Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (53 page)

Sigurd. Hiördis, Hiördis, so have I dreamt in my wild youth; let it be forgotten — tempt me not!

Hiördis
[impressively]
. It is the Norn’s will that we two shall hold together; it cannot be altered. Plainly now I see my task in life: to make thee famous over all the world. Thou hast stood before me every day, every hour of my life; I sought to tear thee out of my mind, but I lacked the might; now it is needless, now that I know thou lovest me.

Sigurd
[with forced coldness]
. If that be so — then know — I
have
loved thee; it is past now; — I have forgot those days.

Hiördis. Sigurd, in that thou liest! So much at least am I worth, that if thou hast loved me once, thou canst never forget it.

Sigurd
[vehemently]
. I must; and now I will.

Hiördis. So be it; but thou
canst
not. Thou wilt seek to hinder me, but in vain; ere evening falls, Gunnar and Dagny shall know all.

Sigurd. Ha, that wilt thou never do!

Hiördis. That will I do!

Sigurd. Then must I know thee ill; high-souled have I ever deemed thee.

Hiördis. Evil days breed evil thoughts; too great has been thy trust in me. I will, I must, go forth by thy side — forth to face life and strife; Gunnar’s roof-tree is too low for me.

Sigurd
[with emphasis]
. But honour between man and man hast thou highly prized. There lack not grounds for strife between me and Gunnar; say, now, that he fell by my hand, wouldst thou still make all known and follow me?

Hiördis
[starting]
. Wherefore askest thou?

Sigurd. Answer me first: what wouldst thou do, were I to thy husband his bane.

Hiördis
[looks hard at him]
. Then must I keep silence and never rest until I had seen thee slain.

Sigurd
[with a smile]
. It is well, Hiördis — I knew it.

Hiördis
[hastily]
. But it can never come to pass!

Sigurd. It must come to pass; thou thyself hast cast the die for Gunnar’s life and mine.

[Gunnar, with some House-carls, enters from the back.]

Gunnar
[gloomily, to Hiördis]
. See now; the seed thou hast sown is shooting bravely!

Sigurd
[approaching]
. What is amiss with thee?

Gunnar. Sigurd, is it thou? What is amiss? Nought but what I might well have foreseen. As soon as Dagny, thy wife, had brought tidings of Kåre the Peasant, I took horse and rode to my neighbours to crave help against him.

Hiördis
[eagerly]
. Well?

Gunnar. I was answered awry where’er I came: my dealings with Kåre had been little to my honour, it was said; — hm, other things were said to boot, that I will not utter. — I am spurned at by all; I am thought to have done a dastard deed; men hold it a shame to make common cause with me.

Sigurd. It shall not long be held a shame; ere evening comes, thou shalt have men enough to face Kåre.

Gunnar. Sigurd!

Hiördis
[in a low voice, triumphantly]
. Ha, I knew it well!

Sigurd
[with forced resolution]
. But then is there an end to the peace between us; for hearken to my words, Gunnar — thou hast slain Thorolf, my wife’s kinsman, and therefore do I challenge thee to single combat
⁹
tomorrow at break of day.

⁹
Holmgang
— see note, p. 138
[
Holmgang
=duel.]

[Hiördis, in violent inward emotion, makes a stride towards Sigurd, but collects herself and remains standing motionless during the following.]

Gunnar
[in extreme astonishment]
. To single combat —— ! Me! — Thou art jesting, Sigurd!

Sigurd. Thou art lawfully challenged to single combat; ‘twill be a game for life or death; one of us must fall!

Gunnar
[bitterly]
. Ha, I understand it well. When I came, thou didst talk with Hiördis alone; she has goaded thee afresh!

Sigurd. May hap.
[Half towards Hiördis.]
A high-souled woman must ever guard her husband’s honour.
[To the men in the background.]
And do ye, house-carls, now go to Gunnar’s neighbours, and say to them that tomorrow he is to ply sword-strokes with me; none dare call that man a dastard who bears arms against Sigurd Viking!

[The House-carls go out by the back.]

Gunnar
[goes quickly up to Sigurd and presses his hands, in strong emotion]
. Sigurd, my brave brother, now I understand thee! Thou venturest thy life for my honour, as of old for my happiness!

Sigurd. Thank thy wife; she has the largest part in what I do. To-morrow at break of day ——

Gunnar. I will meet thee.
[Tenderly.]
Foster-brother, wilt thou have a good blade of me? It is a gift of price.

Sigurd. I thank thee; but let it hang. — Who knows if next evening I may have any use for it.

Gunnar
[shakes his hand]
. Farewell, Sigurd!

Sigurd. Again farewell, and fortune befriend thee this night!

[They part. Gunnar goes out to the right. Sigurd casts a glance at Hiördis, and goes out by the back.]

