Fenris, the Wolf: A Tragedy

The Project Gutenberg eBook, Fenris, the Wolf, by Percy MacKaye This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: Fenris, the Wolf A Tragedy Author: Percy MacKaye Release Date: June 21, 2018 [eBook #57371] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FENRIS, THE WOLF*** E-text prepared by Paul Marshall, Mary Glenn Krause, MFR, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See https://archive.org/details/fenriswolftraged00mack Transcriber’s note: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals. FENRIS, THE WOLF [Illustration: Publisher's logo] FENRIS, THE WOLF A Tragedy by PERCY MACKAYE Author of “The Canterbury Pilgrims” New York The Macmillan Company London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd. 1905 All rights reserved Copyright, 1905, By the Macmillan Company. Set up and electrotyped. Published April, 1905. Norwood Press J. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. TO NORMAN HAPGOOD CRITIC AND FRIEND AUTHOR’S NOTE The invocation of Ingimund to Odin, on page 38, is adapted from Fragments of a Spell Song, preserved as an insertion in the Great Play of the Wolsungs, and to be found, both original and translation, in the _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_ of Vigfusson and Powell, Oxford, 1883. For dramatic reasons, various liberties have been taken by the writer with those elements of this play which are drawn from Scandinavian mythology. For example, according to mythology, the Fenris-wolf is the offspring, not of Odin, but of Loki; the wolf and Baldur are not brothers; no mention is made of the wolf’s Pack. Moreover, in the Old Icelandic utterances of the Pack—for purposes of sound merely—a preterite form has twice been used for a present tense, as in _Ulfr sofnathi_, “the wolf sleepeth.” Where authenticity, however, has harmonised with the dramatic idea, it has equally been the writer’s aim. CORNISH, N.H., March, 1905. CHARACTERS OF THE PROLOGUE ODIN BALDUR THOR LOKI FENRIS FENRIS’S PACK FREYJA OF THE PLAY INGIMUND, _Priest of Odin_ EGIL, _a Hunter_ ARFI, _a Dwarf, his brother_ YORUL, _liegeman of Egil_ ROLF, _liegeman of Egil_ ERIC, _liegeman of Egil_ WULDOR, _liegeman of Arfi_ A LITTLE BOY THORDIS, _daughter of Ingimund and priestess of Odin’s temple_ FRIDA, _one of her Virgins_ A LITTLE GIRL FOLK, PRIESTS, VIRGINS, CHILDREN SCENES THE PROLOGUE. _The crater of a volcano; dawn._ ACT FIRST. SCENE I. _The rune-stone of Odin, outside a tribal temple; morning._ SCENE II. _Egil’s lodge in the forest; toward twilight._ ACT SECOND. SCENE I. _A prison chamber; day._ SCENE II. _The same; night._ ACT THIRD. _A forest glade; the pool of Freyja; early morning._ ACT FOURTH. _The rune-stone again; sunset._ TIME AND PLACE _The Age of Northern Mythology; Iceland. The incidents of the play are conceived as taking place within the cycle of a year._ THE PROLOGUE Foreground—a frozen crater _At back, a cavern. Overhanging this, at left and back, snow-crusted cliffs, partly bared by the winds, stand out against the stars._ _On one of these_, ODIN _seated; on his shoulders, two ravens. Beneath him, in the crater and cavern, half-discernible_, FENRIS _and his_ PACK. ODIN He sleeps, yet restive still; with eyelids squint Through which his eyes, in dreams still shifting, flash Like flame through knot-holes. Yet he sleeps; beside him His wild pack, crouching, share his chain.—A lull: Betwixt moonset and sunrise, one at least, One lull in that insensate harsh defiance, The beast-night-barking of my wolfish son. You stars! Fenris is quiet. Now the dews May fall in silence, now the mountain birds Nest silent by the unawakened morning, The wide dark fold its wings and dream. Now peace, The infinite soliloquy of thought, Descends on Odin. [_A silent pause, during which the first pale signs of dawn appear on the crags. Odin whispers to the ravens on his shoulders and they fly away. He sits motionless and serene._] THE PACK [_Slumbrously._] Ulfr! Ulfr sofnathi! ODIN [_Gazes again on_ FENRIS.] That this dread should breathe! And yon beast born from out my loins—to me, To me, that from this forehead plucked an eye To pawn for Mimi’s knowledge.—Wisdom, truth, Beauty, and law, the tranquil goals of mind, All these had I attained, and I a god; Yet on the lank, alluring hag of Chaos Begat this son, this living fang. THE PACK [_Slumbrously._] Ulfr! Ulfr sofnathi! ODIN O thou Dumb spirit of the mind! O mystery! Were there a god whom Odin might invoke, To thee would Odin sue for pity.—Ages, A thousand ages, anguish; Anguish, remorse, forgiveness, malediction, Light into darkness, horror into hope, Revolving evermore.—O pain, O pain, Sear not my spirit blind!—Thou, tameless wolf, God of the void eternal retrograde, Prone deity of self, by that thou art— Illimitable passion, joyance mad Of being, hate, brute-cunning, gnawing lust, Fenris, I curse thee. [_Fenris wakes._] THE PACK [_Wildly._] Ulfr! Ulfr vaknathi! FENRIS Father! ODIN Still that name! FENRIS Father! ODIN Fenris, my son, forgive me. FENRIS Fetch Fenris Freyja. ODIN Bastard wolf, Be silent. FENRIS Baldur, my brother’s bride betrothèd, Freyja, fetch me. ODIN Still no longing but ’tis lust, No aspiration but ’tis appetite. FENRIS Anarch! anarch! anarch! Father, free me! ODIN Free thee, thou poor antagonist. Knowest thou Not yet why thou art chained? Retarded thing, Emancipate thyself! What might it avail Though Odin burst these links and loosed thee?—Thou Thyself art thine own bondage and thy pain. THE PACK Ulfr! Ulfr! FENRIS Anarch! anarch! Ulfr! ODIN Yet could’st thou show some genesis of good, Some spring of growth. Hadst thou, in all these ages, Waxed toward my stature imperceptibly Even as the seed, that germinates in darkness, Feels toward the sky; yea, hadst thou now one pale Potential spark of godhood, nobler desire, Evolving intellect, one lineal trait To prove that upward through thy brutish heart Yearns infinite Reason, even now, poor son, Would I strike off these fetters, set thee free, Thee and thy pack, and put my hope in time. THE PACK Heil! Heil, Othinn! FENRIS Fenris! Free him. ODIN But lo! instead, what art thou? Ye faint stars, Before you close your eyes in day, once more Behold him! Ye icy craters and hoar caves, Thou solitary dawn, eternal sky, Perennial snows—you timeless presences, Behold your consummation: this, even this, Is Odin’s elder son, creation’s heir! FENRIS Anarch! anarch! anarch! anarch! anarch! [_Odin, covering his face, turns away and disappears behind the crag. Fenris, with his pack, retires into the cavern, dragging his chain. Outside_ BALDUR _is heard singing, joined, in chorus, by the voices of nature on whom he calls_.] BALDUR Flushing peak, fainting star, Freyja! Torches in thy temple are, Freyja! Spirits of air, Anses and elves, Brightens the dawn, Freyja is gone. Come! let us go to her, girding ourselves. CHORUS Freyja, where art thou? Where? Where? [FREYJA _enters, looking fearfully around her_.] FREYJA Those giant beards and backs!—They turn and look. The peaks pursue me, and the nudging cliffs Thrust out great chins and stare. Where should this lead? BALDUR [_Outside._] Mortal day, man’s desires, Freyja! Feed on earth thine altar-fires, Freyja! Spirits of earth, Wood-sprites and Wanes, Gone is our mirth, Sorrow remains. Come! let us hasten and bid her beware! CHORUS Freyja, where art thou? Where? Where? FREYJA Can this place be i’ the world? And were such shapes Wrought in the dear creation? And that voice— Was it this crater’s frozen mouth that moaned For blossoms and the south wind and my love? BALDUR [_Enters._] Freyja! FREYJA O Baldur, come! BALDUR What hast thou seen? Why hast thou left the silver roof of shields, Thy lover’s eyes, the laughter of the gods, To wander forth in night? FREYJA Barkings I heard. BALDUR Hush, Freyja! FREYJA Through the music of the gods Faintly I heard it knell and yearn for me; And so I stole away. But tell me— BALDUR Come! FREYJA Tell me what thing of nameless woe— BALDUR Oh, come And ask not. Come away to Valhal. [_He leads her impetuously away from the crater toward the sunrise._] FREYJA [_Resists gently._] Baldur! BALDUR Freyja, look down! Spring leaps among the valleys And calls his universal flocks, to drink The love of Freyja. The forests rush together and the groves, And the male oaks, like herded elk at war, Tangle their budding antlers, and moan loud For Freyja’s love. Look down! The silvered pastures and the lakes Lift all their sacrificial clouds, to crave The love of Freyja; And day’s bright stallion, snorting in the east, Paws the pale stream of morning into gold And champs his golden curb to burning foam For Freyja’s love. [_He draws her farther away._] FREYJA But if _one_ yearn in vain— [_The rattle of Fenris’s manacles echoes in the crater._] THE PACK Ulfr! Ulfr vaknathi! FREYJA Listen! They cry— “The wolf awakeneth!” What wolf? And why That clang of steel? BALDUR His chain. FREYJA [_In dreadful wonder._] But _he_? BALDUR A beast Untamed and tameless.—Ask not with thine eyes!— Fenris, my brother. FREYJA [_Springs joyfully toward the crater._] Ah! BALDUR [_Stays her._] Where art thou going? FREYJA To greet my lover’s kindred. Were it not well? BALDUR Oh, would it were! Look not; this kin is monstrous. FREYJA Is it not a god as we? BALDUR It is a god, Freyja, but not as we.—It is the wolf-god, Lord of the dumb and kithless wild, that live To breed and kill their forms of dreadful beauty— A vacant sacrifice to him: the doe, That stills all night her knocking heart, to hear The wood-cat’s footfall, breathes mute prayer to Fenris; The frothing stag, that blazons the black boar With gules of death, bruits hymns to Fenris; yet Their pangs assuage him not, for he himself Remains the abject deity of lust, His rites, the stretched claw and the stiffened mane; His priest—a sated fang; his altar—fear. FREYJA But why makes he his sanctuary thus Lonely in desolation? BALDUR ’Tis the will Of Odin. Ask no more. This cleft he chose Wherein to hide the secret woe of the world, That never thou shouldst look upon its face. FREYJA I? BALDUR Thou, O maiden! Thou art the hope of the world. FENRIS Freyja! FREYJA He calls me. FENRIS Freyja! FREYJA Hark! He yearns For me! BALDUR [_Urging her away._] ’Tis Odin’s will. FENRIS Freyja! FREYJA He cries In pain. Hold me no longer.—Fenris! ODIN [_Entering, intercepts her path with his spear._] Stay! FREYJA Allfather! hark his pain. Alas, poor wolf! ODIN Poor wolf? Poor world! poor blind, precarious Reason, Beneath whose sovereign throne this horror sits, Cat-crouching to usurp it.—Fear him; go! FENRIS Ai! ai! anarch! Freyja! FREYJA He yearns for me. Am I not beautiful? Am I not holy? Wherefore should I fear? All living things love Freyja; gods and men, Anses and elves and helpless animals. Where I walk glittering, there lovers press And consecrate their eyes and beat their hearts Like moths against the moon. And shall I go Nor smile once kindly on him? Even the moon Is kinder to her loves. ODIN He craves no smile From thee, nor ever smiled into the face Of love since his birth-hour. He lusts for thee. FREYJA Why should he not? Hath Odin never lusted? What mind that knows the lust of intellect Shall mock desire? Ah! Who that ever yearned, Yearned not in ignorance? BALDUR Have pity, father! ODIN [_To Freyja._] Child, pitiest thou this thing? FREYJA Hath not its voice Cried out immortally and craved me? Pity? _Love_ is a kind of pity for itself That longs so endlessly. Allfather, never Ere now hast thou gainsaid me. ODIN Yet must now! This bitterness is mine alone to bear. O Freyja! O my Baldur! You of all The creatures of my will, bright lovers, you Only are happy. Be so still. Depart! Forget these wolvish cries; seek not to help Evil unsolvable. FREYJA What then is evil, That lovers may not solve it? ODIN [_His face turning wistful with a beautiful light, lifts his obstructive spear, and stands from the path._] Hope of the world! FENRIS Freyja! ODIN Behold! [_He watches with the look of wistfulness as Freyja and Baldur, springing to the brink of the crater, gaze down upon Fenris._] FREYJA Ah me! BALDUR Fenris, my brother! FREYJA O pain! Why dost thou look upon me so? FENRIS Fair art, Freyja; shalt Fenris fear not? FREYJA What wouldst thou? FENRIS Lithe thy limbs are; lief am to lie with thee. FREYJA Are these snows thy dwelling-place? No flowers grow here. Take these. [_Freyja lets fall some of her flowers into the crater._] FENRIS [_Tearing them, as the Pack yells._] Anarch! anarch! FREYJA [_Drawing back._] Alas! BALDUR Peace, brother! FREYJA Thou lovest me. Why, then, art thou not glad? FENRIS Chafe, choke me, chains; chaffeth the churl at me! FREYJA Take heart; we come to bring thee peace. O Baldur! [_Clinging to Baldur, she gazes with fascinated awe upon Fenris, who, pacing ever in and out, amid his involving Pack, with the swift, incessant shuttle movement of a caged wild thing, upturns his shifting eyes in yearning._] FENRIS Free me, Freyja; frore am I, frost-bit, Go we together into greenwood glad. Mirk under moon-mist mad will meet thee, Hunt thee from hiding, thy heart-beats hear! Press thee, panting! THE PACK Ulfr! Ulfr! FENRIS Bite—bark at thee— THE PACK Ulfr! Ulfr! FENRIS Miles, miles, miles! FREYJA [_To Baldur._] He loves me, yet his looks are terrible. He saw me, yet he smiled not. Flowers I gave him, But he destroyed them. Sorrowful he is, Yet hath no tears in his eyes.