. +My noble minstrel, to joy or sadness +Tune thou that harp as seems thee best; +There are chords, believe me, within my breast +To answer to thine, or of woe or of gladness. + + +CHORUS OF MEN AND WOMEN. + +Over the earth keeps watch the eye of light, +Guardeth lovingly the good man's ways, +Sheddeth round him its consoling rays;-- +Praise be to the Lord in heaven's height! + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FEAST AT SOLHOUG*** + + +******* This file should be named 18428.txt or 18428.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/4/2/18428 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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