Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (84 page)

PETER.
‘Tis the Queen!

PAUL FLIDA.
Ay; she is talking with Dagfinn the Peasant. Hush! Peter. They are making for Elgesæter. The King-child is with them!

PAUL FLIDA.
And the Queen’s ladies.

PETER.
But only four men! Up, up, King Skule — now is your kingdom saved!

KING SKULE.
My kingdom. ‘Tis dark, my kingdom — like the angel’s that rose against God.
A party of
Monks
comes from the right.
A Monk. Who speaks there? Is it King Skule’s men.

PAUL FLIDA.
King Skule himself.

THE MONK.
[To Skule.]
God he praised that we met you, dear lord! Some townsmen gave us to know that you had taken the upward path, and we are no less unsafe than you in Nidaros.

PETER.
You have deserved death, you who denied to give forth St. Olaf’s shrine.

THE MONK.
The Archbishop forbade it; but none the less we would fain serve King Skule; we have ever held to him. See, we have brought with us robes of our Order for you and your men; put them on, and then can you easily make your way into one convent or another, and can seek to gain grace of Håkon.

KING SKULE.
Av, let me put on the robe; my son and I must stand on consecrated ground. I will to Elgesæter.

PETER.
[Softly, to Paul Flida.]
See that my father comes safely thither.

PAUL FLIDA.
Bethink you that there are Birchlegs at Elgesæter.

PETER.
But four men; you may easily deal with them, and once inside the convent walls they will not dare to touch you. I will seek Bård Bratte.

PAUL FLIDA.
Nay, do not so!

PETER.
Not on the King’s ship, but at Elgesæter, must the outlaws save the kingdom for my father.
[Goes quickly out to the right.

A VÂRBÆLG.
[Whispering to another.]
Go you to Elgesæter with Skule?

THE OTHER.
Hist; no; the Birchlegs are there!

THE FIRST.
Neither will I go; but say nought to the rest.

THE MONK.
And now away, two and two, — one spearman and one monk.

ANOTHER MONK.
[Sitting on a stump behind the rest.]
I will guide King Skule.

KING SKULE.
Know you the way?

THE MONK.
The broad way.

THE FIRST MONK.
Haste you; let us take different paths, and meet outside the convent gate.
[They go out among the trees, to the right; the fog lifts and the comet shows itself, red and glowing, through the hazy air.

KING SKULE.
Peter, my son — !
[Starts backwards.]
Ha, there is the flaming sword in heaven!

THE MONK.
[Sitting behind him on the stump.]
And here am I! King Skule.
Who are you?

THE MONK.
An old acquaintance.

KING SKULE.
Paler man have I never seen.

THE MONK.
But you know me not?

KING SKULE.
‘Tis you that are to lead me to Elgesæter.

THE MONK.
‘Tis I that will lead you to the throne.

KING SKULE.
Can you do that?

THE MONK.
I can, if you but will it.

KING SKULE.
And by what means?

THE MONK.
By the means I have used before; — I will take you up into a high mountain and show you all the glory of the world.

KING SKULE.
All the glory of the world have I seen ere now, in dreams of temptation.

THE MONK.
‘Twas I that gave you those dreams.

KING SKULE.
Who are you?

THE MONK.
An envoy from the oldest Pretender in the world.

KING SKULE.
From the oldest Pretender in the world?

THE MONK.
From the first Earl, who rose against the greatest kingdom, and himself founded a kingdom that shall endure beyond doomsday.

KING SKULE.
[Shrieks.]
Bishop Nicholas!

THE MONK.
[Rising.]
Do you know me now?
We were friends of yore,
And ‘tis you that have brought me back;
Once the self-same galley our fortunes bore,
And we sailed on the self-same tack.

At our parting I quailed, in the gloom and the blast;
For a hawk in his talons had gripped my soul fast;
I besought them to chant and to ply the bell,
And I bought me masses and prayers as well, —
They read fourteen, though I’d paid but for seven;
Yet they brought me no nearer the gates of heaven.

KING SKULE.
And you come from down yonder — ?

THE MONK.
Yes, from the kingdom down yonder I’m faring; The kingdom men always so much miscall. I vow ‘tis in nowise so bad after all, And the heat, to my thinking, is never past bearing.

KING SKULE.
And it seems you have learnt skald-craft, old Baglerchieftain!

THE MONK.
Not only skald-craft, but store of Latinity! Once my Latin was not over strong, you know; Now few can beat it for ease and flow. To take any station in yonder vicinity, Ay, even to pass at the gate, for credential A knowledge of Latin is well-nigh essential. You can’t but make progress with so many able And learned companions each day at the table, — Full fifty ex-popes by my side carouse, and Five hundred cardinals, skalds seven thousand.

KING SKULE.
Greet your Master and give him my thanks for his friendship. Tell him he is the only king who sends help to Skule the First of Norway.

THE MONK.
Hear now, King Skule, what brings me to you — My Master’s henchmen down there are legion, And each up here is allotted a region; They gave Norway to me, as the place I best knew. Håkon Håkonsson serves not my Master’s will; We hate him, for he is our foeman still — So he must fall, leaving you at the helm, The sole possessor of crown and realm.

KING SKULE.
Ay, give me the crown! When once I have that, I will rule so as to buy myself free again.

