Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (74 page)

DAGFINN.
[Who has been standing somewhat towards the back, in conversation with a man in travelling dress who has entered the hall, approaches and says with emotion:]
Vegard cannot come, my lord.

HÅKON.
How know you that?

DAGFINN.
I have even now had tidings of him.

HÅKON.
What tidings?

DAGFINN.
That Vegard Væradal is slain.

MANY VOICES.
Slain!

HÅKON.
Who slew him?

DAGFINN.
Andres Skialdarband, the Earl’s friend.
[A short pause; uneasy whispers pass among the men.

HÅKON.
Where is the messenger?

DAGFINN.
[Leading the man forward.]
Here, my lord King.

HÅKON.
What caused the slaying?

THE MESSEXGER.
That no man knows. The talk fell upon the Finnish tribute, and on a sudden Andres sprang up and gave him his death-wound.

HÅKON.
Had there been quarrels between them before?

THE MESSENGER.
Ever and anon. Andres would often say that a wise councillor here in the south had written to him that he should be as rock and flint toward Vegard Væradal.

DAGFINN.
Strange! Ere Vegard set forth he told me that a wise councillor had said he should be as rock and flint toward Andres Skialdarband.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[Spitting.]
Shame upon such councillors.

HÅKON.
We will not question more closely from what root this wrong has grown. Two faithful souls have I lost this day. I could weep for Vegard, but ‘tis no time for weeping; it must be life for life. Sir Earl, Andres Skialdarband is your sworn retainer; you offered me all service in requital for Ivar Bodde. I take you at your word, and look to you to see that this misdeed be avenged.

EARL SKULE.
Of a truth, bad angels are at work between us to-day. On any other of my men, I would have suffered you to avenge the murder ——

HÅKON.
[Expectantly.]
Well?

EARL SKULE.
But not on Andres Skialdarband.

HÅKON.
[Flashing out.]
Will you shield the murderer?

EARL SKULE.
This murderer I must shield.

HÅKON.
And the reason?

EARL SKULE.
That none but God in heaven may know.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[Softly, to Dagfinn.]
I know it.

DAGFINN.
And I suspect it.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Say nought, good Dagfinn!

HÅKON.
Earl, I will believe as long as I may, that you mean not in good sooth what you have said to me —

EARL SKULE.
Were it my own father Andres Skialdarband had slain, he should still go free. Ask me no more.

HÅKON.
Good. Then we ourselves must do justice in the matter!

EARL SKULE.
[With an expression of alarm.]
There will be bloodshed on both sides, my lord King!

HÅKON.
So be it; none the less shall the deed be avenged.

EARL SKULE.
It shall not be! — It cannot be!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Nay, there the Earl is right.

HÅKON.
Say you so, my honoured lord?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Andres Skialdarband has taken the Cross.

HÅKON AND EARL SKULE.
Taken the Cross!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
And has already sailed from the land.

EARL SKULE.
‘Tis well for all of us!

HÅKON.
The day wanes; the bridal-feast must now be at an end. I thank you, Sir Earl, for all the honour that has been shown me in these days. — You are bound for Nidaros, as I think?

EARL SKULE.
That is my intent.

HÅKON.
And I for Viken. — If you, Margrete, choose rather to abide in Bergen, then do so.

MARGRETE.
Whither you go, I go, until you forbid.

HÅKON.
Good; then come with me.

SIGRID.
Now is our kindred spread far abroad.
[Kneels to Håkon.]
Grant me a grace, my lord King.

HÅKON.
Rise, Lady Sigrid; whatever you crave shall be granted.

SIGRID.
I cannot go with the Earl to Nidaros. The nunnery at Rein will soon be consecrated; write to the Archbishop — take order that I be made Abbess.

EARL SKULE.
You, my sister?

HÅKON.
You will enter a nunnery!

SIGRID.
[Rising.]
Since my wedding-night of blood, when the Baglers came and hewed down my bridegroom, and many hundreds with him, and fired Nidaros town at all its corners — since then, it has been as though the blood and flames had dulled and deadened my sight for the world around me. But power was given me to catch glimpses of that which other eyes see not — and one thing I see now: a time of great dread hanging over this land!

EARL SKULE.
[Vehemently.]
She is sick! Heed her not!

