Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (78 page)

DUKE SKULE.
I, if none other.

HÅKON.
You, Skule, will be harmless after to-morrow’s Assembly.

DUKE SKULE.
Håkon! Tempt not God! Drive me not out upon the last ledge of the deep!

HÅKON.
[Points to the door.]
Go, my lord — and be it forgotten that we have spoken with sharp tongues this night.

DUKE SKULE.
[Looks hard at him for a moment, and says:]
Next time, ‘twill be with sharper tongues we speak.
[Goes to the back
.

HÅKON.
[After a short pause.]
He threatens! No, no, it cannot come to that. He must, he shall give way and do my will; I have need of that strong arm, that cunning brain. — Whatsoever courage and wisdom and strength there may be in this land, all gifts that God has endowed men withal, are but granted them to my uses. For my service did all noble gifts fall to Duke Skule’s share; to defy me is to defy Heaven; ‘tis my duty to punish whosoever shall set himself up against Heaven’s will — for Heaven has done so much for me.

DAGFINN THE PEASANT.
[Enters from the back.]
Be on your guard to-night, my lord; the Duke has surely evil in his mind.

HÅKON.
What say you?

DAGFINN.
What may be his drift, I know not; but sure am I that something is brewing.

HÅKON.
Can he think to fall upon us? Impossible, impossible!

DAGFINN.
No, ‘tis something else. His ships lie clear for sailing; he has summoned an Assembly on board them.

HÅKON.
You must mistake — ! Go, Dagfinn, and bring me sure tidings.

DAGFINN.
Ay ay, trust to me. —
[Goes.

HÅKON.
No,—’tis not to be thought of! The Duke dare not rise against me. God will not suffer it — God, who has hitherto guided all things for me so marvellously. I must have peace now, for ‘tis now I must set about my work! — I have done so little yet; but I hear the unerring voice of the Lord calling to me: Thou shalt do a great king’s-work in Norway!

GREGORIUS JONSSON.
[Enters from the back.]
My lord and King!

HÅKON.
Gregorius Jonsson! Come you hither?

GREGORIUS JONSSON.
I offer myself for your service. Thus far have I followed the Duke; but now I dare follow him no further.

HÅKON.
What has befallen?

GREGORIUS JONSSON.
That which no man will believe, when ‘tis rumoured through the land.

HÅKON.
Speak, speak!

GREGORIUS JONSSON.
I — tremble to hear the sound of my own words; know then ——
[He seizes the
King’s
arm and whispers.

HÅKON.
[Starts backwards with a cry.]
Ha, are you distraught?

GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Would to God I were.

HÅKON.
Unheard of! No, it cannot be true!

GREGORIUS JONSSON.
By Christ’s dear blood, so is it!

HÅKON.
Go, go; sound the trumpet-call for my guard; get all my men under arms. [Gregorius Jonsson
goes.

HÅKON.
[Paces the room once or twice, then goes quickly up to the door of Margrete’s chamber, knocks at it, takes one or two more turns through the room, then goes again to the door, knocks, and calls.]
Margrete!
[Goes on pacing up and down.

MARGRETE.
[In the doorway, attired for the night, with her hair down; she has a red cloak round her shoulders, holding it close together over her breast.]
Håkon! Is it you?

HÅKON.
Yes, yes; come hither.

MARGRETE.
Oh, but you must not look at me; I was in bed already.

HÅKON.
I have other things to think of.

MARGRETE.
What has befallen.

HÅKON.
Give me a good counsel! I have even now received the worst tidings.

MARGRETE.
[Alarmed.]
What tidings, Håkon?

HÅKON.
That there are now two kings in Norway.

MARGRETE.
Two kings in Norway! — Håkon, where is my father? Håkon. He has proclaimed himself king on board his ship; now he is sailing to Nidaros to be crowned.

MARGRETE.
Oh God, thou almighty — !
[Sinks down on the bench, covers her face with her hands and weeps.]

HÅKON.
Two kings in the land!

MARGRETE.
My husband the one — my father the other!

HÅKON.
[Pacing restlessly up and down.]
Give me a good counsel, Margrete! Should I cross the country by way of the Uplands, come first to Nidaros, and prevent the crowning? No, it may not be done; my men are too few; there in the north he is more powerful than I. — Give me counsel; how can I have the Duke slain, ere he come to Nidaros?

MARGRETE.
[Imploringly, with folded hands.]
Håkon, Håkon!