—What shall we do? FENRIS Free me, Freyja; fair art thou, froward— Go we together into greenwood glad. Burns thine eyebeam bright as the bitch-wolf’s, Longeth Fenris in thy lair to lie; Longeth to chase thee. THE PACK Ulfr! Ulfr! FENRIS Chafe, champ thee— THE PACK Ulfr! Ulfr! FENRIS Leave thee with child. FREYJA Baldur, what reeling darkness snows around us From heaven? The rose of dawn is stung with blight. ODIN [_Aside._] O mystery! O will behind the will, How shall this end? BALDUR From heaven no darkness falls; It is the glamour of his woeful eyes, That spet the night within them. FREYJA [_Half wildly, whispers at Baldur’s ear._] It must cease! The shy bird hath his song within the wood, The shepherd’s call is sweet along the hills, To husband and to lover are the sounds Of gracious voices in the home places,— To _him_, the ceaseless clanging of his chain. BALDUR O Freyja, we will minister to him, Until for him the shy bird’s song is sweet, And sweet the shepherd’s call along the hills. Fenris! [_Swinging from the brink of the crater, he lets himself down. As he descends, Fenris springs toward him to the limit of his chain._] FENRIS Hail, Baldur! hail, brother! Boast thy beauty now; Woo now and wive thee, welcome to Fenris’ woe. All elf-gifts thou asked Odin gave thee, Sunlight, summer, song for solace, Fair face, freedom, Freyja to friend. Me what gave he? Mark!—Mountain-mist, madness, Monstrous made me, marr’d, wolf-masked, Cramped in snow-crater, frost-crusted, chained; Numb, naked, night-winds gnaw me, Blistereth black ice, biteth my bones. BALDUR Thou shalt be free. FENRIS Me mocketh, mocketh! Ai! BALDUR Fenris, my brother, hear me! I bring thee freedom. FENRIS [_Holding out his chain to Baldur._] Liest;—loose me! BALDUR Hush! I know the secret How thou mayst slip these shackles. I have learned From Odin how he binds thee. Wilt thou hear? FENRIS [_Craftily beckoning Baldur under the shadow of a cleft._] Tss! Wise is the One-Eyed. Tss! read me thy riddle now. BALDUR Know then, O Fenris, Odin of himself Is weak to hold thee. Of his kin, another Conniveth with him. FENRIS Kin, sayst? BALDUR Thou, his son. Thou forgest Chains stubborner than Odin’s, links of lust Mightier than these of steel, which are themselves The might of these thou wearest. O my brother, Lay off thine own, and Odin’s shall be straw. FENRIS Thus readest thy riddle? BALDUR Thus findest thou freedom: do our father’s will. His law is wisdom. All the folk of heaven And earth and hell obey him gladly; thou— Submit thou also; make thine oath to Odin. FENRIS Oathless be Odin; am _I_ earth’s overlord! [_Odin beckons to the eastward with his spear. From the distance comes a flash of fire and faint thunder._] BALDUR Hush, brother, hush! He hears; for thy pain’s sake Remember he is Allfather. Be meek. FENRIS Am _I_ Asa’s heir!—I—I—I am Allfather! [_By a dazzling river of light and thunder-peal, the whole scene is riven. On the peaks at either side appear_ LOKI _and_ THOR. _Loki holds in his hand a serpentine whip of many lashes, as of glittering brass; Thor, a white hammer. The Pack cower, moaning; Fenris stands glaring, with head bent backward as in sudden pain._] ODIN Hail, Loki! Welcome, Thor! in happy time. Are ye not come to crown me Odin the Wise? Shake out the live scorn of thy withering laughter, Loki, over the world: Odin hath been defied! Hammer it, Thor, on the clanged doors of hell, Till their intestine thunders toll our doom— “The wolf shall sit alone, at Valhal’s feast, And eat of Odin’s heart!” FREYJA Alas! What words ODIN This is mine heir. Hath it not spoken? This Shall sit one day in Odin’s seat. Mine heir! The heir of all the gods. Behold then, gods, How this, your prince, receives his tutelage. BALDUR Father, what wilt thou do? ODIN Tame him, the tameless; The eternal goad against the eternal stone. Yea, though I tame him not till doomsday darken. [_To Loki._] Loosen thy scourge. [_Held by his chain, Fenris flees wildly in circles, and seeking to hide himself, finally crouches in terror, centre. He is prevented from entering the cavern by Thor, who stands there._] FENRIS Anarch! Ai! anarch! Anarch! Ulfr! Ulfr! BALDUR AND FREYJA Have pity! ODIN Pity ask Of him; this wolf must reign or I. Strike, Loki! Let thy bright lashes scorch with all their snakes Till the live, brassy serum eats and crawls Into the writhing blood. Begin! BALDUR AND FREYJA Have mercy! [_As Loki swings his whip of fire, the Pack beneath fall on their faces. Amid them Fenris crouches at half stature. Baldur and Freyja kneel as frozen, with lifted hands toward Odin. Thus in sudden twilight and silence, fine silent lashes of unintermittent lightning uncoil and coil, as the scourge is whirled, around the cringing body of the wolf. A shudder only reveals his extreme pangs._] ODIN Cease! [_Loki ceases._] Wolf, what of thine oath? FENRIS Oathless am I. BALDUR Fenris, be tamed! FENRIS I—I—I am Allfather! ODIN Sublime inanity! heroic ape! This strong defiance were itself divine, And thou a titan-martyr, had thy pride One rational aim commensurate with thy woe. But all thy suffering is purposeless. Strike, Thor! Make of his obdurate heart thine anvil. THE PACK [_Some fawning toward Odin, others seeking protection of Fenris._] Heil, Othinn! Ulfr, heil! [_As Fenris, by a gesture of rage, drives these from him into the cavern, Thor raises his hammer. Immediate night shuts out the scene. In this surge of darkness the deep rolling of thunder swells and culminates, as by waves, in the blank burst of the thunder-bolt. Through a half-lull, amid moaning of the Pack, are heard voices from the crater._] BALDUR’S VOICE She leaps. Hold, Thor! She casteth herself down. FREYJA’S VOICE Beat on my heart, for mine containeth his. ODIN Light! light once more! [_The thunder dies away. Sudden dawn breaks, ripening soon to daylight. Within the crater, Freyja is revealed, standing over the exhausted form of Fenris._] Freyja, what hast thou dared? FREYJA The bolt of iron and the scourge of brass Avail not, Odin.—Let me conquer him For thee! ODIN How wouldst thou tame him? FREYJA By my love, Yea, and the exceeding might of Baldur’s love, Whose gracious arts of poesie shall aid me. Grant him to us! BALDUR Grant him to us, O father! ODIN [_Going apart._] O thou unknown Destroyer and Deliverer, Rape not again from me this nestling hope! [_He descends into the crater._] BALDUR AND FREYJA Grant him to us, Allfather, to be tamed! FENRIS [_Clutching the snow at their feet, feebly._] I—I am Allfather! ODIN Lovers, I grant him to you; but not here, For this concession must be darkly hid Till you have proved its beauteous consummation. Not, therefore, here I grant, but yonder. [_Indicates the earth below them._] There You shall enact a vast experiment, Whereof the pregnant sequel none may know Save only him, the master magian, Whose prentices we gods and titans are, And the blind wills of men his medium. For he, with silent face from us averted, Holds in the awful hollow of his hand The world—his crucible, and plies with them Ordeals of anguish and of ecstasy. Therefore the earth must be your place of passion, And there in slumber, even as mortals dream, Slumb’ring, that they are bright immortal gods, You shall be mortals, and shall walk as men, Forgetful of your immortality. [_Faintly, as from a great distance, there rises a sound of many voices crying, “Odin! Asa Odin!” and the rumour of beasts in pain._] Hark, now! from far below us, the deep moan And lowing of a mortal sacrifice. Speak, Thor! What seest thou at Odin’s altar? THOR A mighty hunter and a twisted dwarf Make sacrifice; rivals they seem, in feud, And claim the hand of Thordis, thy priest’s daughter, And the priest cries on Odin for a portent To choose which of the brothers shall be bridegroom. ODIN Lo, then, my portent! We ourselves, we four, Shall be those rival brothers, priest and bride; Loki and Thor shall ravish them with death That we, in resurrection, may take on Their bodies as our mortal vestiture. For I will act with you this mystery, Dreaming myself the priest of mine own shrine; And Freyja, child, thy goddess heart shall beat Within the heart of Thordis, mortal maid; Thy boundless spirit, Baldur, shall be pinched Within the gnarled limbs of the stunted dwarf, Twisted with pain, as now thy brother is; Thou, envious wolf, jealous of Baldur’s joys! Thy feverish being shall invest the power And glorious stature of the hunter. So Shalt thou have scope and license measureless To woo the heart of Freyja. So shall ye, Lovers, make proof of your conjoinèd love And trothèd meekness, whether these be strong To tame this wolf, and from his blinding lusts Evolve a nobler consciousness, or weak To let themselves be blasted, and the world Itself eclipsed in universal chaos. FREYJA If we be strong? ODIN The wolf-god shall be tamed. FENRIS [_In rage, half rising._] Oathless am I unto Odin ever! [_He sinks back, faint._] BALDUR [_To Odin._] And tamed? ODIN He shall go free. FREYJA Even in such freedom As ours? ODIN O Freyja, larger liberty— The mightier peace which mortals only know— Even death. FENRIS Freedom! Anarch—anarch! Freedom! LOKI Hail, Odin; smoketh thine altar afar. Burneth to thee the cloven bullock’s heart; The sacrificers watch and wait thy sign. ODIN Let them behold it! Thou and Thor, stretch out Your wings in storm, and ravish up their souls With night and death. [_To Baldur and Freyja._] Come, you my children! Now Shall our immortal fires be mixed with clay In the great crucible, and these our spirits No more shall know themselves for gods, until The shadowy Master shows the great solution. [_In faint lightning and thunder, Loki and Thor disappear. Odin ascends the crater, followed by Baldur and Freyja. Climbing together the steep slope, these two look backward upon the prostrate wolf who, following them with his eyes, moves not until they reach the summit. There, against a sky of sunlit storm, Freyja pauses and stretches forth her arm to him._] FREYJA Dear wolf! FENRIS [_Starts up madly._] Freyja! death—freedom! freedom! death!—Now—now! [_As Freyja and the gods pass from sight beyond the cliffs, Fenris gnaws at his chain in inarticulate fury._] ACT I SCENE I: Outside a tribal temple. _The gable beams are low; only the entrance end of the building, set at an angle, on the left, is visible. In the distance rises a snow-capped volcano, its slopes—in the nearer background—pied with the young leaves and blossoms of early spring; against these, jutting from behind the temple, a gallows-tree. On the right, at back, a solitary pine of great age sways solemn boughs over half the scene, the centre of which is occupied by a vast monolith, or boulder, tapering upward to a jagged end. The face of this stone, graved deeply with runes, is (on its lower half) dark carmine and smooth as ivory; from behind it blue smoke is rising; before it stands an altar of stone, on which is set a silver bowl._ _In front of this altar stands_ INGIMUND, _the temple priest, clad in a sleeveless leathern smock to the knees; his arms are reddened with sacrifice; from his throat—beneath his long, grey hair—hangs an image of Odin; on his right wrist a ring of plain gold; in his left hand a spear. On either side of him an altar priest holds a bunch of sprinkling twigs. From the temple four other priests are bearing a slaughtered bullock to the fire behind the rune-stone. Massed in the right foreground are_ EGIL _and his men; on the left_, ARFI _and his men. Egil, noble of stature, stands moodily filing the grooves of a crossbow; Arfi, bent and dwarfed, sits with his ear close to a harp, which he thrums softly._ _From the right background, beneath the pine, enters, singing, a procession of the folk, escorting an ark on wheels, drawn by oxen, whose flanks are wreathed with flowers, and whose horns are adorned with gold. Following the ark, which passes on into the temple, horses and sheep are led to the sacrifice. These, as they pass before him, Ingimund marks with the sign of a spear, while the altar priests sprinkle them with blood from the silver bowl._ _At the entrance of the temple stand_ THORDIS _and her_ VIRGINS, _who take from the beasts their garlands and hang them on the doors and outer walls. The men and women of the throng, chanting to a barbaric cadence, lift up their arms and faces to the sky._ THE FOLK Wanderer of earth and air, Walker on the giant flood, Odin! Asa Odin! Pilgrim of the storm! Lyer in the Sybil’s lair, Reader of the runes of blood, Thou who hearkenest all prayer— World-spirit and worm, Odin! Asa Odin! Hear us, Allfather! [_Distant thunder._] FRIDA Thordis, he hears. THE VIRGINS He hears! THE FOLK He hears! YORUL [_To Rolf._] Behold The dwarf, where he sits shrivelled by his harp. Ho, Arfi! hear’st thou Odin? Hast invited The trolls, thy cousins, to the bridal? WULDOR Silence! He listens to the stars behind the storm. YORUL The tree-frogs, Wuldor. He, thy master, is Their father. WULDOR So thy master is their uncle. YORUL My master shall be bridegroom, never fear! Hath Arfi slain his boar? WULDOR Hath Egil sung The slaying of his boar? YORUL Hath Arfi leashed The wild stag by the horns and led him home? WULDOR Hath Egil read the runes on Odin’s stone? YORUL Weaklings and women ye! WULDOR Thou liest, Yorul. YORUL [_Strikes Wuldor._] Ho, Egil, here! WULDOR [_Retaliating._] Ho, Arfi! [_The followers, from either side, spring forward and fight fiercely. Ingimund strikes among them with his spear._] INGIMUND Fools of anger! This ground is Odin’s; he alone may judge Which of your masters shall betroth his priestess. Back! and await his sign.