SIGRID.
A plenteous harvest is ripening for him that reaps in the darkness. Every woman in Norway will have but one task now — to kneel in church and cloister, and pray both day and night.

HÅKON.
[Shaken.]
Is it prophecy or soul-sickness that speaks thus?

SIGRID.
Farewell, my brother — we shall meet once more.

EARL SKULE.
[Involuntarily.]
When?

SIGRID.
[Softly.]
When you take the crown; in the hour of danger, — when you are fain of me in your direst need.
[Goes out to the right, with
Margrete, Lady Ragnhild,
and the women.

HÅKON.
[After a short pause, draws his sword, and says with quiet determination:]
All the Earl’s men shall take the oath of fealty.

EARL SKULE.
[Vehemently.]
Is this your settled purpose?
[Almost imploringly.]
King Håkon, do not so!

HÅKON.
No Earl’s man shall leave Bergen ere he has sworn fealty to the King.
[Goes out with his Guard. All except the
Earl
and the
Bishop
follow him.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
He has dealt hardly with you to-day! [Earl Skule
is silent, and looks out after the
King,
as though struck dumb.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[More loudly.]
And mayhap not king-born after all.

EARL SKULE.
[Turns suddenly, in strong excitement, and seizes the Bishop by the arm.]
Trond the Priest’s confession — where is it?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
He sent it to me from England ere he died; I know not by whom — and it never reached me.

EARL SKULE.
But it must be found!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
I doubt not but it may.

EARL SKULE.
And if you find it, you will give it into my hands?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
That I promise.

EARL SKULE.
You swear it by your soul’s salvation?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
I swear it by my soul’s salvation!

EARL SKULE.
Good; till that time I will work against Håkon, wherever it can be done secretly and unnoted. He must be hindered from growing mightier than I, ere the struggle begins.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
But should it prove that he is in truth king-born — what then?

EARL SKULE.
Then I must try to pray — to pray for humbleness, that I may serve him with all my might, as a faithful chieftain.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
And if he be not the rightful king?

EARL SKULE.
Then shall he give place to me! The kingly title and the kingly throne, host and guard, fleet and tribute, towns and strongholds, all shall be mine!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
He will betake him to Viken —

EARL SKULE.
I will drive him out of Viken!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
He will establish himself in Nidaros. Earl Skule I will storm Nidaros!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
He will shut himself up in Olaf’s holy church

EARL SKULE.
I will force the sanctuary

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
He will fly to the high altar, and cling to Olaf shrine —

EARL SKULE.
I will drag him down from the altar, though I drag the shrine along with him —

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
But the crown will still be on his head, Earl Skule!

EARL SKULE.
I will strike off the crown with my sword!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
But if it sits too tight — ?

EARL SKULE.
Then, in God’s name or Satan’s — I will strike off the head along with it! —
[Goes out to the right.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[Looks out after him, nods slowly, and says:]
Ay — ay—’tis in this mood I like the Earl!

ACT THIR
D

A room in the Bishop’s Palace at Oslo.
 
On the right is the entrance door. In the back, a small door, standing open, leads into the Chapel, which is lighted up. A curtained door in the left wall leads into the Bishop’s sleeping-room. In front, on the same side, stands a cushioned couch. Opposite, on the right, is a writing-table, with letters, documents, and a lighted lamp. At first the room is empty; behind the curtain on the left, the singing of monks is heard. Presently
PAUL FLIDA,
in travelling dress, enters from the right, stops by the door, waits, looks around, and then knocks three times with his staff upon the floor.

SIRA VILIAM.
[Comes out from the left, and exclaims in a hushed voice.]
Paul Flida! God be praised; — then the Earl is not far off.

PAUL FLIDA.
The ships are already at Hoved-isle; I came on ahead. And how goes it with the Bishop?

SIRA VILIAM.
He is even now receiving the Extreme Unction.

PAUL FLIDA.
Then there is great danger.

SIRA VILIAM.
Master Sigard of Brabant has said that he cannot outlive the night.

PAUL FLIDA.
Then meseems he has summoned us too late.

SIRA VILIAM.
Nay, nay, — he has his full senses and some strength to boot; every moment he asks if the Earl comes not soon.

PAUL FLIDA.
You still call him Earl; know you not that the King has granted him the title of Duke?