HÅKON.
Can you not hit upon a good device, I say, to have the Duke slain?

MARGRETE.
[Sinks down from the bench in agony and remains kneeling.]
Oh, can you so utterly forget that he is my father?

HÅKON.
Your father — ; ay, ay, it is true; I had forgotten.
[Raises her up.]
Sit, sit, Margrete; comfort you; do not weep; you have no fault in this.
[Goes over to the window.]
Duke Skule will be worse for me than all other foemen! God, God, — why hast thou stricken me so sorely, when I have in nowise sinned! A
knock at the door in the back; he starts, listens, and cries:]
Who knocks so late?

INGA’S VOICE.
One who is a-cold, Håkon!

HÅKON.
[With a cry.]
My mother!

MARGRETE.
[Springs up.]
Inga!

HÅKON.
[Rushes to the door and opens it; Inga is sitting on the doorstep.]
My mother! Sitting like a dog outside her son’s door! And I ask why God has stricken me!

INGA.
[Stretches out her arms towards him.]
Håkon, my child! Blessings upon you!

HÅKON.
[Raising her up.]
Come — come in; here are light and warmth!

INGA.
May I come in to you?

HÅKON.
Never shall we part again.

INGA.
My son — my King — oh, but you are good and loving! I stood in a corner and saw you, as you came from the Bishop’s Palace; you looked so sorrowful; I could not part from you thus.

HÅKON.
God be thanked for that! No one, truly, could have come to me more welcome than you! Margrete — my mother — I have sorely sinned; I have barred my heart against you two, who are so rich in love.

MARGRETE.
[Falls on his neck.]
Oh, Håkon, my beloved husband; do I stand near you now?

HÅKON.
Ay, near me, near me; not to give me cunning counsels, but to shed light over my path. Come what will, I feel the Lord’s strength within me!

DAGFINN THE PEASANT.
[Enters hastily from the back.]
My lord, my lord! the worst has befallen!

HÅKON.
[Smiles confidently while he holds Margrete and Inga closely to him.]
I know it; but there is nought to fear, good Dagfinn! If there be two kings in Norway, there is but one in Heaven — and He will set all straight!

ACT FOURT
H

The great hall in Oslo Palace. King Skule is feasting with the Guard and his Chiefs. In front, on the left, stands the throne, where Skule sits, richly attired, with a purple mantle and the royal circlet on his head. The supper-table, by which the guests are seated, stretches from the throne towards the background. Opposite to Skule sit Paul Flida and Bård Bratte. Some of the humbler guests are standing, to the right. It is late evening; the hall is brightly lighted. The banquet is drawing to a close; the men are very merry, and some of them drunk; they drink to each other, laugh, and all talk together.

PAUL FLIDA.
[Rises and strikes the table.]
Silence in the hall; Jatgeir Skald will say forth his song in honour of King Skule.

JATGEIR.
[Stands out in the middle of the floor.

Duke Skule he summoned the Orething
When ‘twas mass-time in Nidaros town;
And the hells rang and swords upon bucklers clashed bravely
When Duke Skule he donned the crown.

King Skule marched over the Dovrëfjeld,
His host upon snow-shoes sped;
The Gudbranddalesman he grovelled for grace,
But his hoard must e’en ransom his head.

King Skule south over Miosen fared, —
The Uplander cursed at his banner;
King Skule hasted through Raumarike
To Lâka in Nannestad manor.

‘Twas all in the holy Shrove-tide week
We met with the Birchleg horde;
Earl Knut was their captain — the swords with loud tongue
In the suit for the throne made award.

They say of a truth that since Svërre’s days
Was never so hot a fight;
Red-sprent, like warriors’ winding-sheets,
Grew the upland that erst lay white.

They took to their heels did the Birchenlegs,
Flinging from them both buckler and bill there;
Many hundreds, though, took to their heels nevermore,
For they lay and were icily chill there.

No man knows where King Håkon hideth; —
King Skule stands safe at the helm.
All hail and long life to thee, lord, in thy state
As King of all Norway’s realm!

SKULE’S MEN.
[Spring up with loud jubilation
,
hold goblets and beakers aloft
,
clash their weapons, and repeat:
All hail and long life to thee, lord, in thy state As King of all Norway’s realm!

KING SKULE.
Thanks for the song, Jatgeir Skald. ‘Tis as I best like it; for it gives my men no less praise than myself.

JATGEIR.
The King is honoured when his men are praised.