—Come, Thordis. FRIDA [_Parting with Thordis by the temple._] Joy And love be thine, dear lady. [_Leaving her maidens, Thordis comes quietly from the temple and stands before the rune-stone and Ingimund, who, with his spear, beckons also Egil and Arfi. As these join Thordis, the altar priests, with a heavy chain of gold, enclose the four in a circular space, while the folk chant as before._] THE FOLK Save us, Lord, from lovers’ hate, Shelter us from brothers’ feud! Odin! Asa Odin! Only thou art wise. Choose unto this maid a mate Hallowed by thy sanctitude, Send thine omen while we wait, Making sacrifice. Odin! Asa Odin! Save us, Allfather! [_Thunder; storm gathers and the scene grows darker, as bigger clouds of smoke roll upward from behind the rune-stone._] INGIMUND [_Removing the gold circlet from his wrist._] Here, Your right hands here—all three—on Odin’s ring. [_To Egil, then Arfi._] Press deeper in the sand thy foot, now thine. [_To the Priests._] Fill up the footprints with the sacred blood. Brother in brother’s footstep, hark your oath— Your oath to abide by Asa Odin’s will. [_As Egil and Arfi grasp the ring, lightning begins to play over the scene, and thunder deepens the voices of the people._] THE FOLK Odin! Odin! Asa Odin! Send upon thy folk a portent! INGIMUND [_Lifting his face and spear toward the sky, intones._] By thy runes forever writ On Allwaker’s ear and Allswift’s hoof, On Sleipni’s teeth and the sledge-bands, On the Wolf’s claw and the eagle’s beak, On the bloody wings and the bridge’s end!— THE FOLK Odin! Odin! Asa Odin! Send upon thy folk a portent! INGIMUND By thy runes forever writ On Brage’s tongue and the bear’s paw, On the midwife’s palm and the amber god, On Norna’s nail and the owl’s neb, On wine and wort and the Sibyl’s seat!— THE FOLK Odin! Odin! Asa Odin! Send thy portent, O Allfather! FRIDA Look! look! himself doth come. THE FOLK Fly! fly! Oh, fly! FRIDA Himself doth come, and with him all the gods! [_Amid supernatural darkness and thunder-peal, Ingimund, Thordis, Egil, and Arfi are struck to the earth, and all the people flee, except Yorul and Frida, who crouch beside the temple._] THE FOLK [_In the distance._] Bow down! bow down! [_Pause; the passing of the storm; silence._] FRIDA [_Rising._] Yorul!—You do not speak. Yorul! YORUL O Frida, hush! FRIDA And did you see them? Four were they all together, and they passed Like fire, and four returned, in robes of flame, But paler. YORUL May be so; I saw them not. FRIDA Two others stood on Odin’s stone, and one Laughed loud, and whirled a whip of blazing brass, And one thrust through his beard a smoking hammer. YORUL May be; may be. What did you say? Speak not! [_Embracing her._] O heart of mine, thou beatest yet. We live. The sun—how still it is! What’s that? FRIDA A bird Singing under the temple’s eaves. YORUL And all Are fled. What be those four that lie so still? [_Together they approach the bodies._] FRIDA Alas! O lady dear! YORUL Dead! they are dead. Egil, my master! Odin’s voice hath slain him. Cursed be Odin! FRIDA Yorul—take them back, Those words! Their sacrilege shall work us woe. YORUL What matter? He is dead. FRIDA Oh, do not think it! Perhaps they sleep. Look how their brows still wear High thoughts. I think they dream. Go! fetch a leech. YORUL A leech for death? FRIDA Go quickly, Yorul! YORUL Well! [_Going out._] A leech here for the dead! A leech, ho! [_Exit._] FRIDA [_Alone with the four bodies, stands before the rune-stone._] Odin! Have pity on the dead; let them awake! [_Slowly the bodies rise and look upon her; she crouches before them._] Ah me! Your eyes! They burn. O turn away Your bright eternal eyes! [_She falls unconscious. Egil, who has risen with the gold altar chain wound about him, gnaws it._] EGIL Death! Freedom! freedom! [_Enter Yorul and a_ LEECH, _followed by the folk_.] THE LEECH Who calls for leechcraft here? YORUL [_Stands bewildered._] A miracle! THORDIS [_Bends over Frida._] The child is stricken. ARFI Let me lift her, Thordis. YORUL A miracle! O Frida, speak to me! THE LEECH [_To the folk._] Stand off! Give air! WULDOR [_To the folk._] Hath Yorul then deceived us? ROLF Behold, they live! FRIDA [_Rising, faintly._] Thanks; lead me to the temple. INGIMUND What hath befallen? WULDOR Hail, Ingimund! The portent Of Odin hath befallen. INGIMUND Saw ye, or what? [_Wuldor and the folk whisper among themselves. Yorul supports Frida toward the temple._] YORUL But how? What chanced? FRIDA Their eyes! their burning eyes! Oh, I have seen their souls: they are not theirs. Four bright ones came, four pale ones went away. YORUL Clean reft of wit! FRIDA Oh, shut me in the dark! [_Taking Frida from Yorul, the temple virgins lead her into the temple._] INGIMUND [_To Wuldor._] Saw ye, I say, or what? WULDOR Ask Yorul, father. INGIMUND Speak thou! What hath befallen? YORUL [_Returning dazed from the temple._] Odin is wise; Ye that were dead are risen from the dead, And Frida, my betrothèd, is reft of reason.— She said it would be, for I cursed him.—Egil! Master and lord, welcome to life! [_Egil, who, with fixed gaze, has been eyeing Thordis, starts wildly, paces back and forth, dragging the altar chain as he moves._] EGIL A verdict! A verdict, priest and earls! Thordis is mine. EGIL’S MEN Thordis for Egil! ARFI’S MEN Thordis for Arfi! INGIMUND Peace! Heaven’s omen still is dark, and Odin’s sign Ambiguous. Not one, but four of us, His hand hath stricken. Wherefore thus I read His riddle: Thordis shall herself decide. THORDIS Father, not I! INGIMUND This ancient feud must end. These two have sworn to abide by Odin’s will; His will it is that thou make choice of them. Hearken their pleas, and choose. THORDIS To one must I Give pain? INGIMUND To one give joy. Speak, Arfi. ARFI Lady, That those who love are blind I pray be so That, loving, so you may behold me not— What thing I seem, but only hear my voice— What truth I am. Thordis, even now I dreamed A dream more high and awful than the clouds And breathless peaks afire of poesie: We stood together on the morning’s brink; Crater and frozen cliff and snowy scar Hung, avalanche on avalanche, below, Below them still,—the world! You spoke to me; Sweeter than measures of imagined song Before the harp is struck, your voice! “Listen!” you said; And echoing from scar and crater rose The clanging of a chain. You clung to me; You clung to me and spoke not.—I have done. INGIMUND Egil! [_Springing forward, Egil seizes Thordis’s hand, which he raises to his lips._] EGIL I love—I love thee! [_He bites her hand. Screaming, she draws away from him and clings to the dwarf._] THORDIS Arfi! ARFI [_Facing Egil._] Brother! WULDOR Blood! He hath bit her hand. Ho, sacrilege! EGIL The maid is mine. ARFI The maid is Odin’s. ROLF [_Seizing Yorul’s arm, points at Egil._] See! His eyes grow small and blaze! YORUL He is possessed; Some god afflicts him. [_With a gesture of fury, Egil rushes upon Arfi._] EGIL Mine! INGIMUND [_Stays him._] The maid is Arfi’s, For she herself hath chosen him. ARFI [_Quietly._] A clout, To stanch the blood. WULDOR [_As Arfi binds her hand, gazes on Thordis, whose eyes have closed._] O fair beyond this world! EGIL [_Clutching the air, in passion for coherence._] A rape! a rape! Thordis for Egil! YORUL [_Drawing._] Thordis For Egil, here! ARFI’S MEN Thordis for Arfi! EGIL’S MEN Egil! INGIMUND Beware! Put back your weapons all, on pain Of Odin’s wrath. THE FOLK [_Murmur._] Remember Odin’s wrath. EGIL Egil recks not for Odin’s wrath nor will. Who fights for Thordis? INGIMUND This is blasphemy. EGIL Who fights with Egil for the maiden? YORUL I, And all of us. EGIL’S MEN Till death. INGIMUND Enough, mine earls! The patience of the lord of peace hath end. Egil, thy words and deed have violated The sacred place of Odin. Thou art banned! The lord hath put thee from his high place. Go! I cast thee forth, and all who follow thee. THE FOLK [_Falling back._] Accurst! accurst! EGIL [_Stands alone in a great circle._] Behold they cast him forth! Egil is banned! Who fights with Egil now? YORUL I, master! ONE OF EGIL’S MEN Fly! he is accurst. [_The men hesitate; then all—except twelve, including Yorul, who step into the circle—depart fearfully._] THE TWELVE Hail, Egil! [_The folk cry out; some go from the scene, others into the temple._] EGIL [_Seizing up with both hands the silver bowl._] Hail, liegemen! Twelve and one, we are enough To vow ourselves to vengeance ’gainst the world. A pledge, here! Ho, a pledge to groom and bride! Drink pledge with me, in Odin’s altar blood. Thordis and vengeance! Hail! THE TWELVE Thordis and vengeance! [_Egil drinks from the silver bowl._] SCENE II: The interior of Egil’s lodge in the forest; toward twilight. _The room is roughly built of logs, long cross-beams overhead. From these (in the right corner, back) hang suspended the bodies and skins of antelope, bear, and wild game; and beneath these—piled upon a bench against the wall—a heap of furs and hides. Centre, back, a door. Left, in the earthen floor, a hearth with ashes; above it, a hole in the roof. Beyond this hearth, left, sitting at the open window_, FRIDA, _alone. She looks out dreamily toward the forest, from which horns echo and answer. Suddenly she starts up, gazes intently, gives a low cry, and, dodging down as she passes the window, springs across to the heap of hides, among which she conceals herself. After a pause, the door opens_; EGIL _enters, panting—evidently pursued. His brow is bleeding, and he limps. Turning to bar the door, he lets fall a bloodied wolf’s skin. Immediately he snatches it up caressingly; gazes around, listens enraged to the horns, limps swiftly to the hearth, hesitates; then, as a sudden horn-blast resounds close by, falls on his knees, digs ferociously in the ashes with his two hands like an animal, thrusts the wolf’s skin in the cavity, and covers it over with the ashes, carefully replacing the charred brands on top. Swiftly, then, binding up his bleeding brow and thigh, he unbars the door, seizes a whip from a corner, and springs stealthily out of the window. At the same moment, horses are heard to gallop up to the lodge; the door bursts open_; YORUL _and_ ROLF _appear on the sill._ YORUL He came this way. Look here, Rolf, in the sand— And here: are not these paw-prints? ROLF May be so. I saw him last back yonder in the forest. YORUL I saw him slinking hither across the open. Look, here again; here’s blood. ROLF What! was he wounded? YORUL Did not you see? ROLF You know I did not; tell me. YORUL Twice; once across the eye, once in the shank. ’Twas Ingimund struck both wounds. ROLF Ingimund! YORUL Yes, when we left you, Egil rode ahead, I and the others after. We had ridden A half-mile, when I heard our master shout: “Here comes our brother with his bride ahunting.” And sure, there burst into our narrow glen Horse, hound, and horn, the whole bright cavalcade; And Thordis rode ahead, and Arfi next, Last, Ingimund. We reined our horses back— ROLF Not to pollute the lady with the sight Of your accursed faces, eh? YORUL Say rather To keep our scanty numbers hid. ROLF Well—well? YORUL Well, I had hardly reined back in the wood And Thordis passed me by—Man, it was awful! Under the very hoofs of the dwarf’s horse— Out of the earth, it seemed—there sprang a wolf And bit the