SIRA VILIAM.
Ay, ay, we know it; ‘tis but old custom. Hist!
[He and
Paul Flida
cross themselves and bow their heads. From the Bishop’s door issue two acolytes with candles, then two more with censers; then priests hearing chalice, paten, and crucifix, and a church banner; behind them a file of priests and monks; acolytes with candles and censers close the procession, which passes slowly into the chapel. The door is shut behind them.

PAUL FLIDA.
So now the old lord has made up his account with the world.

SIRA VILIAM.
I can tell him that Duke Skule comes so soon as may be?

PAUL FLIDA.
He comes straight from the wharf up here to the Palace. Farewell! —
[Goes.
[Several priests, among them
Peter,
with some of the
Bishop’s
servants, come out from the left with rugs, cushions, and a large brazier.

SIRA VILIAM.
Why do you this? A Priest.
[Arranging the couch.]
The Bishop wills to lie out here.

SIRA VILIAM.
But is it prudent?

THE PRIEST.
Master Sigard thinks we may humour him. Here he is. Bishop Nicholas
enters, supported by
Master Sigard
and a priest. He is in his canonicals, but without crozier and mitre.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Light more candles.
[He is led to a seat upon the couch, near the brazier, and is covered with rugs.]
Viliam! Now have I been granted forgiveness for all my sins! They took them all away with them; — meseems I am so light now.

SIRA VILIAM.
The Duke sends you greeting, my lord; he has already passed Hoved-isle!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
‘Tis well, very well. Belike the King, too, will soon be here. I have been a sinful hound in my day, Viliam; I have grievously trespassed against the King. The priests in there averred that all my sins should be forgiven me; — well well, it may be so; but ‘tis easy for them to promise; ‘tis not against them that I have trespassed. No no; it is safest to have it from the King’s own mouth.
[Exclaims impatiently.]
Light, I say! ‘tis so dark in here.

SIRA VILIAM.
The candles are lighted —

MASTER SIGARD.
[Stops him by a sign, and approaches the Bishop.]
How goes it with you, my lord?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
So-so — so-so; my hands and feet are cold.

MASTER SIGARO.
[Half aloud, as he moves the brazier nearer.]
Ha—’tis the beginning of the end.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[Apprehensively, to Viliam.]
I have commanded that eight monks shall chant and pray for me in the chapel to-night. Have an eye to them; there are idle fellows among them. [Sira Viliam
points silently towards the chapel, whence singing is heard, which continues during what follows.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
So much still undone, and to go and leave it all! So mueh undone, Viliam!

SIRA VILIAM.
My lord, think of heavenly things!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
I have time before me; — till well on in the morning, Master Sigard thinks —

SIRA VILIAM.
My lord, my lord!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Give me mitre and erozier!—’Tis very well for you to say that I should think —
[A priest brings them.]
So, set the cap there, ‘tis too heavy for me; give me the erozier in my hand; there, now am I in my armour. A bishop! — The Evil One dare not grapple with me now!

SIRA VILIAM.
Desire you aught beside?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
No. Stay — tell me: — Peter, Andres Skialdarband’s son, — all speak well of him —

SIRA VILIAM.
In truth, his is a blameless soul.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Peter, you shall watch beside me until the King or the Duke shall come. Leave us, meanwhile, ye others, but be at hand.
[All except
Peter
go out on the right.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[After a short pause.]
Peter!

PETER.
[Approaches.]
My lord?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Hast ever seen old men die?

PETER.
NO.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
They are all afeard; that I dare swear. There on the table lies a large letter with seals to it; give it to me.
[Peter brings the letter.]
’Tis to your mother.

PETER.
To my mother?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
You must get you northward with it to Halogaland. I have written to her touching a great and weighty matter; tidings have come from your father.

PETER.
He is fighting as a soldier of God in the Holy Land. Should he fall there, he falls on hallowed ground; for there every foot’s-breadth of earth is sacred. I commend him to God in all my prayers.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Is Andres Skialdarband dear to you?

PETER.
He is an honourable man; but there lives another man whose greatness my mother, as it were, fostered and nourished me withal.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[Hurriedly and eagerly.]
Is that Duke Skule?