KING SKULE.
Take as guerdon this arm-ring, stay with me, and be of my household; I will have many skalds about me.

JATGEIR.
‘Twill need many, my lord, if all your great deeds are to be’ sung.

KING SKULE.
I will be threefold more bountiful than Håkon; the skald’s song shall be honoured and rewarded like all other noble deeds, so long as I am king. Be seated; now you belong to my household; all you have need of shall be freely given you.

JATGEIR.
[Seats himself.]
Ere long there will be a dearth of what I most need, my lord.

KING SKULE.
What mean you? —

JATGEIR.
Foes to King Skule, whose flight and fall I can sing.

MANY OF THE MEN.
[Amid laughter and applause.]
Well said, Icelander!

PAUL FLIDA.
[To Jatgeir.]
The song was good; but ‘tis known there goes a spice of lying to every skaldwork, and yours was not without it.

JATGEIR.
Lying, Sir Marshal?

PAUL FLIDA.
Ay; you say no man knows where King Håkon is hiding; that is not true; we have certain tidings that Håkon is at Nidaros.

KING SKULE.
[Smiling.]
He has claimed homage for the Kingchild, and given it the kingly title.

JATGEIR.
That have I heard; but I knew not that any man could give away that which he himself does not possess.

KING SKULE.
‘Tis easiest to give what you yourself do not possess.

BÅRD BRATTE.
But it can scarce be easy to beg your way in midwinter from Bergen to Nidaros.

JATGEIR.
The fortunes of the Birchlegs move in a ring; they began hungry and frozen, and now they end in like case.

PAUL FLIDA.
‘Tis rumoured in Bergen that Håkon has forsworn the Church and all that is holy; he heard not mass on New Year’s day.

BÅRD BRATTE.
He could plead lawful hindrance, Paul; he stood all day cutting his silver goblets and dishes to pieces — he had naught else wherewith to pay his household.
[Laughter and loud talk among the guests.

KING SKULE.
[Raises his goblet.]
I drink to you, Bård Bratte, and thank you and all my new men. You fought manfully for me at Lâka, and bore a great part in the victory.

BÅRD BRATTE.
It was the first time I fought under you, my lord; but I soon felt that ‘tis easy to conquer when such a chieftain as you rides at the head of the host. But I would we had not slain so many and chased them so far; for now I fear ‘twill be long ere they dare face us again.

KING SKULE.
Wait till the spring: we shall meet them again, never fear. Earl Knut lies with the remnant at Tunsberg rock, and Arnbiorn Jonsson is gathering a force eastward in Viken; when they deem themselves strong enough, they will soon let us hear from them.

BÅRD BRATTE.
They will never dare to, after the great slaughter at Laka.

KING SKULE.
Then will we lure them forth with cunning.

MANY VOICES.
Ay, ay — do so, lord King!

BÅRD BRATTE.
You have good store of cunning, King Skule. Your foemen have never warning ere you fall upon them, and you are ever there where they least await you.

PAUL FLIDA.
‘Tis therefore that the Birchlegs call us Varbælgs.

KING SKULE.
Others say Vargbælgs; but this I swear, that when next we meet, the Birchlegs shall learn how hard it is to turn such Wolf-skins inside out.

BÅRD BRATTE.
With their good will shall we never meet—’twill be a chase the whole country round.

KING SKULE.
Ay, that it shall be. First we must purge Viken, and make sure of all these eastward parts; then will we get our ships together, and sail round the Naze and up the coast to Nidaros.

BÅRD BRATTE.
And when you come in such wise to Nidaros, I scarce think the monks will deny to move St. Olaf’s shrine out to the mote-stead, as they did in the autumn, when we swore allegiance.

KING SKULE.
The shrine shall out; I will bear my kingship in all ways lawfully.

JATGEIR.
And I promise you to sing a great death-song, when you have slain the Sleeper.
[An outburst of laughter among the men.

KING SKULE.
The Sleeper?

JATGEIR.
Know you not, my lord, that King Håkon is called “Håkon the Sleeper,” because he sits as though benumbed ever since you came to the throne?

BÅRD BRATTE.
They say he lies ever with his eyes closed. Doubtless he dreams that he is still king.

KING SKULE.
Let him dream; he shall never dream himself back into the kingship.

JATGEIR.
Let his sleep be long and dreamless, then shall I have stuff for songs.

THE MEN.
Ay, ay, do as the skald says!