Hiördis
[after a pause, softly and thoughtfully]
. To-morrow they fight! Which will fall?
[After a moment’s silence, she bursts forth as if seized by a strong resolution.]
Let fall who will — Sigurd and I shall still be together!

Act Fourth
.

[By the coast. It is evening; the moon breaks forth now and again, from among dark and ragged storm-clouds. At the back, a black grave-mound, newly heaped up.]

[Örnulf sits on a stone, in front on the right, his head bare, his elbows resting on his knees, and his face buried in his hands. His men are digging at the mound; some give light with pine-knot torches. After a short pause, Sigurd and Dagny enter from the boat-house, where a wood fire is burning.]

Dagny
[in a low voice]
. There sits he still.
[Holding Sigurd back.]
Nay, speak not to him!

Sigurd. Thou say’st well; it is too soon; best leave him!

Dagny
[goes over to the right, and gazes at her father in quiet sorrow]
. So strong was he yesterday when he bore Thorolf’s body on his back; strong was he as he helped to heap the grave-mound; but when they were all laid to rest, and earth and stones piled over them — then the sorrow seized him; then seemed it of a sudden as though his fire were quenched.
[Dries her tears.]
Tell me, Sigurd, when thinkest thou to fare homeward to Iceland?

Sigurd. So soon as the storm abates, and my quarrel with Gunnar is ended.

Dagny. And then wilt thou buy land and build thee a homestead, and go a-viking no more?

Sigurd. Yes, yes, — that have I promised.

Dagny. And I may believe without doubt that Hiördis spoke falsely when she said that I was unworthy to be thy wife?

Sigurd. Yes yes, Dagny, trust thou to my word.

Dagny. Then am I glad again, and will try to forget all the evil that here has been wrought. In the long winter evenings we will talk together of Gunnar and Hiördis, and ——

Sigurd. Nay, Dagny, wouldst thou have things go well with us, do thou never speak Hiördis’ name when we sit together in Iceland.

Dagny
[mildly upbraiding him]
. Unjust is thy hatred towards her. Sigurd, Sigurd, it is unlike thee.

One of the Men
[approaching]
. There now, the mound is finished.

Örnulf
[as if awaking]
. The mound? Is it — ay, ay ——

Sigurd. Now speak to him, Dagny.

Dagny
[approaching]
. Father, it is cold out here; a storm is gathering to-night.

Örnulf. Hm; heed it not; the mound is close-heaped and crannyless; they lie warm in there.

Dagny. Ay, but thou ——

Örnulf. I? I am not cold.

Dagny. Nought hast thou eaten today; wilt thou not go in? The supper-board stands ready.

Örnulf. Let the supper-board stand; I have no hunger.

Dagny. But to sit here so still — trust me, thou wilt take hurt of it; thou art ever wont to be stirring.

Örnulf. True, true; there is somewhat that crushes my breast; I cannot draw breath.

[He hides his face in his hands. A pause. Dagny seats herself beside him.]

Dagny. To-morrow wilt thou make ready thy ship and set forth for Iceland?

Örnulf
[without looking up]
. What should I do there? Nay, I will to my sons.

Dagny
[with pain]
. Father!

Örnulf
[raises his head]
. Go in and let me sit here; when the storm has played with me for a night or two, the game will be over, I ween.

Sigurd. Thou canst not think to deal thus with thyself.

Örnulf. Dost marvel that I fain would rest? My day’s work is done; I have laid my sons in their grave.
[Vehemently.]
Go from me! — Go, go!

[He hides his face.]

Sigurd
[softly, to Dagny, who rises]
. Let him sit yet a while.

Dagny. Nay, I have one rede yet untried; — I know him.
[To Örnulf.]
Thy day’s work done, say’st thou? Nay, that it is not. Thou hast laid thy sons in the grave; — but art thou not a skald? It is meet that thou should’st sing their memory.

Örnulf
[shaking his head]
. Sing? Nay, nay; yesterday I could sing; I am too old today.

Dagny. But needs must thou; honourable men were thy sons, one and all; a song must be made of them, and that can none of our kin but thou.

Örnulf
[looks inquiringly at Sigurd]
. To sing? What thinkest
thou
, Sigurd?

Sigurd. Meseems it is but meet; thou must e’en do as she says.

Dagny. Thy neighbours in Iceland will deem it ill done when the grave-ale is drunk over Örnulf’s children, and there is no song to sing with it. Thou hast ever time enough to follow thy sons.

Örnulf. Well well, I will try it; and thou, Dagny, give heed, that afterwards thou may’st carve the song on staves.

[The men approach with the torches, forming a group around him; he is silent for a time, reflecting; then he says:]

Bragi’s
¹⁰
gift is bitter

when the heart is broken;

sorrow-laden singer,

singing, suffers sorely.