THE MONK.
Ay, that we can always talk of later — We must seize the time if we’d win the fight. King Håkon’s child sleeps at Elgesæter; Could you once wrap him in the web of night, Then like storm-swept motes will your foes fly routed, Then your victory’s sure and your kingship undoubted!

KING SKULE.
Think you so surely that the victory were mine?

THE MONK.
All men in Norway are sighing for rest; The king with an heir is the king they love best — A son to succeed to the throne without wrangling; For the people are tired of this hundred-years’ jangling. Rouse you, King Skule! one great endeavour! The foe must perish to-night or never! See, to the northward how light it has grown, See how the fog lifts o’er fiord and o’er valley — There gather noiselessly galley on galley — Hark! men are marching with rumble and drone! One word of promise, and all is your own — Hundreds of glittering sails on the water, Thousands of warriors hurtling to slaughter.

KING SKULE.
What word would you have?

THE MONK.
For raising you highest, my one condition Is just that you follow your heart’s ambition; All Norway is yours, to the kingship I’ll speed you, If only you vow that your son shall succeed you!

KING SKULE.
[Raising his hand as if for an oath.]
My son shall —
[Stops suddenly, and breaks forth in terror.]
The church robber! All the might to him! Ha! now I understand; — you seek for his soul’s perdition! Get thee behind me, get thee behind me!
[Stretches out his arms to heaven.]
Oh have mercy on me, thou to whom I now call for help in my sorest need!
[He falls prone to the earth.

THE MONK.
Accursed! He’s slipped through my fingers at last — And I thought of a surety I held him so fast! But the Light, it seems, had a trick in store That I knew not of — and the game is o’er. Well, well; what matters a little delay?
Perpetuum mobile’s
well under way;
My might is assured through the years and the ages, The haters of light shall be still in my wages; In Norway my empire for ever is founded, Though it be to my subjects a riddle unsounded.
[Coming forward.
While to their life-work Norsemen set out Will-lessly wavering, daunted with doubt, While hearts are shrunken, minds helplessly shivering, Weak as a willow-wand wind-swept and quivering, — While about one thing alone they’re united, Namely, that greatness be stoned and despited, — When they seek honour in fleeing and falling Under the banner of baseness unfurled, — Then Bishop Nicholas ‘tends to his calling, The Bagler-Bishop’s at work in the world!
[Pie disappears in the fog among the trees.

KING SKULE.
[After a short pause, half rises and looks a round.]
Where is he, my black comrade?
[Springs up.]
My guide, my guide, where are you? Gone! — No matter; now I myself know the way, both to Elgesæter and beyond. —
[Goes out to the right.
The courtyard of Elgesæter Convent. To the left lies the chapel, with an entrance from the courtyard; the windows are lighted up. Along the opposite side of the space stretch some lower buildings; in the hack, the convent wall with a strong gate, which is locked. It is a clear moonlight night. Three Birchleg Chiefs stand by the gate;
Margrete, Lady Ragnhild,
and
Dagfinn the Peasant
come out from the chapel.

LADY RAGNHILD.
[Half to herself.]
King Skule had to flee into the church, you say! He, he, a fugitive! begging at the altar for peace — begging for his life mayhap — oh no, no, that could never be; but God will punish you who dared to let it come to this!

MARGRETE, My dear, dear mother, curb yourself; you know not what you say; ‘tis your grief that speaks.

LADY RAGNHILD.
Hear me, ye Birchlegs. ‘Tis Håkon Håkonsson that should lie before the altar, and beseech King Skule for life and peace. A Birchleg. It ill beseems loyal men to listen to such words.

MARGRETE.
Bow your heads before a wife’s sorrow!

LADY RAGNIIILD.
King Skule doomed! Look to yourselves, look to yourselves all of you, when he regains his power.

DAGFINN.
That will never be, Lady Ragnhild.

MARGRETE.
Hush, hush!

LADY RAGNHILD.
Think you Håkon Håkonsson dare let his doom be fulfilled if the King should fall into his hands?

DAGFINN.
King Håkon himself best knows whether a king’s oath can be broken.

LADY RAGNHILD.
[To Margrete.]
And this man of blood have you followed in faith and love! Are you your father’s child? May the wrath of heaven — ! Go from me, go from me!

MARGRETE.
Blessed be your lips, although now they curse me.

LADY RAGNHILD.
I must down to Nidaros and into the church to find King Skule. He sent me from him when he sat victorious on the throne; then, truly, he had no need of me — now will he not be wroth if I come to him. Open the gate for me; let me go to Nidaros!

MARGRETE.
My mother, for God’s pity’s sake
[A loud knocking at the convent gate.

DAGFINN.
Who knocks?

KING SKULE.
[Without.]
A king.

DAGFINN.
Skule Bårdsson.

LADY RAGNHILD.
King Skule.

MARGRETE.
My father!

KING SKULE.
Open, open!

DAGFINN.
We open not here to outlaws.

KING SKULE.
‘Tis a king who knocks, I tell you; a king who has no roof over his head; a king whose life is forfeit if he reach not consecrated ground.

MARGRETE.
Dagfinn, Dagfinn, ‘tis my father.

DAGFINN.
[Goes to the gate and opens a small shutter.]
Come you with many men to the convent?

KING SKULE.
With all the men that were true to me in my need

DAGFINN.
And how many be they?

KING SKULE.
Fewer than one.

MARGRETE.
He is alone, Dagfinn.

LADY RAGNHILD.
Heaven’s wrath fall upon you if you deny him sanctuary!