Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (18 page)

JENS BIELKE. May be so. But what am I to do now? Count Sture is in Ostrat, you say. Ay, but how does that profit me? Be sure Lady Inger Gyldenlove has as many hiding-places as the fox, and more than one outlet to them. We two can go snuffing about here alone as long as we please. I would the devil had the whole affair!

NILS LYKKE. Well, then, my friend — if you like not the turn your errand has taken, you have but to leave the field to me.

JENS BIELKE. To you? What will you do?

NILS LYKKE. Caution and cunning may here do more than could be achieved by force of arms. — And to say truth, Captain Jens Bielke — something of the sort has been in my mind ever since we met in Trondhiem yesterday.

JENS BIELKE. Was that why you persuaded me to leave the men
at arms?

NILS LYKKE. Both your purpose at Ostrat and mine could best be
served without them; and so ——

JENS BIELKE. The foul fiend seize you — I had almost said! And me to boot! Might I not have known that there is guile in all your dealings?

NILS LYKKE. Be sure I shall need all my guile here, if I am to face my foe with even weapons. And let me tell you ‘tis of the utmost moment to me that I acquit me of my mission secretly and well. You must know that when I set forth I was scarce in favour with my lord the King. He held me in suspicion; though I dare swear I have served him as well as any man could, in more than one ticklish charge.

JENS BIELKE. That you may safely boast. God and all men know you for the craftiest devil in all the three kingdoms.

NILS LYKKE. You flatter! But after all, ‘tis not much to say. Now this present errand I hold for the crowning proof of my policy; for here I have to outwit a woman ——

JENS BIELKE. Ha-ha-ha! In that art you have long since given crowning proofs of your skill, dear brother. Think you we in Sweden know not the song —

Fair maidens a-many they sigh and they pine; “Ah God, that Nils Lykke were mine, mine, mine!
”

NILS LYKKE. Alas, it is women of twenty and thereabouts that ditty speaks of. Lady Inger Gyldenlove is nigh on fifty, and wily to boot beyond all women. It will be no light matter to overcome her. But it must be done — at any cost. If I succeed in winning certain advantages over her that the King has long desired, I can reckon on the embassy to France next spring. You know that I spent three years at the University in Paris? My whole soul is bent on coming thither again, most of all if I can appear in lofty place, a king’s ambassador. — Well, then — is it agreed? — do you leave Lady Inger to me? Remember — when you were last at Court in Copenhagen, I made way for you with more than one fair lady ——

JENS BIELKE. Nay, truly now — that generosity cost you little; one and all of them were at your beck and call. But let that pass; now that I have begun amiss in this matter, I had as lief that you should take it on your shoulders. One thing, though, you must promise — if the young Count Sture be in Ostrat, you will deliver him into my hands, dead or alive!

NILS LYKKE. You shall have him all alive. I, at any rate, mean not to kill him. But now you must ride back and join your people. Keep guard on the road. Should I mark aught that mislikes me, you shall know it forthwith.

JENS BIELKE. Good, good. But how am I to get out?

NILS LYKKE. The fellow that brought us in will show the way.
But go quietly.

JENS BIELKE. Of course, of course. Well — good fortune to you!

NILS LYKKE. Fortune has never failed me in a war with women.
Haste you now!

(JENS BIELKE goes out to the right.)

NILS LYKKE (stands still for a while; then walks about the room, looking round him; at last he says softly). So I am at Ostrat at last — the ancient seat that a child, two years ago, told me so much of. Lucia. Ay, two years ago she was still a child. And now — now she is dead. (Hums with a half-smile.) “Blossoms plucked are blossoms withered ——
 
— —” (Looks round him again.) Ostrat. ‘Tis as though I had seen it all before; as though I were at home here. — In there is the Banquet Hall. And underneath is — the grave-vault. It must be there that Lucia lies. (In a lower voice, half seriously, half with forced gaiety.) Were I timorous, I might well find myself fancying that when I set foot within Ostrat gate she turned about in her coffin; as I walked across the courtyard she lifted the lid; and when I named her name but now, ‘twas as though a voice summoned her forth from the grave-vault. — Maybe she is even now groping her way up the stairs. The face-cloth blinds her, but she gropes on and on in spite of it. Now she has reached the Banquet Hall; she stands watching me from behind the door! (Turns his head backwards over one shoulder, nods, and says aloud:) Come nearer, Lucia! Talk to me a little! Your mother keeps me waiting. ‘Tis tedious waiting — and you have helped me to while away many a tedious hour ——
 
—— (Passes his hand over his forehead, and takes one or two turns up and down.) Ah, there! — Right, right; there is the the deep curtained window. It is there that Inger Gyldenlove is wont to stand gazing out over the road, as though looking for one that never comes. In there — (looks towards the door on the left) — somewhere in there is Sister Elina’s chamber. Elina? Ay, Elina is her name. Can it be that she is so rare a being — so wise and so brave as Lucia drew her? Fair, too, they say. But for a wedded wife —— ? I should not have written so plainly ——
 
—— (Lost in thought, he is on the point of sitting down by the table, but stands up again.) How will Lady Inger receive me? She will scarce burn the castle over our heads, or slip me through a trap-door. A stab from behind —— ? No, not that way either —— (Listens towards the hall.) Aha!

(LADY INGER GYLDENLOVE enters from the hall.)

LADY INGER (coldly). My greeting to you, Sir Councillor ——

NILS LYKKE (bows deeply). Ah — the Lady of Ostrat!

LADY INGER. And thanks that you have forewarned me of your visit.

NILS LYKKE. I could do no less. I had reason to think that my
coming might surprise you ——

LADY INGER. In truth, Sir Councillor, you thought right there.
Nils Lykke was certainly the last guest I looked to see at Ostrat.