stallion’s loin. The horse rolled over— A wolf—a giant wolf! ROLF What then? YORUL I say It stood as high as that, Rolf, yet I swear If it were not a wolf, yet what— ROLF What happened? YORUL There rang a great shout and the riders all Leapt to the ground where, in the midst of them, Tangled together with the kicking steed, Rolled the huge wolf and Arfi; him the beast Held by the gorge between his grinning jaws, Throttling him like a whelp. But Ingimund— ROLF Hel have him! Did he save the dwarf? YORUL He dragged The wolf away, and struck him with his spear Twice, as I told you. But the beast escaped. ROLF And Arfi lives? YORUL I know not. I made after The wolf, and met you as I tracked him here. ROLF But what said Egil? YORUL I was too amazed To look for him. ROLF There winds his horn in the wood, And yonder he comes riding with the others. Come; we’ll go meet them. [_Exit._] [_As Yorul is following Rolf, Frida steps forward._] FRIDA [_Speaks low._] Yorul! YORUL _Her_ voice! Frida! Frida! FRIDA Keep me! YORUL Stand farther off. O girl, what brings you here? How found you out this solitary place? FRIDA I left my mistress’ side at dawn, and searched All day the forest. YORUL Little Frida, thou! FRIDA Come with me! YORUL Stand away! You have forgot I am accurst. This place is Egil’s lodge, And all who dwell here banned and castaway. FRIDA Where you are must I fear to be? YORUL Yes, Frida, For Ingimund has cursed me with my master. FRIDA Leave him. YORUL Whom? FRIDA Leave him, Yorul. YORUL Leave whom, child? FRIDA Egil, your master. YORUL [_In amazement._] Frida! FRIDA Hush! [_She goes to the hearth._] YORUL [_In scorn._] Desert My lord! His liegeman, I a traitor! FRIDA Look. [_She brushes back the ashes, revealing the beast’s head._] YORUL The wolf! By heaven, dead! What—_you_ killed him? FRIDA No. YORUL And flayed, the very brute! Here are the marks Of Ingimund, his spear. Saw you the beast Alive? FRIDA Yes. YORUL Here? FRIDA I watched it limping here, Wounded, from out the forest. YORUL Ha! I said so. Here to the very door-sill? FRIDA Yes; it pushed The door ajar. YORUL But— FRIDA Egil entered. YORUL Egil! FRIDA His brow was bleeding and he limped. He buried That thing beneath the ashes, and sprang forth Out at the window. YORUL Buried this? FRIDA As dogs Bury their secrets, claw and nozzle.—Yorul! YORUL You _saw_? FRIDA I saw. O Yorul, ’tis a werewolf. YORUL [_Drops the hide and steps back._] Ah! do not name it! FRIDA Leave him. Come away! YORUL Bleeding—his brow, you said? FRIDA Yes; come away! YORUL So be it. FRIDA Gracious Odin! he will come. YORUL Since that wild day he bit your mistress’ hand It hath misgiven me the gods torment him. Once, for seven days, ceaseless he paced this hall, Spoke not, nor ate, but ground and ground his teeth; And in the night, once, when I watched him sleeping, His eyelids lay rolled back and filled with fire. FRIDA That day the storm burst over Odin’s stone And I beheld those mighty four in flame— Oh, since then, Yorul, they have changed, my mistress Even as your master, save that she has grown Lovelier than herself, and seems to bear About with her the loadstone of desire, For the poor hinds and churls that wait upon her Serve her with souls enamoured. If I thought You would believe my vision, I could tell— But come, Yorul. Yorul! you will not come? YORUL Never! Stop, Frida; do not name the thing He is. It matters not to me; for me He is my lord, my master; that is all. FRIDA But if— YORUL If he were that eternal beast Whom Odin chains until the dawn of doom, Fenris, the wolf— FRIDA No, say not that! YORUL I say Still it should matter not; I am his liegeman, His vassal, and his bondslave. I will serve him. [_Enter, with his followers, Egil, cracking his whip._] EGIL The wolf! Where is your wolf? ROLF We tracked him here. EGIL Lies! lies! He lurks yet in the forest. ERIC [_Pointing at Yorul, who holds up the skin._] Look! THE MEN The wolf! EGIL [_Leaping upon Yorul, flings him to the ground._] Traitor! YORUL Hold, master— FRIDA [_Coming forward._] Save him! ROLF Thou! Thou, maiden, here? FRIDA Oh, help him! ERIC [_With the others’ help, separates the two._] Egil! off! EGIL A ferret, ho! a ferret, earls; hath scent And sight and hearing—what, for rats? No, no, For wolves! ROLF [_Aside to Eric._] The madness! YORUL Master, ’tis the wolf. I killed him. EGIL Killed him? Thou? [_Craftily._] What wolf? YORUL The beast That bit the dwarf. EGIL Dead; so ’tis dead. Let see! [_Taking the pelt from Yorul, he drops it on the hearth._] It should, methinks, be buried too. _Thy_ kill? YORUL Mine, Egil. EGIL [_With his foot, covering the pelt with the ashes._] Killed and flayed. Huzza, mine earls, For Yorul and his kill. THE MEN [_Gather round Yorul._] Huzza! EGIL ’Tis buried. [_Aside._] He knows, he knows; I will avenge me. [_Looks keenly at Rolf._] Well, What art thou gazing on? ROLF On nothing. EGIL Liest, Liest; art gazing on my brow. What, what? ’Tis bandaged, ah! What then? What then, I say? ERIC Why, he is wounded. EGIL Traitors! traitors all! Aha, by Loki, but you lie. I fell— You lie! My horse was diked. I fell and gashed me, My brow, my thigh. Why not my brow and thigh? May not a huntsman fall from ’s saddle? Liars! I limp, but not for that. I _will_ limp! [_Suddenly changing._] Hark! [_He springs to the window._] YORUL What dost thou hear? EGIL They smell the blood. They come To dig it up. Their nozzles scour the gorse. Yorul! Yorul! YORUL [_To whom Egil clings._] ’Tis nothing. EGIL They have found The scent. You cannot make them lose it, Yorul. You loop and loop for miles, plunge in the lake, Swim over, double through the thickets, spring All-feet from rock to rock in the ravine, Crouch in the fern and listen: still you hear them Belling behind you, all their big chests panting, Their red tongues lolled, the great hot breathing,—bloodhounds! Bloodhounds! ROLF [_At the window._] By Odin, see, yonder the dogs Of Ingimund; he hath them in the leash; Behind him, on a litter, they are bringing Arfi, the dwarf. EGIL Yorul! Keep back the hounds! Mercy! Thou art no kin of theirs. They have No feud of blood with thee. Keep back the hounds! Mercy! ERIC [_Aside to men._] Still madder! ROLF They are twoscore men, And we a handful; shall we fight? EGIL Fight, madmen? Have ye not heard the hounds? Keep back the hounds. Go forth and bind their leashes to the trees. Bind them, and guard them, every slave of you! Go! Go! ROLF What! fear their dogs? ERIC Yorul, his eyes— They burn! YORUL Be patient, master! EGIL Treachery! You’ve lured ’em on. They come to dig it out; They smell the wounds. Ye have betrayed me. YORUL Men, Come forth and let us bind the hounds. EGIL [_Swinging his whip._] Slaves! cowards! Traitors! the lash shall teach you. [_Striking Rolf._] Bind the hounds! ROLF This goes too far. YORUL [_Imploring._] Come! EGIL Mercy! Ah! their fangs! Their fangs! Devils, go forth and bind the hounds. [_Follows the men, lashing them._] ERIC By Loki! YORUL [_Aside._] Humour him. [_The men go forth, whipped wildly by_ EGIL, _who sinks exhausted by the closed door_.] EGIL Keep back the hounds— Their fangs! YORUL [_Outside._] Fear nothing; we will bind them. FRIDA [_Starts for the door._] Yorul! [EGIL, _rolling in her way, gazes at her, and rises, panting; she draws back_.] EGIL Thou art the maid of Yorul. FRIDA I am his. EGIL Who hid the wolf—he knows. FRIDA He knows. EGIL His maiden! Shalt make a fair revenge. FRIDA Ah! Save me, Yorul! [_She faints._] EGIL Yorul, a dear revenge! [_Lifting her in his arms, he bears her off, left._] A lair! a lair! [_A pause; sunset glows through the window; the outer door is partly opened by Rolf, who calls in._] ROLF O Egil! Ingimund demands to enter And rest here for the night. Thy brother’s wound Grows worse; they doubt his life. Shall we resist them, Or welcome? They are armed.—Egil!—Not here? [_Exit, closing the door. Another pause; the room grows dimmer; Egil slowly reënters, left._] EGIL Now will I sleep.—The time is strangely sweet, Blank, and untroubled. Soon it will be starlight. My limbs are filled with peace, mine ears with sounds Of brooks and breezy leafage murmurous, Mine eyes with slumber. Well, I will lie down And sleep. [_As Egil goes to the hearth, enter_ INGIMUND, THORDIS, WULDOR, _and a number of Arfi’s men, carrying a litter, on which lies_ ARFI; _these accompanied by Yorul, Rolf, Eric, and Egil’s men_.] INGIMUND Slow; bear him softly, Wuldor. Let The others stay without, and place our men Most carefully on guard. For this one night, Yorul, thy master’s bann shall be suspended. The need is great. THORDIS [_By the litter._] Father, he hath grown paler. INGIMUND Here set him down. EGIL [_Gazing at Thordis._] Dreaming! THORDIS Gently! his side. WULDOR Lady, what more to do? ARFI’S MEN [_Some kneel, some kiss her robe; all give to her their eyes and hearts unconsciously._] What more? THORDIS Bring water. YORUL [_Aside._] Master, the hounds are tethered. Where is Frida? EGIL Dreaming! still dreaming! YORUL Frida? EGIL Wake me not. THORDIS Arfi! O gentle earl, look up! Let not Your ears be as the turf to our great sorrow. Arfi! I love you; live! YORUL [_To Rolf._] Hast thou seen Frida? ROLF No. [_Exit Yorul, left; Egil approaches Arfi’s litter._] EGIL Will he die? INGIMUND The virus of the wolf Corrupts his blood; yet he may live. EGIL May live. WULDOR O God! I could take heart to bear this woe But that the damnèd beast that bit my master Still breathes. INGIMUND I wounded him. WULDOR Yet he escaped us. ROLF You, Wuldor, but not us. The wolf is dead; Behold his skin! [_Reënter Yorul. He staggers forward._] INGIMUND Who killed him? ERIC Egil’s man Yorul. INGIMUND Hail, Yorul! This deed shall atone For much of thy defiance and thy master’s. Well done! YORUL [_Wildly._] A lie! a lie! the wolf still lives. ALL Lives? YORUL There! EGIL [_Crouching back._] Ai! anarch! YORUL [_Grappling Egil, tears off his bandages._] Look! Look, Ingimund! The wounds: you struck them with your hunting-spear. INGIMUND Forehead and thigh! YORUL He sprang on Arfi’s horse, And bit his brother’s throat—his murderer. There lies his changeling skin. He buried it Here in the ashes. THE MEN [_Falling away._] Werewolf! Werewolf! INGIMUND Earl, Thou art accused of sin unnameable. Speak: art thou guilty? EGIL [_Glares about him in fear and rage._] Ai! Ai! anarch! INGIMUND Demon! YORUL Ah, Frida! Master—Frida! ROLF What of her? Not dead? YORUL No, no; would God she were, and I! Frida! [_Exit, left._] INGIMUND Destroy the wolf. THORDIS [_To Wuldor, who is about to attack Egil with a spear._] Stop, earl! Your master; He has heard all. ARFI [_Raises his body painfully on the litter._] My brother—Egil—spare him. WULDOR But ’tis a werewolf! INGIMUND He has sought your life. ARFI The life he sought to take I give to him. My strength is little; if you love me, spare him. WULDOR ’Tis madness! THORDIS Nay, ’tis mercy, but to you Reason is vengeance. Father, look; he sinks Again. Will you deny the prayer of him— [_Lowering her voice._] Perchance who dies. ARFI [_Faintly._] Egil! INGIMUND Egil shall live; So much I grant thee, Arfi, but no more. Henceforth thy brother shall be cast in chains, Until the demon-beast that plagues his body Is exorcised and tamed.