PETER.
Ay, the Duke — Skule Bårdsson. My mother knew him in younger days. The Duke must sure be the greatest man in the land!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
There is the letter; get you northward with it forthwith! — Are they not singing in there?

PETER.
They are, my lord!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Eight lusty fellows with throats like trumpets, they must surely help somewhat, methinks.

PETER.
My lord, my lord! Why not pray yourself?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
I have too much still undone, Peter. Life is all too short; — besides, the King will surely forgive me when he comes ——
[Gives a start in pain.

PETER.
You are suffering?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
I suffer not; but there is a ringing in mine ears, a twinkling and flickering before mine eyes —

PETER.
‘Tis the heavenly bells ringing you home, and the twinkling of the altar-lights God’s angels have lit for you.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Ay, sure ‘tis so; — there is no danger if only they lag not with their prayers in there — Farewell; set forth at once with the letter.

PETER.
Shall I not first — ?

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Nay, go; I fear not to be alone.

PETER.
Well met again, then, what time the heavenly bells shall sound for me too. —
[Goes out on the right.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The heavenly bells, — ay, ‘tis easy talking when you still have two stout legs to stand upon. — So much undone! But much will live after me, notwithstanding. I promised the Duke by my soul’s salvation to give him Trond the Priest’s confession if it came into my hand;—’tis well I have not got it. Had he certainty, he would conquer or fall; and then one of the twain would be the mightiest man that ever lived in Norway. No no, — what
I
could not reach none other shall reach. Uncertainty serves best; so long as the Duke is burdened with that, they two will waste each other’s strength, wheresoever they may; towns will be burnt, dales will be harried, — neither will gain by the other’s loss —
[Terrified]
Mercy, pity! It is I who bear the guilt — I, who set it all agoing!
[Calming himself]
Well, well, well! but now the King is coming—’tis he that suffers most — he will forgive me — prayers and masses shall be said; there is no danger; — I am a bishop, and I have never slain any man with mine own hand.—’Tis well that Trond the Priest’s confession came not; the saints are with me, they will not tempt me to break my promise. — Who knocks at the door? It must be the Duke!
[Rubs his hands with glee.]
He will implore me for proofs as to the kinship, — and I have no proofs to give him! Inga of Varteig
enters; she is dressed in black, with a cloak and hood.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[Starts.]
Who is that?

INGA.
A woman from Varteig in Borgasyssel, my honoured lord.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The King’s mother!

INGA.
So was I called once.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Go, go. ‘Twas not I counselled Håkon to send you away.

INGA.
What the King does is well done; ‘tis not therefor I come.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Wherefore then?

INGA.
Gunnulf, my brother, is come home from England —

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
From England — !

INGA.
He has been away these many years, as you know, and has roamed far and wide; now has he brought home a letter —

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[Breathlessly.]
A letter — ?

INGA.
From Trond the Priest. ‘Tis for you, my lord.
[Hands it to him.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Ah, truly; — and you bring it?

INGA.
It was Trond’s wish. I owe him great thanks since the time he fostered Håkon. It was told me that you were sick; therefore I set forth at once; I have come hither on foot —

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
There was no such haste, Inga! Dagfinn the Peasant
enters from the right.

DAGFINN.
God’s peace, my honoured lord!

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Comes the King?

DAGFINN.
He is now riding down the Ryen hills, with the Queen and the King-child and a great following.

INGA.
[Rushes up to Dagfinn.]
The King, — the King! Comes h e hither?

DAGFINN.
Inga! You here, much-suffering woman!

INGA.
She is not much-suffering who has so great a son.

DAGFINN.
Now will his hard heart be melted.

INGA.
Not a word to the King of me. Yet, oh, I must see him! — Tell me, — comes he hither?

DAGFINN.
Ay, presently.

INGA.
And it is dark evening. The King will be lighted on his way with torches?

DAGFINN.
Yes.

INGA.
Then will I hide me in a gateway as he goes by; — and then home to Varteig. But first will I into Hallvard’s church; the lights are burning there to-night; there will I call down blessings on the King, on my fair son. —
[Goes out to the right.

DAGFINN.
I have fulfilled mine errand; I go to meet the King.

BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Bear him most loving greeting, good Dagfinn!

DAGFINN.
[As he goes out to the right.]
I
would not be Bishop Nicholas to-morrow.