NILS LYKKE. And still less, mayhap, did you think to see him
come as a friend?

LADY INGER. As a friend? You add insult to all the shame and sorrow you have heaped upon my house? After bringing my child to the grave, you still dare ——

NILS LYKKE. With your leave, Lady Inger Gyldenlove — on that matter we should scarce agree; for you count as nothing what
I
lost by that same unhappy chance. I purposed nought but in honour. I was tired of my unbridled life; my thirtieth year was already past; I longed to mate me with a good and gentle wife. Add to all this the hope of becoming
your
son-in-law ——

LADY INGER. Beware, Sir Councillor! I have done all in my power to hide my child’s unhappy fate. But because it is out of sight, think not it is out of mind. It may yet happen ——

NILS LYKKE. You threaten me, Lady Inger? I have offered you my hand in amity; you refuse to take it. Henceforth, then, it is to be open war between us?

LADY INGER. Was there ever aught else?

NILS LYKKE. Not on
your
side, mayhap.
I
have never been your enemy, — though as a subject of the King of Denmark I lacked not good cause.

LADY INGER. I understand you. I have not been pliant enough. It has not proved so easy as some of you hoped to lure me over into your camp. — Yet methinks you have nought to complain of. My daughter Merete’s husband is your countryman — further I cannot go. My position is no easy one, Nils Lykke!

NILS LYKKE. That I can well believe. Both nobles and people here in Norway think they have an ancient claim on you — a claim, ‘tis said, you have but half fulfilled.

LADY INGER. Your pardon, Sir Councillor, — I account for my doings to none but God and myself. If it please you, then, let me understand what brings you hither.

NILS LYKKE. Gladly, Lady Inger! The purport of my mission to
this country can scarce be unknown to you —— ?

LADY INGER. I know the mission that report assigns you. Our King would fain know how the Norwegian nobles stand affected towards him.

NILS LYKKE. Assuredly.

LADY INGER. Then that is why you visit Ostrat?

NILS LYKKE. In part. But it is far from my purpose to demand any profession of loyalty from you ——

LADY INGER. What then?

NILS LYKKE. Hearken to me, Lady Inger! You said yourself but now that your position is no easy one. You stand half way between two hostile camps, neither of which dares trust you fully. Your own interest must needs bind you to
us
. On the other hand, you are bound to the disaffected by the bond of nationality, and — who knows? — mayhap by some secret tie as well.

LADY INGER (aside). A secret tie! Christ, does he —— ?

NILS LYKKE (notices her emotion, but makes no sign and continues without change of manner). You cannot but see that such a position must ere long become impossible. — Suppose, now, it lay in my power to free you from these embarrassments which ——

LADY INGER. In your power, you say?

NILS LYKKE. First of all, Lady Inger, I would beg you to lay no stress on any careless words I may have used concerning that which lies between us two. Think not that I have forgotten for a moment the wrong I have done you. Suppose, now, I had long purposed to make atonement, as far as might be, where I had sinned. Suppose that were my reason for undertaking this mission.

LADY INGER. Speak your meaning more clearly, Sir Councillor; — I cannot follow you.

NILS LYKKE. I can scarce be mistaken in thinking that you, as well as I, know of the threatened troubles in Sweden. You know, or at least you can guess, that this rising is of far wider aim than is commonly supposed, and you understand therefore that our King cannot look on quietly and let things take their course. Am I not right?

LADY INGER. Go on.

NILS LYKKE (searchingly, after a short pause). There is one possible chance that might endanger Gustav Vasa’s throne ——

LADY INGER (aside). Whither is he tending?

NILS LYKKE. —— the chance, namely, that there should exist in
Sweden a man entitled by his birth to claim election to the kingship.

LADY INGER (evasively). The Swedish nobles have been even as bloodily hewn down as our own, Sir Councillor. Where would you seek for —— ?

NILS LYKKE (with a smile). Seek? The man is found already ——

LADY INGER (starts violently). Ah! He is found?

NILS LYKKE. —— And he is too closely akin to you, Lady Inger,
to be far from your thoughts at this moment.
    (Looks at her.)
  The last Count Sture left a son ——

LADY INGER (with a cry). Holy Saviour, how know you —— ?

NILS LYKKE (surprised). Be calm, Madam, and let me finish. —
This young man has lived quietly till now with his mother, Sten
Sture’s widow.

LADY INGER (breathes more freely). With —— ? Ah, yes — true,
true!

NILS LYKKE. But now he has come forward openly. He has shown himself in the Dales as leader of the peasants; their numbers are growing day by day; and — as perhaps you know — they are finding friends among the peasants on this side of the border-hills.

LADY INGER (who has in the meantime regained her composure). Sir Councillor, — you speak of all these things as though they must of necessity be known to me. What ground have I given you to believe so? I know, and wish to know, nothing. All my care is to live quietly within my own domain; I give no helping hand to the rebels; but neither must you count on me if it be your purpose to put them down.

NILS LYKKE (in a low voice). Would you still be inactive, if it were my purpose to stand by them?

LADY INGER. How am I to understand you?

NILS LYKKE. Have you not seen whither I have been aiming all this time? — Well, I will tell you all, honestly and straightforwardly. Know, then, that the King and his Council see clearly that we can have no sure footing in Norway so long as the nobles and the people continue, as now, to think themselves wronged and oppressed. We understand to the full that willing allies are better than sullen subjects; and we have therefore no heartier wish than to loosen the bonds that hamper
us
, in effect, quite as straitly as you. But you will scarce deny that the temper of Norway towards us makes such a step too dangerous — so long as we have no sure support behind us.