—Lay on the chains. [_As the men approach with fetters, Egil seizes a chain from one, and, springing fearfully to Thordis’s side, there crouches and lifts it to her._] EGIL Not those—but thou! [_Thordis puts the chain upon Egil._] ACT II SCENE I: A prison chamber, dim, built of stone _On the right stands a high, framed tapestry, the design partly worked; beside it, on a table, several harps and instruments of music. On the left, extending centre, the half-completed model of a structure resembling the temple in Act I, Scene I; beside it, wooden blocks and miniature beams; in front of it a stone tablet, upon which_ EGIL—_stooped, with an instrument in his hand—is laboriously carving runes. Behind him stands_ ARFI, _at times guiding the hand of his brother, who is evidently being overcome by weariness, against which he struggles for concentration. Finally Egil’s head droops, his hand falls, and his body sinks prone. At the door,_ THORDIS _enters._ THORDIS Asleep? ARFI Quite, quite outworn. THORDIS The task is done? The runes? ARFI He has mastered them. THORDIS [_Sighs unconsciously._] How swift he learns! ARFI Yes, hourly he hath grown through the strange months Since Ingimund entrusted him to us To dispossess the beast that plagues him. THORDIS Look Now where he lies and dreams. ARFI There lies a block Of chaos, for our wills to fuse and kindle Into a world, glowing with vital forms Of law and loveliness. Yea, Thordis, we— We are his being’s seasons, you and I; The sun and moon, the starshine and the dew, Of this stark heath and breeding moor of passion, And the large jurisdiction of our love Must ripen there the temperate growths of reason, And stablish the mind’s palaces. THORDIS You speak In sadness. ARFI Nay, in awe. The thought grows vast And awful. THORDIS So? I do not feel it, I! I feel as elemental as the air, That holds secure within its crystal veins As many thousand summers and their blooms As the earth may yearn for. ARFI ’Tis because you are Bounteous as the air, that from your presence all Take breath and power. Since you elected me Beside the altar stone, even I, that was A warped and ailing mannikin of woe, Prickling with sensibilities and pangs, Have felt myself exalted and at peace With this poor twisted mask of torse and limb, So simple it seems, so sane, so actual, That what I am was your immortal friend Elsewhere. THORDIS And have you felt the same? We two Have walked eternal mountains hand in hand, And watched the morning of our little lives Break over our birth-hour, and we shall stand Together at the sundown, and behold The passion clouds of death grow pale. ARFI And then We shall pass on together. [_In his sleep, Egil moans._] THORDIS We forget; We must not leave _him_ as we found him, love. ARFI The wolf torments him still in sleep. THORDIS Poor dreamer! And have you told him yet we are to wed To-morrow? ARFI No; I dreaded to rouse up The old, jealous hate; for since my wound has healed, He seems to have forgotten that old feud, And looks on you and me no more, methinks, As keepers of his prison-house, but rather As his accomplices, that smuggle in Subtle devices for his liberation, To comprehend the use of which he expends All of his time and powers. THORDIS Accomplices: It may be so; for he, that used to hang With looks of fire upon my merest motion, Will gaze beyond me now with eyes that gloat Blank as a miser’s on some buried hoard. ARFI The gold he hoards is knowledge, and ’tis well, For that preoccupation may assuage The pain he else might feel, when he shall learn Our joy to-morrow. [_Egil cries out again._] THORDIS Yearning heart! how deep It labours still in pain! Let us take care To acquaint him gently with our happiness. We must divert him.—Why, what’s here? ARFI [_Smiling._] A temple; We’re architects. THORDIS He helped you build it? ARFI I Am helping him. THORDIS But how shall this avail To tame the wolf? ARFI His genius is destruction; His breath and bondage—to annihilate; And therefore Egil must be shown to build And not destroy; of mean, chaotic things— These blocks—to make admired harmony, And shape, however rude, some tangible Earnest of his constructive will. THORDIS I see; Who would have thought of it but you? Not I! [_Egil moans._] Hark! EGIL [_Low, in his sleep._] Freyja! THORDIS Did he call? EGIL Freyja! THORDIS That name! You heard? ARFI The goddess Spring’s. THORDIS You taught him, then, To pray? ARFI Not I. EGIL [_Starting to his feet._] Freyja! THORDIS Can this be Egil? EGIL [_Crouched, pacing to and fro._] Free me, Freyja! Frore am I, frost-bit; Go we together into greenwood glad! Mirk under moon-mist mad will meet thee, Hunt thee from hiding, thy heart-beats hear. ARFI It is the wolf that wakes, while Egil slumbers. EGIL [_Looking, with closed eyes, as toward a height._] Free me, Freyja! Fair art thou, froward; Go we together into greenwood glad! Burns thine eyebeam bright as the bitch-wolf’s; Longeth Fenris in thy lair to lie. THORDIS What other name spake he? ARFI I could not hear. EGIL [_In sudden terror, seeking to fly._] Ai! anarch! anarch! Ulfr! THORDIS Wake him. ARFI Wait; What this reveals to us may prove of help To him. EGIL [_Defiantly._] Oathless am I! THORDIS But see! he suffers. EGIL I—I am Allfather! [_Swaying with anguish, as under the blows of a scourge, he sinks upon the floor, overwhelmed and quivering._] Oathless—am—I— THORDIS Egil, awake! awake! ’Tis nothing. EGIL [_Gradually waking, rises to his knees._] Freyja! THORDIS No goddess I, poor Egil, but your friend Thordis, the maiden. EGIL She thou art—the same Even now that saved me. [_Starting._] What is that? ARFI Your brother. EGIL My brother he is tall and beautiful, Happy and glorious, and I hate him for’t. ARFI Nay, you have hated me, but not for that. Look on me, Egil. EGIL Arfi! THORDIS ’Twas a dream. EGIL What’s that—a dream? Is it a mist that steals Between the eyelids, filling them with shap Begot of its own vapour,—shadows? lies? If so, which shapes are dreams—your forms, or those, Those even now that beheld me, where I crouched Among the crater’s hoar crusts, numb with cold, Yet writhing in the brassy flames, that eat And crawled into my vitals? Mine? No, no! That was not I, that nameless thing, not I! Say “No.” ARFI It was the wolf. You fell asleep, Wearied, and dreamed of him. EGIL If that be sleep, Then let me sleep no more. O friends, sweet friends, You that have weaned and reared me from this thing, Promise I nevermore may droop mine eyes But you will prod them open. THORDIS You forget How you have grown. Soon you will be once more— But oh! how milder, mightier, than before— Egil, the hunter. EGIL Till then, Egil the hunted! O Thordis, could I meet—as many a time I’ve met within the forest, face to face, My quarry, and destroyed it—could I so Confront this inward beast and grapple him To the death-struggle,—ha! but with a dream! A spectral wolf, that lurks ever in the dusk And tangled thickets of my brain and will, A wraith invulnerable, that makes his lair In my bosom, that, when I would strike, I lacerate myself, draw life—myself The beast, the bait, the hunter and the hunted! THORDIS Nay, you are still the hunter, he the quarry, Only to track him hath grown harder, for He hath grown duskier as your mind hath dawned, And can no more take shape, as he was wont, In tangible horror to the eyes of all. Yet we will track him—you and I. EGIL But how? THORDIS With flaming torches we will set ablaze His ancient wilderness, till through the gap Of sundering boughs the quiet stars shall mock him, Naked and overwhelmed. EGIL But where? What boughs? What fire? THORDIS [_Taking up, among the instruments, a reed-pipe._] The way is wild; this pipe shall lead us. Play, Arfi! [_Sitting beside the block temple, Arfi begins to play upon the reed._] EGIL But this pipe— THORDIS Do you not hear Her voice alluring us? It is a wood-sprite, The elf-child Harmony. EGIL Where can she lead us? This is a prison. THORDIS She can lead us forth Into the beauteous world. Hark! even now— Do you not see?—the walls are crumbling, bright With ivy-dew and morning.—Don’t you hear? The birds! the birds!—Now, Egil, now your hand! Now on the dance with me! We’ll follow her On—to the chase! [_Taking hands, they dance whilst Arfi blows the mellow pipe. Eager, impetuous, Egil becomes kindled by the sound and motion till, in the midst, dropping Thordis’s hand, he gropes toward the wall._] EGIL The chase! the chase! the chase! Ho, torches for the chase! ARFI [_Stops playing, and rises._] A metaphor Transforms him. EGIL Torches! [_Stumbling against the blocks._] What is this? ARFI Our temple; We’ve left it uncompleted. EGIL This!—the chase! To sit block-building like a little child? To ask vague questions that await strange answers? No! do not mock me! Summon the great hunt. Hand me a torch into my gripping palm, Point where to leap, and let the whirlwinds sing And the great jungles crash in conflagration. The wolf! reveal the wolf! that I may rend The demon limb from limb. ARFI He rages blind Now in your eyes. EGIL [_Controlling himself, shudders._] Emancipate me! ARFI Come; Here let us sit, as we were boys again, And pile our blocks. THORDIS Go, Egil! Build with him. The forest-sprite has led you to her temple. [_Going to the tapestry frame, while Egil joins Arfi, she begins to work upon the embroidery, observing from time to time their block-building._] EGIL A temple! Still they mock me.—’Tis a toy. ARFI Why, true, a toy, and yet a temple, if The mind bring incense here, and the bow’d heart Make sacrifice. EGIL We are not pigmies, we, To creep under this gable. ARFI Are we not? Are we so great? Who hath not stood beneath A sparrow’s egg-shell, speckled o’er with stars, And dwindled there with wonder? Who so small But hath, to quench desire, drunk of the sun Or set his parch’d lips to the moon’s pale rim? So great, so small, neither and both, our stature Waxes and wanes, inconstant as a shadow ’Twixt night and noon and night. This temple, lad, Will be as cramped or spacious as the spirit Which consecrates it. EGIL Dark! Thou speakest darkness. ARFI Listen! This house of toy-wood is the altar Where you must supplicate the immortal gods For freedom. EGIL So; the immortal gods! What, then, Are they that I should sue to them for freedom? ARFI They are the powers of the inevitable To whom we mortals must submit our wills Or perish. [_Egil’s structure falls._] EGIL Ah! it breaks. What made it fall? ARFI A god: the same that holds these prison walls Stone upon stone; the same that mortises The rock-seams of the solid hills, and hangs Aloft the glittering roof-tree of the world.— You builded weak, and the god chided you. EGIL Are then the gods so near? ARFI In all our acts We feel the might of their invisible hands, But only in prayer behold them face to face. EGIL In prayer? ARFI The abnegation of our wills For theirs, the affirmation of their laws, Which to the god’s “Thou must” answers “I will.” EGIL And that is freedom? ARFI That alone is freedom. EGIL I will be free then, Arfi. Why, ’tis simpler Than playing with these blocks. I will be free! Teach me to pray. ARFI I cannot. EGIL Teach me, Thordis. [_She shakes her head and smiles_.] Alas! who will? ARFI Yourself alone. EGIL But how? How may I know when I have learned to pray? ARFI When, in the full sight of your goal of yearning, Your spirit, pausing, cries out to the gods— “This is my heart’s desire—take it—’tis yours!” That instant of renunciation will Be prayer and freedom both and the wolf’s passing-bell. [_Enter_ WULDOR; _he goes to Arfi and speaks aside._] Admit him. WULDOR But— ARFI Why not? WULDOR His looks are wild, His words were bitter. When he spoke of thee, He laughed and scowled. ARFI Say we will come to him. [_Exit Wuldor_.] THORDIS [_Whom Arfi approaches, with a warning gesture._] Who is it? ARFI [_Aside._] Yorul; he has asked to speak With Egil. THORDIS Ought we to admit him? ARFI It is wise, For so may Egil measure what he is By what he was. Look; he has knelt to pray. The time is fitting; we will leave him so. THORDIS [_Leaving the tapestry._] How noble he looks! Shall we not tell him now About to-morrow? ARFI We will tell him all When he has prayed. [_Exeunt._] EGIL [_Solus._] To pray—to pray is simple: “This is my heart’s desire—take it—’tis yours!” And so—emancipation. O you gods, If through these prison walls you may behold The mock rites of this childish temple, hear me! Knowledge—knowledge, that is my heart’s desire. That is the soul-inebriating cup Which hath transformed me half unto your image And still hath drugg’d the other brutish half To lethargy and dreams. To know, to learn, And evermore to learn! To watch new worlds Kindling from out the dark of consciousness, Fresh firmaments gathering from drop to drop Of common morning dew; to be upborne On the light-trailing wings of understanding And scan far off the former crawling-place And wolf-haunt of the spirit, to spread those wings At one’s own will and mount into the sun, Searing the mind with ecstasy—you gods! That is my heart’s desire: take it from me! Take it, ’tis yours, for it hath come from you, But when of that you have bereft me, leave Freedom instead, and innocence. [_Enter_ YORUL.] What’s there? Speak. YORUL [_As Egil starts up, bows himself at his feet._] Thy betrayer. EGIL Oh, art thou a god? And art thou come in answer to my prayer? YORUL Master— EGIL I know thy voice. YORUL [_Turning upward his face._] Destroy me. EGIL [_Dreamily._] Yorul! Yorul, my liegeman! YORUL Once thou named me so; Once and the world was sweet—once and ’twas sweet. EGIL Why have they sent thee, Yorul? YORUL Who, my lord? EGIL Thou art their messenger; be swift; declare Their grace, or doom.