KING SKULE.
When so many good men counsel as one, the counsel must be good; yet will we not talk now of that matter. But one promise I will make: each of my men shall inherit the weapons and harness, and gold and silver, of whichever one of the enemy he slays; and each man shall succeed to the dignities of him he lays low. He who slays a baron shall himself be a baron; he who slays a thane, shall receive his thaneship; and all they who already hold such dignities and offices, shall be rewarded after other kingly sort.

THE MEN.
[Spring up in wild delight.]
Hail, hail, King Skule! Lead us against the Birchlegs!

BÅRD BRATTE.
Now are you sure to conquer in all battles.

PAUL FLIDA.
I claim Dagfinn the Peasant for myself; he owns a good sword that I have long hankered after.

BÅRD BRATTE.
I will have Bård Torsteinsson’s hauberk; it saved his life at Lâka, for it withstands both cut and thrust.

JATGEIR.
Nay, but let me have it; ‘twill fit me better; you shall have five golden marks in exchange.

BÅRD BRATTE.
Where will you find five golden marks, Skald?

JATGEIR.
I will take them from Gregorius Jonsson when we come northward.

THE MEN.
[All talking together.]
And I will have — I will have —
[The rest becomes indistinct in the hubbub.

PAUL FLIDA.
Away! Every man to his quarters; bethink you that you are in the King’s hall.

THE MEN.
Ay, ay, — hail to the King, hail to King Skule!

KING SKULE.
To bed now, good fellows! We have sat long over the drinking-table to-night.

A MAN-AT-ARMS.
[As
the crowd is trooping
— To-morrow we will cast lots for the Birchlegs’ goods.

ANOTHER.
Rather leave it to luck!

SEVERAL.
Nay, nay!

OTHERS.
Ay, ay!

BÅRD BRATTE.
Now the Wolf-skins are fighting for the bear-fell.

PAUL FLIDA.
And they have yet to fell the bear.
[All go out by the back.

KING SKULE.
[Waits till the men are gone; the tension of his features relaxes; he sinks upon a bench.]
How weary I am, weary to death. To live in the midst of that swarm day out and day in, to look smilingly ahead as though I were so immovably assured of right and victory and fortune. To have no creature with whom I may speak of all that gnaws me so sorely.
[Rises with a look of terror.]
And the battle at Laka! That I should have conquered there! Håkon sent his host against me; God was to judge and award between the two kings and I conquered, conquered, as never any before has conquered the Birchlegs! Their shields stood upright in the snow, but there was none behind them — the Birchlegs took to the woods, and fled over upland and moor and lea as far as their legs would carry them. The unbelievable came to pass; Håkon lost and I won. There is a secret horror in that victory. Thou great God of Heaven! there rules, then, no certain law on high, that all things must obey? The right carries with it no conquering might?
[With a change of tone, wildly.]
I am sick, I am sick! — Wherefore should not the right be on my side? May I not deem that God himself would assure me of it, since he let me conquer?
[Brooding.]
The possibilities are even; — not a feather-weight more on the one side than on the other; and yet —
[shakes his head]
— yet the balance dips on Håkon’s part. I have hatred and hot desire to cast into my scale, yet the balance dips on Håkon’s part. When the thought of the kingly right comes over me unawares, ‘tis ever he, not I, that is the true king. When I would see myself as the true king, I must do it with forethought, I must build up a whole fabric of subtleties, a work of cunning; I must hold memories aloof, and take faith by storm. It was not so before. What has befallen to fill me so full of doubt? The burning of the letter? No — that made the uncertainty eternal, but did not add to it. Has Håkon done any great and kingly deed in these later days? No, his greatest deeds were done while I least believed in him.
 
[Seats himself on the right.]
  
What is it? Ha, strange! It comes and goes like a marsh-fire; it dances at the tip of my tongue, as when one has lost a word and cannot find it.
[Springs up.]
Ha! Now I have it! No — ! Yes, yes! Now I have it!—”Norway has been a kingdom, it shall become a people; all shall be one, and all shall feel and know that they are one!” Since Håkon spoke those madman’s words, he stands ever before me as the rightful king.
[Whispers with fixed and apprehensive gaze.]
What if God’s calling glimmered through these strange words? If God had garnered up the thought till now, and would now strew it forth — and had chosen Håkon for his sower?

PAUL FLIDA.
[Enters from the back.]
My lord King, I have tidings for you.

KING SKULE.
Tidings?