Natheless, since the Skald-god

gave me skill in song-craft,

in a lay loud-ringing

be my loss lamented!

[Rises.]

Ruthless Norn
¹¹
and wrathful

wrecked my life and ravaged,

wiled away my welfare,

wasted Örnulf’s treasure.

Sons had Örnulf seven,

by the great gods granted; —

lonely now and life-sick

goes the greybeard, sonless.

Seven sons so stately,

bred among the sword-blades,

made a mighty bulwark

round the snow-locked sea-king.

Levelled lies the bulwark,

dead my swordsmen seven;

gone the greybeard’s gladness,

desolate his dwelling.

Thorolf, — thou my last-born!

Of the bold the boldest!

Soon were spent my sorrow

so but thou wert left me!

Fair thou wast as springtide,

fond towards thy father,

waxing straight and stalwart

to so wight a warrior.

Dark and drear his death-wound

leaves my life’s lone evening;

grief hath gripped my bosom

as ‘twixt hurtling targes.

Nought the Norn denied me

of her rueful riches,

showering woes unstinted

over Örnulf’s world-way.

Weak are now my weapons.

But, were god-might given me,

then, oh Norn, I swear it,

scarce should’st thou go scatheless!

Dire were then my vengeance;

then had dawned thy doomsday,

Norn, that now hast left me

nought but yonder grave-mound.

Nought, I said? Nay, truly,

somewhat still is Örnulf’s,

since of Suttung’s
¹²
mead-horn

he betimes drank deeply.

[With rising enthusiasm.]

Though she stripped me sonless,

one great gift she gave me —

songcraft’s mighty secret,

skill to sing my sorrows.

On my lips she laid it,

goodly gift of songcraft;

loud, then, let my lay sound,

e’en where they are lying!

Hail, my stout sons seven!

Hail, as homeward ride ye!

Songcraft’s glorious god-gift

stauncheth woe and wailing.

¹⁰
Bragi, the god of poetry and eloquence.

¹¹
See note, p. 175
[The “Nornir” were the Fates of northern mythology.]

¹²
Suttung was a giant who kept guard over the magic mead of poetical inspiration.

[He draws a deep breath, throws back the hair from his brow, and says calmly:]

So — so; now is Örnulf sound and strong again.
[To the men.]
Follow me to the supper-board, lads; we have had a heavy day’s work!

[Goes with the men into the boat-house.]

Dagny. Praised be the Mighty Ones on high that gave me so good a rede.
[To Sigurd.]
Wilt thou not go in?

Sigurd. Nay, I list not to. Tell me, are all things ready for tomorrow?

Dagny. They are; a silk-sewn shroud lies on the bench; but I know full surely that thou wilt hold thee against Gunnar, so I have not wept over it.

Sigurd. Grant all good powers, that thou may’st never weep for my sake.
[He stops and looks out.]

Dagny. What art thou listening to?

Sigurd. Hear’st thou nought —
there?

[Points towards the left.]

Dagny. Ay, there goes a fearsome storm over the sea!

Sigurd
[going up a little towards the background]
. Hm, there will fall hard hailstones in that storm.
[Shouts.]
Who comes?

Kåre the Peasant
[without on the left]
. Folk thou wot’st of, Sigurd Viking!

[Kåre the Peasant, with a band of armed men, enters from the left.]

Sigurd. Whither would ye?

Kåre. To Gunnar’s hall.

Sigurd. As foemen?

Kåre. Ay, trust me for that! Thou didst hinder me before; but now I ween thou wilt scarce do the like.

Sigurd. Maybe not.

Kåre. I have heard of thy challenge to Gunnar; but if things go to my mind, weak will be his weapons when the time comes for your meeting.

Sigurd. ‘Tis venturesome work thou goest about; take heed for thyself, Peasant!

Kåre
[with defiant laughter]
. Leave that to me; if thou wilt tackle thy ship to-night, we will give thee light for the task! — Come, all my men; here goes the way.

[They go off to the right, at the back.]

Dagny. Sigurd, Sigurd, this misdeed must thou hinder.

Sigurd
[goes quickly to the door of the hut, and calls in]
. Up from the board, Örnulf; take vengeance on Kåre the Peasant.

Örnulf
[comes out, with the rest]
. Kåre the Peasant — where is he?

Sigurd. He is making for Gunnar’s hall to burn it over their heads.

Örnulf. Ha-ha — let him do as he will; so shall I be avenged on Gunnar and Hiördis, and afterwards I can deal with Kåre.

Sigurd. Ay, that rede avails not; wouldst thou strike at Kåre, thou must seek him out to-night; for when his misdeed is done, he will take to the mountains. I have challenged Gunnar to single combat; him thou hast safely enough, unless I myself — but no matter. — To-night he must be shielded from his foes; it would ill befit thee to let such a dastard as Kåre rob thee of thy revenge.