—Shall I go free? YORUL Destroy me With blows of steel, not of remorse. None sent me. Myself hath driven me here, here to the cell Wherein my treachery consigned my master. Hear me! EGIL I hear thee, Yorul. YORUL Since that night, That bitter sunset when she—since that night Till now, I have not left the forest, nor Spoken with friend or foe; but I have stopped My heart in the deep silentness of trees Till it hath burst for pain. My wrong and thine, Thy wrong and mine—I dared to balance them, To let my woe condone my treachery And prove it justified, as if my heart Were not itself thy vassal, and its pangs Feudal to thy desires. And so I sinned Until to-day. EGIL These are enigmas. Speak! How have the gods made answer to my prayer? YORUL To-day I met with peasants in the wood Who drove their herds of swine all garlanded With green arbutus. Hailing me, they cried, “Why come ye not with us to Odin’s stone Against to-morrow’s wedding-day?” “Who weds?” Quoth I. “Our priestess Thordis weds the dwarf; Come with us!” Then I bit my arm and vowed That I would come to thee and speak my shame, And say, “Destroy me, lord, or let me serve thee.” EGIL Peasants they were; they said—what was’t they said? YORUL “To-morrow our priestess Thordis”— EGIL “_Weds the dwarf!_” Those were thy words; thou shalt not change them now. YORUL I would not change them. EGIL Wouldst thou not? Well said! “To-morrow the maiden Thordis”—nay, not so; “To-morrow our priestess Thordis—_weds the dwarf_.” And all their swine were garlanded.—Was it so? YORUL Even so, and I— EGIL Even so! YORUL I vowed to come— EGIL [_Laughing._] Knowledge—knowledge—that was my heart’s desire! YORUL And make confession— EGIL Why, here have I sat And licked the crumbs of knowledge from his hand As I had been his beagle; and for what? To grow! to be transmuted from a wolf Into my brother’s ape! To evolve a mind That knows at last the rapture it must lose. Oh, noble! YORUL And make confession of my crime As of my love. EGIL [_Beginning to pace back and forth._] Ha! YORUL For I loved her well, More than I dreamed. Love leads us from the truth And blinds us to ourselves. EGIL Ah! YORUL So when I Beheld that deed—forgive me! EGIL Ah! YORUL I spake Those traitor’s words that damned thee to this cell; For I was mad. O God! the memory Maddens me now. EGIL Ha! YORUL Look not on me so, For I am weak and passionate. Take care! The truth deserts me!—Nay, forgive me, master, ’Tis love is falsehood. EGIL Ah! YORUL I am thy liegeman, And what was mine was thine to take, unquestioned. EGIL Ah! YORUL Yet my soul _would_ question, and I claimed her In spite of thee, for that same night— [_Draws nearer and whispers._] I killed her. Mine! She is mine! Thou canst not touch her now. She lies out yonder with the virgin stars White and inviolable. Dead, she is mine Whom, living, ’twas thy title not to spare. Master, pity my triumph! Leave me yet This foible of my arrogance, for which Henceforth I am thy loyal slave, to do Or die for thee. EGIL Wouldst serve me—ah? YORUL Say how! EGIL Seems thou canst kill. YORUL Speak but that word. [_They look long at each other._] EGIL ’Tis spoken. Go!—Stay! YORUL What more? EGIL Thine oath!—for sometimes, Yorul, The resolute grow sick with afterthought, And hot will cool—thine oath, to shun my sight, To speak not nor be spoken with, until ’Tis done. YORUL [_Raising his right arm._] By Frida’s cold and virgin hand, To shun my master’s sight, to speak not, nor Be spoken with, until ’tis done. EGIL ’Tis sworn; Go now. [_Yorul covers his face, and exit._] To-morrow she shall wed—not him. O dupe of lovers! Bond-slave to a dwarf! O gods, your fool! your fool! [_Throwing himself down beside the temple of blocks, he destroys it, insensate, and crouches, laughing, amid the ruins._] SCENE II [_The curtain rises presently upon the same: a taper burns low_. THORDIS, _seated with a harp, is playing; near her_ EGIL _stands amid the block ruins. Ceasing to play, Thordis rises, looks at Egil (who stands oblivious), passes silently to the window and looks out._] THORDIS The moon has set. EGIL [_Stirs as from a trance._] Can, then, the eternal cease? That perfect architecture pale in air? You built again my temple of sweet sounds And peopled it with deathless visitants, And shed around their forms a nameless grace Medicinal as moonlight, and as calm. I walked with them, and they discoursed with me. Almost it seemed myself was one of them.— And then you ceased. THORDIS ’Tis beauty’s paradox To prove itself immortal—and to die. EGIL Die? Must this godlike transmutation lapse Into the lurking wolf again? Ah, no! That music died in labour, and its yearning Hath borne a man-child, that lives after it Here in my soul. Henceforth I nevermore May be that groping hypocrite of prayer Whom you uplifted from this ruined altar, With passion-sealèd eyes seeking the light Of freedom. No, henceforth I shall be strong, Clear-eyed, serene, and dauntless. See! I take Your hand and bid you go from me.—Thou only, Thou art my heart’s desire. See! I renounce thee. Go from me, for I love you. Leave me! Yet You leave me not alone; that passionate presence Which the blind wrath and hunger for possession Cries out for from my clay—of that I am Bereft indeed; but losing that, I gain The stellar part of you, the exceeding light Of fellowship and human sympathy.— Leave me! I love you. THORDIS Is this Egil speaks? EGIL Egil, your lover, I! THORDIS The gods are mighty, And music is the lordliest. O Egil, Thou art emancipated, and to-morrow They will fling wide thy prison doors.—Good night! [_Giving him the harp._] Keep here thy god with thee. [_At the door, as they clasp hands._] Brother!—Good night. [_Exit._] EGIL Sister!—Emancipated! Mine at last Freedom and innocence! The occult beast That crouched beside the sweet wells of my spirit Is exorcised at last.—To-morrow dawn I shall go forth and taste the wild, spring air, And gather the hamlet children in the woods To pluck arbutus for her wedding-day, Her wedding-day—and his. I have renounced her. Emancipated—but I have renounced her Even for that, for freedom. What were freedom Without—his! his! forever his own! And I Am happy, rapt, triumphant? _His!_ What power Hath wrought in me this ignominy? [_Lifting the harp._] Thou! Wast thou, imperious instrument! Wast thou, Delirious god! [_Fiercely he plucks out several strings._] Thou hast decoyed me! [_Pausing._] Still, There’s Yorul; Yorul’s true. [_Wrenching with both hands the harp’s frame, he breaks it in halves, and exultant, raises them above his head, with a great breath._] Emancipated! ACT III SCENE: A forest glade _On the left, a green bank and a pool, back of which is a thicket; on the right, a vista, beneath boughs, of a distant volcano, rising through the wet light of dawn._ EGIL’S VOICE [_Outside._] Help—O! help—O! SHRILL VOICES [_Outside._] A troll! a troll! a troll! [_Enter, right_, EGIL, _running. He is completely surrounded and swarmed over by little children in bright spring garb. One little girl has climbed upon his shoulder, where she clings._] THE CHILDREN Heigh! hold him fast. Troll! troll! EGIL Help, gentle greenwood! Am I but now escaped men’s prison walls To fall into this ambush of thine elves! Save me, you wrens and warblers! Fetch me wings! THE CHILDREN [_Taking hands, dance about him, singing._] Thrice, thrice, Thrice around thee! Star-wise Our steps surround thee; Now yield thee, yield thee, proud Sir Troll! Body and soul Our spells have bound thee. EGIL Thrice, thrice, Thrice around me! Star-wise Your steps surround me. Now yield I me and pay my toll— Body and soul As ye have bound me. [_He lies down, pretending death; each child places his foot upon him, with a shout. At this he springs up, laughing, seizes a little boy and girl, and, seating himself on a log, places them on his knees. The others cluster about him._] Ha, sirrah! is this maid thy sister? THE LITTLE BOY Yes, She’s mine. EGIL What wouldst thou do if I should steal her? THE LITTLE BOY I’d kill you. EGIL Ha! wouldst let him? THE LITTLE GIRL Oh, of course; He is my brother. EGIL ’Tis a brother’s right To kill, I see. THE LITTLE GIRL In play, you know. EGIL In play. THE CHILDREN Come play! Come play! EGIL What now? THE CHILDREN [_Severally._] Fox and wild geese! Glass-mountain, Spinning-fairy, Cat-skin, Crows, Frog-bridegroom! THE LITTLE GIRL _I_ know what! EGIL [_Takes both her hands, smiling._] Well, what? THE LITTLE GIRL I’ll be Red Riding-hood, and you shall be the wolf. [_Egil drops her hands and rises._] THE LITTLE BOY I’m the good hunter and these are my men. EGIL [_Vassal-like to the little boy._] Beseech you, sir, may I not play your part? I’d fain be the good hunter. THE LITTLE BOY Granted, earl. I’d fainer be the wolf. [_To the children._] Come! gather your flowers. EGIL And when you’ve filled your laps and aprons up With wind-flowers and arbutus, bring them here. Mind! ’tis our lady Thordis’ wedding-day. THE CHILDREN [_Running from the little boy._] The wolf! the wolf! [_Passing left into the wood, they are seen for some time gathering flowers and watching, in their game, the stealthy approachments of the little boy._] EGIL O freedom! happy world! Hark, how they laugh, with bubbling undersong Sweetening the over-choir of the birds. And I—I, too, can laugh; can loose my soul Free-wing’d into the open with a cry Unfetter’d as a lark. [_Looking up into the tree-tops, he laughs again._] O rarest laughter! O medicine of the long-languish’d mind! O welling of the heart’s sweet waters up, Washing the acid tang of cynic woe Sere from the spirit’s lips. O benison Of innocence! And have I lived before This hour? Is not this day creation’s dawn? [_Flinging himself upon the bank._] These children, with their lifted flowerlike faces, These flowers, with their dewy childlike eyes, These parting vapours on the golden hills, Yea, all these leaves of little twinkling grass Whose roots strike down to tears of yesterday— Now shine like things immaculate, new-born, And I, and they, like issue of one mother, The offspring of an universal birth. Oh, what exceeding power hath loveliness For her beholder! [_Where he lies thus rapt in the sylvan landscape, the first sunlight breaks through the wood, and by it the_ SHADOW _of a man is thrown sharply, from the left, across the reclining form of Egil. At the same time, from the right, is heard Arfi’s voice, singing._] THE VOICE OF ARFI Thy heart, love, give or take Or cast away; Mine shall not break Forever and a day; For lovers kiss their mates where thoughts are kind. Love lives within the mind—the mind—the mind. [_Slowly having risen to his feet, Egil perceives the human shadow and starts._] EGIL Yorul! [_The shadow recedes, left, from the scene._] Yorul, stay! Come back! THE VOICE OF ARFI The redstart and the rose, The clear sunrise, What mortal knows Their grace to immortalise? Seek them again, where Death can never find, By love, within the mind—the enamour’d mind. EGIL It must not be.—Yorul!—What, I Was mad, who now am sane and innocent. Come back! It shall not—Yorul! THORDIS [_Calls outside._] Egil! EGIL [_Pausing._] She! [_Enter, right_, THORDIS _and_ ARFI. _They are dressed in white, the dwarf being quaintly garlanded. They are followed by_ WULDOR. _Thordis goes gaily toward Egil, extending both her hands._] THORDIS Deserter! runagate!—Look, Arfi, here’s Our truant brought to bay. And will not yield! And will not even surrender up his eyes To his imploring gaolers.—O proud brother! Not even a hand-clasp in return for all Thy struck-off shackles? [_Taking her hands, he still looks off left._] EGIL Lady! THORDIS Still no eyes For mortals? Quite enamoured of a wood-sprite? Alas! we’ve broke a tryst and she has flown! Call her: perchance she’ll hear. EGIL [_Looking upon Thordis._] Lady!— [_Quickly then turning away, speaks under his breath to Wuldor._] A word, A word! ARFI He’s deeply moved. THORDIS He’s deeply changed. Saw you his eyes when they turned full on me, And he said, “Lady”? There were tears in them, Tears, and yet through them glowed the ancient fire, Not now in wrath, but tenderness. EGIL [_Aside to Wuldor._] Overtake him; The oath he swore to Egil—tell him—Egil Now countermands. Bid him do nothing; go! [_Watches Wuldor off, left. Arfi, quietly looking at him, speaks to Thordis._] ARFI You love him dearly? THORDIS Very dearly. EGIL Brother, Thordis, your hands again! ARFI [_Smiling._] Have you despatched Wuldor to find the lady wood-sprite? EGIL Friends, Were we less deeply known to one another, And chiefly I to you—what thing I was, What now, perchance, am grown—well, I suppose ’Twere custom, were it not? to wreathe our lips With honey-blossoms of superfluous Congratulation: you are to be wed, And I am free, and my emancipation Owes all itself to you.—“Heaven be with you!” “I thank you well,” “Joy is to me!”—But these Things being said, and rung with all the chimes Of truth, I beg of you let now these hands Speak the unsaid remainder for our hearts In silence. [_The three hold hands._] ARFI [_After a pause._] Vaster powers than we have wrought This friendship. Whom the gods join hand in hand Their fates thenceforth are mingled. THORDIS [_Loosening her hands with a laugh._] So, dear lord, Be merry! ARFI [_Speaks low, with a smile._] Have I not divinest reason? This is the place. THORDIS Arfi! The sacred pool? ARFI The pool of Freyja—there! The wood-folk call it Her mirror, for they say that once i’ the year, Ever at May-day, the fresh goddess comes To sit beside it with her elves, whilst they Comb her bright hair. THORDIS And then she peers within it? ARFI As you do now.—Sweetest, good-bye! THORDIS Good-bye? But where are you going? ARFI The wood pathway to heaven. I’m going to hasten that laggard priest, your father, To make him make you mine. EGIL Stop! You’re alone. ARFI Well? EGIL [_Embarrassed._] Will it be now? ARFI Am I not written large With bridal runes? Hang not these garlands thick As invocations from an inn-house gable? “Here light ye down, fair guests! Light down, light down, Dear lady, at the sign of the ‘_Green Bridegroom_!’”— Farewell, sweetheart. This day is clothed in green For joy. I will return with Ingimund As swift as longing. EGIL Stay; we must be wise. You must not leave me here alone with her. ARFI Why? Are you not my brother? EGIL I am he Who vowed against you hatred and revenge. ARFI Also you are my brother. EGIL I am he That with a brutish fang struck at your life. ARFI Good-bye, dear brother. EGIL Wait! Was I not then Your brother—_then_? Will not a brother lust? A brother covet? Are not beauty, grace, Lures to a brother’s eyes? Are brothers’ souls By nature kin? Or is that name a spell To render heart and mind innocuous That else might murder, ravish? Oh, be not So rash as put your trust in me because I am your brother. ARFI [_Returning to Egil, embraces him._] Lad, keep this with you. I would not be so rash as _not_ to trust In you a power more august than yourself For all the joy and honour which this day Holds out to me.—Adieu! This day is joy’s. [_Exit, right._] EGIL Now we’re alone. How is it with you—sister? THORDIS Strangely, my brother; how is it with you? EGIL O God! How many waking dawns and desperate nights Have I, in sharp imagination, moaned For this sweet hour, to stand—as now I stand—alone with you, in liberty. THORDIS And now that time has come. [_She reaches to him her hand; he does not take it._] EGIL Now it is come, But ah! how sternly different is this truth From all I dreamed. Can this be freedom? See! What hangs upon these arms? They wear no chains. Why, then, do they not catch you breathless up And bear you hence in rapture? In your eyes— Lo! veilless I behold your virgin soul! And yet she does not fly, nor I pursue. THORDIS What should she fear? EGIL What should she not?—These eyes Renouncing hers; these hands that dare not press Her vesture’s hem, lest they consume like coals That robèd sanctuary; these desires That burn around her like the hedge of flames Round Brunhild’s bower; this waiting dawn, this hush And solitary wood—What fear? Herself, Herself that, all resolved to beauty, breathes Herself unto these eyes, these hands, this dawn, These leash’d desires! THORDIS You love me, you would say. Why should you not? EGIL I have renounced you. THORDIS Me, But not your love for me. Surely that still Is happiness. EGIL Why, yes, I must be happy; For this is pain, and pain is very sweet To those who love; and this is bitter sweet To breathe the name of “sister” ’gainst your cheek Where but so late the sigh of “sweetheart” stole Warm from my brother’s lips.—O lure and vision! Do you not see? I have climbed up to you Out of the rank abyss; this is the verge: One word, one look, from you must hurl me back, Or save me. THORDIS Look. EGIL How have you dared to trust me? THORDIS When have we ever ceased to trust you? EGIL “We”? THORDIS Arfi and I. Oh, he is very wise. His judgment is as gracious as a child’s That in the wonderland of its own wisdom Imagines nothing baser than itself. EGIL But I _am_ baser. THORDIS Hath it proved so? EGIL [_After a pause._] No! No; thanks to you and him and my own pain, It shall not prove so. This at last is power And innocence; this—this at last is freedom. Now when I clasp your hand I clasp his also— My saviour’s; now beneath your face, for shrine, I will confess my spirit to you both, For are you not my gods? You have created My heaven and hell, and builded my path heavenward. Now from your eyes nothing—nothing within This heart shall be concealed. THORDIS [_Smiling._] What then is your secret? [_On the edge of the scene, left, unobserved by them, reappears the human_ SHADOW.] EGIL [_Slowly rises._] My secret? THORDIS Come, sit with me on this bank, And I will be a listening stream, a bird, An opening flower, to overhear you. [_He follows and sits beside her; the Shadow slowly moves toward them._] EGIL But— THORDIS That thought which falters now behind your lips. EGIL I have no thought which hides from you. [_The Shadow moves between them. Egil starts up with a cry._] Again! Again it falls upon me! THORDIS What? EGIL ’Tis gone. THORDIS What’s gone? EGIL It is no matter. THORDIS A surprise! I see: a wedding-day surprise for us. EGIL No, but a lie. I lied to you. Last night I told you I renounced you, but I lied. THORDIS Egil! EGIL It was the music, the harp-demon; It blinded and then tempted me; it lured me To obtain my freedom falsely. But to-day, This morning when my body fetterless Roamed in this wood-side, and the little children Climbed over me in laughter, and I too Laughed with them, and all nature laughed and echoed “Thou art emancipated!”—I was healed; Then I was healed and now all’s well again; All’s well; no harm shall come to him. THORDIS To whom? I do not understand. EGIL You have no need; I claim your own assurance. Will you trust me? THORDIS So well that, now you have put your secret by, I will tell mine. EGIL What secret can you have For me? THORDIS You have been wicked; so perhaps Have I. EGIL [_Smiling._] You! THORDIS [_Showing her hand._] Look! look there. EGIL A scar. THORDIS The mark Of fangs. EGIL What thing has dared to give you pain? THORDIS Have you forgot? EGIL Ah me! I had forgot. Cannot you, too, forget? THORDIS I would not; that’s My secret. Yes, this scar is dear to me. EGIL That sign of blasphemy, of him—the werewolf— THORDIS Is dear to me. EGIL Thordis! THORDIS I loved the wolf. It was a life to nourish and protect, A being alien and mysterious, Yearning and captive. It was terrible, And yet so eager, swift, and passionate It fascinated me. It was ignoble, Cruel, yet infinite of promise; cunning, Malicious, yet beautifully animate, Sublimely animal. EGIL O pain! THORDIS To take it Into my bosom, foster its wild growth From hour to hour, to watch from day to day The fierce light of its eyes glow deeper, milder, To nestle it only to set it free—these joys Were pangs to me. EGIL [_Low._] Have pity! THORDIS Then it was So lordly, so imperious of strength, In grace so sinuous, in pride so ardent— Who had not been enamoured of it? EGIL Cease! It wrought some monstrous spell to make you wanton. THORDIS If that be wantonness which fain would take No joy of loving but the giving joy. EGIL But for that beast you turned your thoughts from Arfi? THORDIS You do not understand; Arfi and I Are one; it needs no murmured wedding vows To make us that. But I am beautiful, And all who look upon me love to press Nearer and touch my gown, and when I pass I feel the ruddy mantling of their cheeks And the wild admiration start; and these Are joys to Arfi as to me, and we Return their love. EGIL Even so you loved me? THORDIS No, More than all those, for you alone of those Had need of me.—And so you have my secret. I fear indeed it is a wicked one; For I have been like a too-doting nurse That lets her heart hang backward in regret And whispers her loved one, “Grow, but do not leave me!” EGIL For what then have I grown, O gods? THORDIS For this: To be yourself, and free of that nurse-bondage. EGIL Free! but alone, adrift! Oh, take me back Into the bosom of your care. Once more Nestle me there, the wild thing! THORDIS That once more So you might struggle for your freedom? Nay, The wild thing now is dead. [_Enter Wuldor, left; he goes to Egil._] WULDOR I cannot speak With him. When I approached, he fled from me, Silent. I called, but both his hands he pressed Over his ears, and silently among The trees eluded me. EGIL [_Seizing Wuldor’s wrists, speaks huskily._] I have not willed this; They cannot lay this crime on me—these gods, For I have annulled it, I have cancelled it. Come here, look in my heart; is it not clean? Woe thou mayest see there, yearning, pain, but not— Say, canst thou see there—murder? Answer not, But go! What will come _will_ come; what have I To do with it? Go, go, I say. [_Exit Wuldor, right, looking darkly._] THORDIS You are ill, Your gestures—they are wild. EGIL Why should they not be? The wild thing is not dead, but is exalted. Gods, why should we, your hinds, coin and devise Dreams of emancipation! We are quibblers And hypocrites, damned, every slave of us, To hug our chains in secret. Rather than Acknowledge what we are, the mind outwits The heart, the heart hoodwinks the mind, the tongue Cajoles and counterplots them both, while truth— [_Breaks into laughter._] THORDIS Tell me the truth. EGIL Again? Another version? Why, listen then: I love you; not in the awful, Serene idea of self-sacrifice, But passion, which of right demands return Of passion, nature’s just and ancient barter. I want you; I demand you—all yourself. I offer all myself. THORDIS What of your brother? EGIL I ask you nothing which he does not ask. He offers nothing which I do not offer. There was a difference between us once, Not now. THORDIS Hath he not made you what you are? EGIL Yes, he and you. THORDIS And in requital now You would seduce his bride? EGIL No, not seduce; Demand. Yes, though I seem to rave, I speak Love and conviction. Judge me, dear my lady. You chose between us brothers when we were Contrasted in our souls as some meek bard Of pity, with a beast. Look on us now Again, before it be too late, and choose Between us now. THORDIS I have chosen once for all. EGIL But have you chosen blindly? [_Points into the wood._] Do you see, By yonder pine, that wild crab-apple tree? THORDIS I see a tree just bursting into flower. EGIL Is not it beautiful? THORDIS ’Tis ravishing. EGIL Last winter, had you passed, you might have seen it Writhing its frozen limbs there like a thing Accurst, all pinched and scrambled by the pangs Of screaming winds; you would have shrunk from it Beneath the verdurous pine, in whose sad boughs The same winds sung like voices of tuned lyres. THORDIS It may be so. EGIL Yet now behold it, now! A pale-rose pyre of fragrance and of flame, Wherein, like sacrificial spirits, sit The tawny and vermilion birds, and strike Their silvery chants in unison, and hung Amid the tangled bloom, in murmurous choirs, The blazing gold bees shrill their mellow horns. Look, Thordis, look again! If you were Freyja, Herself, goddess of spring, which would you choose For shelter now, and joy? THORDIS [_Gazing at him._] Ah me! EGIL If spring— If spring and the sweet south can so transform, What cannot love? Your warmth, your breath, your soul, Soft on my numbness, my deformity, Breathed, and I sprung—a burning tree of bloom— Beside you. Have you eyes for flights unseen? Hearing for choirs unheard? Here, too, beside you Fierce swarms of golden fancies work in song The fecund pollen of my passion, here A thousand bird-wing’d visions nest them down Into the heart of me, to chant your praise. You that have so transformed me, you repulse me Now? [_Enter right, in the background, Arfi; he pauses unseen._] THORDIS Take your eyes from mine. EGIL You love me; you Who fostered me, the wild thing, love me still. My secret scar is on you; you are mine, Not his. THORDIS Oh, leave me! EGIL Yet you seize my hand. THORDIS Leave me, leave me! EGIL Yet you take me to your heart. THORDIS A myriad loves the heart hath, but one mate. Once only may the cry of soul and body Be answered; the great need can be but once. EGIL Now is the great need come. THORDIS How may we know? EGIL I am your being’s master. If his soul Were listening to us now, I would cry out: “I have outgrown thee, brother. What thou art I am and more, for I have wrung from thee Thy potent mind, and forged it to my passions To make a lordlier instrument. Mine, therefore, Not thine, the ordainèd need of her. Mine!” THORDIS Love me! [_He kisses her. Arfi moves into the thicket and disappears. Thordis, putting Egil from her, draws a dagger upon herself._] Ah, my betrayer! It is ended. EGIL [_Seizing the knife from her._] No; You shall not choose so. If that name indeed Be mine, keep silence now, while I avenge The kiss of thy seducer. [_As he turns the knife upon himself, Thordis cries out._] THORDIS Egil! EGIL Love! [_Springing to her, beside the pool, he recoils._] Impending image! persecuting shape! Depart. THORDIS Alas! are we both mad? EGIL Remove The prying horror of thine eyes. Not now— At this the utmost instant of my joy Intrude not now. THORDIS Whom do you speak to? EGIL [_Staring past Thordis into the pool._] There! Look, we have murdered him. It comes to tell us; It points at thee, to say thou, too, art guilty. We have betrayed and killed him, thou and I. See, see! It kneels and craves our sanction.—Rise, Remorseless shadow! Go! I give it thee. [_He hurls the dagger into the pool. As he staggers back, Thordis rests his head on her shoulder._] THORDIS Peace, brain and heart! VOICES [_Far away, right, sing._] How should the bed, the bridal bed, Freyja, be spread? Pine garlands at the foot, rose garlands at the head. EGIL Is it gone? THORDIS Nothing is there. Rest, rest, poor dreamer! THE VOICES [_Sing._] What on the maid, the bride and maid, Freyja, be laid? The rose’s innocence, ere those fresh garlands fade. EGIL Hark! the bridal virgins! [_Thordis shrinks from him._] Stay, Thordis; now the awful need is come. While yet we are alone in the great silence, Now, now, before they find it, pale and red, Heaped in the path of roses, now—be mine. THORDIS Freyja, help me! Freyja, goddess and maiden! EGIL His soul descends upon us both, and seals This act with blood of sacrifice. His blood Our nuptial rite hath reddened. THORDIS Save me! EGIL Hush! This is the vernal god, the appalling arm That clasped the world i’ the primal age, and moaned— “Let there be life!”—Hush, love; do not you hear The stealing saps stir through the forest, feel The seeking joys of all wild, mating things Throb in their blood and ours, their kindred,— THORDIS [_Breaking from him._] Help! Help, Arfi! [_She escapes, right, into the wood. As Egil pursues her, there steps from the thicket, into his path, Arfi. Egil pauses._] EGIL May the dead be summoned back To curse us with forgiveness?—Spirit, be stern And not compassionate. Come in your wounds, Fell and disfigured, not benignly thus. Oh, not your love-your vengeance! Not your love! [_Shields his eyes with his arms. As he does so, Arfi, with a serene gesture, is about to speak, when from the thicket Yorul springs silently out and stabs him. Arfi falls motionless; Yorul withdraws. Slowly Egil looks again._] Yea, now thou hast resumed thy murder-garment, And hast drawn on thy bridal-robe of wounds, And laid thee at my feet in vengeance. Now This is indeed thy vengeance—brother! master! [_Stoops beside the body._] VOICES OF THE VIRGINS [_Sing, near._] What o’er the man the maid shall wed, Freyja, be shed? The pine’s immortal breath, ere those green boughs are dead. [_Starting up, fearful, Egil hales the body toward the left, but having reached the centre pauses, as the laughter of children rises in the way before him. Turning, he is dragging the body down scene, when the children, scampering in, left, with their aprons and baskets full of wild flowers, run towards him. Finger on lip, he motions them silence; their laughter and shouts die away, awed_.] EGIL He is asleep; the bridegroom is asleep. Scatter your wild flowers over him. Look, he smiles, He’ll laugh when he awakes and sees them.—Soft! THE CHILDREN [_Whispering, gather in a circle and, pleased as at some game of mystery, heap the flowers upon Arfi, and sing low._] Flowers bring And fairy numbers! Sweet Spring His spirit cumbers. Still be highhole! still be thrush! Hush! hush! Now he slumbers. [_Treading softly, with covert laughter and “hushes,” the children steal away. Heaped over the body of Arfi and completely concealing it, they have left behind them a great pile of arbutus, violets, and other flowers. Some of these Egil is replacing more carefully, when the pile is shaken from within, and up through it rises the form_ BALDUR. _Dazzled, Egil kneels._] BALDUR Hail, brother! EGIL Art thou sunlight, or a voice? BALDUR This is the word of Odin! [_Egil sinks prostrate._] If the wolf Seduce to his desire his brother’s bride, He shall be lord with her of heaven and earth And hell, and by their passion the serene And stablished beacons of the gods shall be Eclipsed in night, anarchical and void, Where, staggering with lust, the blinded world Reels back to chaos and the primal dark. EGIL [_Hiding his face._] And if the wolf renounce her? BALDUR He shall perish, Slain by his own self-mastery, and all The spirits of light, freed from that awful dread, Shall strew his charnel, singing. EGIL Ah! but she— BALDUR She falters yet; she hangs upon his will. The lure of imperfection is the sin Of gods, the lure of godhood that of mortals. She wavers still. EGIL Bright shadow, golden voice, Say what thou art. BALDUR Baldur, the son of Odin. EGIL [_Starts up._] Then I—? BALDUR Fenris, the wolf-god! [_He sinks again into the flowers, and is gone._] EGIL Ah! the dream! The dream is true; the truth is visionary. [_From the left, two or three of the children return from the wood, and stand silent. From the right, the lutes and pipes of the bridal procession grow louder, and shortly enter the virgins_, INGIMUND, _Thordis, Wuldor, and others, as Egil still stands lost in soliloquy._] “And there, in slumber, even as mortals dream, Slumb’ring, that they are bright, immortal gods, You shall be mortals, and shall walk as men, Forgetful of your immortality.” THORDIS Was not he with you, father? INGIMUND He went before A little space, to greet you first.—My child, Why do you cling to me? EGIL [_Approaching her._] Goddess and maiden! THORDIS He’s mad. Save us! We both are mad. INGIMUND Thy brother, Where is he? EGIL Father, he hath gone before A little space, but left thy word with me. INGIMUND _My_ word? EGIL The word of truth. [_A little girl, moving back some of the flowers, has disclosed the dead body of Arfi, blood-stained._] THE LITTLE GIRL He’s still asleep. THORDIS [_Goes to it with a cry._] Arfi! WULDOR I thought it, Ingimund; he’s murdered. INGIMUND His bane! What hand struck this? EGIL Lo, I will tell; The dream must end. Thou saidest: He shall perish, And all the spirits of light, freed from that dread, Shall strew his charnel, singing. INGIMUND Madman! Thou— YORUL [_Entering from the thicket._] _I_ murdered him. THORDIS [_Starting up from the body._] Yorul! YORUL [_Showing dagger._] His blood is here. EGIL Yet shall the dreamers wake, the truth prevail. YORUL ’Twas I! This hand— EGIL And shall that hand put out The beacons of the gods with primal dark, And hurl the blinded world to chaos? THORDIS Egil! Thou art innocent! Oh, in this blank of death That truth remains. EGIL [_Turning upon Yorul._] Scourge and seductor! INGIMUND [_To Egil._] Speak! Hath this man done this deed? EGIL [_Slowly._] Yes; it was Yorul. [_Yorul is seized._] ACT IV SCENE: The rune-stone. _A white-rose bush, beside it, in bloom; a flame on the altar; sunset._ _Enter_ EGIL, _alone_. EGIL Put it away? To put all from me—all— Or else despoil! Renounce, or with a kiss Consume the bright seduction! Mar—relinquish, In either path, to suffer; yet to see Myself at last for what I am, to know The inexorable bars, the nudging rafters, The starry lych-gate and the pit of tears Of this my soul and penthouse.—And the escape! To know that I—myself the miracle I worshipped—am a god, a sovereign lord Of nature, powerful to make the bounds And marches of the heaven my petty fiefs Of mind,—yet what a god! A clawed usurper, That snatches from the shoulders of the gods The green and azure cloth of summer-time, This human tapestry of spring and harvest Star-wrought with sanguine hearts and golden sheaves, And tears it, tooth-meal, for a wolf’s lair.—This, This also must have challenge: Might not Egil O’ermaster Fenris? Can the mind o’ermaster The will? [_Supplicating the rune-stone._] O mystery, that made us two Yet one, resolve thyself and this and seal it! To put all, all away, or with a kiss consume? [_Pausing, he breaks a white rose, and holding it near and nearer the altar-flame watches it—as though for a sign—till it scorches; then snatching it back, extinguishes the flame. While he is bending over thus_, THORDIS _enters,—in her hands a rope of twined arbutus-flowers. All in white, she is very pale; approaching behind Egil, she watches over his shoulder the rose petals and the flame. Suddenly, throwing the rope of arbutus over his head, she winds it about him. Turning, he drops the rose, and they gaze at each other, anguished._] EGIL [_After a silence._] Why have you left the body? THORDIS [_Binding his arms down with the blossoms._] I have come To bring you back in chains to prison. EGIL Where— THORDIS I know a dungeon where the dead are not. EGIL Where—have you left the body? THORDIS They are bringing Their burden here. EGIL These flowers? THORDIS Arbutus. EGIL Those? And you could weave of those this chain for me? THORDIS Could weave a garland of a winding-sheet? I could; I did; and whilst I wove, I heard Above my head the small birds singing “Horror,” And underfoot “Horror” the sweet grass sang; But in my bosom sung, “He loves me.” EGIL Keep From me, lest thou be scorched. THORDIS Was he not gentle, Exalted, tender? Who that saw his smile But thought “A star breaks”?—Now for us all dark, A shape of clay. Oh, why should sudden love Come like the tempest, and blot out from skies Of memory all golden yesterdays? But so it is; the storm of thee shuts down Over my world; thy lightnings have put out His smile. EGIL Is it not enough that I have spilled His blood upon my soul, but must that, more, Pollute the whiteness of a goddess’ heart And desecrate perfection? THORDIS [_With a wan smile of pain, drawing him with the arbutus toward her._] Come—to prison. EGIL His blood, I said; did you not hear? Not Yorul— _I_ murdered him! THORDIS You do not understand; It was not you; ’twas I. EGIL The hand of Yorul Stabbed him, but my intent. THORDIS You do not ask Where I’ve prepared your dungeon.—Come. EGIL Too late, You precious chains! I am free. THORDIS Thy words again! “Free, but alone, adrift!” I hear thee still, Forever, calling in thy need of me— “O take me back, the wild thing!” Come!—I take thee; I nestle thee once more, a captive. Come, Alone no more! EGIL It is too late. ’Tis he, Your god and lover, whom they are bringing back To claim you. THORDIS [_Clinging to him._] Who shall claim me from your side? [_Enter a procession of folk, virgins, and children, bearing a low bier, covered with a cloth of green, behind which walks_ YORUL, _bound_. INGIMUND, _who enters first, ascends, by the stone steps, the altar, before which the bier is set down. While this is being borne, the dirge continues._] VIRGINS AND CHILDREN [_Chant._] Heiri! heiri! heiri! Othin ok Æsir! [_Ingimund signs to a priest to loosen the hands of Yorul, who stands in front of the bier._] INGIMUND Give him the cup. The murderer shall drink The bane of murder. [_The priest hands to Yorul a cup, which, as he raises it quietly to his lips, is wrenched from his hand by Egil, who embraces him._] EGIL My deliverer!— Brother, awake! I give thee back thy bride. [_On the bier, the green cloth is thrown back, and_ BALDUR, _rising, steps upon the altar._ THORDIS _gazes upon him._] This is my heart’s desire—take it! ’tis yours. BALDUR Freyja! THORDIS [_With a wild cry, going to him._] Baldur! THE FOLK [_Prostrating themselves._] The gods! the gods! [_Thordis and Ingimund, by Baldur’s side, are transfigured, and a hedge of flowers and flame springs up before the altar, encircling the three._] EGIL [_Apart, drinks from the cup._] To freedom! [_Baldur and Thordis, clinging to each other, look at Egil._] YORUL [_Staring at Baldur, speaks to Egil._] Whom, lord, dost thou name “brother”? EGIL Him—and thee, Both, for through me henceforward you are kindred. Yorul! my men, my liegemen! you—you also Conceived in chains and born in passion, you Also, who from an immemorial brute Rage for emancipation, oh, forget not Your brother Fenris, him who was brought forth A glorious miscarriage of the gods, To be exalted to a man. [_He sinks upon the bier._] The chains! Yorul—the chains! [_Striving to break the arbutus links, which hang loosely upon him, he falls back._] YORUL Master! ODIN The wolf is tamed. [_In sudden fire, the gods disappear, leaving deep twilight. Vague, the body of Egil lies dead on the bier._ _Beside it, amid the prostrate folk, rising alone, stands Yorul, with arms upreached toward the rune-stone._] THE VIRGINS AND CHILDREN [_Singing._] Heiri! heiri! heiri! Balthur ok Freyja! [_Far off, the ice-crown of the volcano flushes in the afterglow._] * * * * * * Transcriber’s note: Old or antiquated spellings have been preserved. Typographical errors have been silently corrected but other variations in spelling and punctuation remain unaltered. Each act in the original had a full page identifying the act as well as a heading at the beginning of the act. 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