ACT IV
Scene: The rune-stone.
A white-rose bush, beside it, in bloom; a flame on thealtar; sunset.EnterEgil,alone.EGILPut it away? To put all from me—all—Or else despoil! Renounce, or with a kissConsume the bright seduction! Mar—relinquish,In either path, to suffer; yet to seeMyself at last for what I am, to knowThe inexorable bars, the nudging rafters,The starry lych-gate and the pit of tearsOf this my soul and penthouse.—And the escape!To know that I—myself the miracleI worshipped—am a god, a sovereign lordOf nature, powerful to make the boundsAnd marches of the heaven my petty fiefsOf mind,—yet what a god! A clawed usurper,That snatches from the shoulders of the godsThe green and azure cloth of summer-time,This human tapestry of spring and harvestStar-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 EgilO’ermaster Fenris? Can the mind o’ermasterThe will?[Supplicating the rune-stone.]O mystery, that made us twoYet 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 nearand nearer the altar-flame watches it—as though fora sign—till it scorches; then snatching it back,extinguishes the flame. While he is bending over thus,Thordisenters,—in her hands a rope of twinedarbutus-flowers. All in white, she is very pale;approaching behind Egil, she watches over his shoulderthe rose petals and the flame. Suddenly, throwing therope 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 comeTo bring you back in chains to prison.EGILWhere—THORDISI know a dungeon where the dead are not.EGILWhere—have you left the body?THORDISThey are bringingTheir burden here.EGILThese flowers?THORDISArbutus.EGILThose?And you could weave of those this chain for me?THORDISCould weave a garland of a winding-sheet?I could; I did; and whilst I wove, I heardAbove my head the small birds singing “Horror,”And underfoot “Horror” the sweet grass sang;But in my bosom sung, “He loves me.”EGILKeepFrom me, lest thou be scorched.THORDISWas he not gentle,Exalted, tender? Who that saw his smileBut thought “A star breaks”?—Now for us all dark,A shape of clay. Oh, why should sudden loveCome like the tempest, and blot out from skiesOf memory all golden yesterdays?But so it is; the storm of thee shuts downOver my world; thy lightnings have put outHis smile.EGILIs it not enough that I have spilledHis blood upon my soul, but must that, more,Pollute the whiteness of a goddess’ heartAnd desecrate perfection?THORDIS[With a wan smile of pain, drawing him with thearbutus toward her.]Come—to prison.EGILHis blood, I said; did you not hear? Not Yorul—Imurdered him!THORDISYou do not understand;It was not you; ’twas I.EGILThe hand of YorulStabbed him, but my intent.THORDISYou do not askWhere I’ve prepared your dungeon.—Come.EGILToo late,You precious chains! I am free.THORDISThy 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!EGILIt is too late. ’Tis he,Your god and lover, whom they are bringing backTo claim you.THORDIS[Clinging to him.]Who shall claim me from your side?[Enter a procession of folk, virgins, and children, bearinga low bier, covered with a cloth of green, behind whichwalksYorul,bound.Ingimund,who enters first,ascends, by the stone steps, the altar, before which thebier is set down. While this is being borne, the dirgecontinues.]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.]INGIMUNDGive him the cup. The murderer shall drinkThe bane of murder.[The priest hands to Yorul a cup, which, as he raises itquietly to his lips, is wrenched from his hand by Egil,who embraces him.]EGILMy deliverer!—Brother, awake! I give thee back thy bride.[On the bier, the green cloth is thrown back, andBaldur,rising, steps upon the altar.Thordisgazes upon him.]This is my heart’s desire—take it! ’tis yours.BALDURFreyja!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 thealtar, 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”?EGILHim—and thee,Both, for through me henceforward you are kindred.Yorul! my men, my liegemen! you—you alsoConceived in chains and born in passion, youAlso, who from an immemorial bruteRage for emancipation, oh, forget notYour brother Fenris, him who was brought forthA 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 looselyupon him, he falls back.]YORULMaster!ODINThe wolf is tamed.[In sudden fire, the gods disappear, leaving deep twilight.Vague, the body of Egil lies dead on the bier.Besideit, 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.]
A white-rose bush, beside it, in bloom; a flame on thealtar; sunset.EnterEgil,alone.EGILPut it away? To put all from me—all—Or else despoil! Renounce, or with a kissConsume the bright seduction! Mar—relinquish,In either path, to suffer; yet to seeMyself at last for what I am, to knowThe inexorable bars, the nudging rafters,The starry lych-gate and the pit of tearsOf this my soul and penthouse.—And the escape!To know that I—myself the miracleI worshipped—am a god, a sovereign lordOf nature, powerful to make the boundsAnd marches of the heaven my petty fiefsOf mind,—yet what a god! A clawed usurper,That snatches from the shoulders of the godsThe green and azure cloth of summer-time,This human tapestry of spring and harvestStar-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 EgilO’ermaster Fenris? Can the mind o’ermasterThe will?[Supplicating the rune-stone.]O mystery, that made us twoYet 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 nearand nearer the altar-flame watches it—as though fora sign—till it scorches; then snatching it back,extinguishes the flame. While he is bending over thus,Thordisenters,—in her hands a rope of twinedarbutus-flowers. All in white, she is very pale;approaching behind Egil, she watches over his shoulderthe rose petals and the flame. Suddenly, throwing therope 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 comeTo bring you back in chains to prison.EGILWhere—THORDISI know a dungeon where the dead are not.EGILWhere—have you left the body?THORDISThey are bringingTheir burden here.EGILThese flowers?THORDISArbutus.EGILThose?And you could weave of those this chain for me?THORDISCould weave a garland of a winding-sheet?I could; I did; and whilst I wove, I heardAbove my head the small birds singing “Horror,”And underfoot “Horror” the sweet grass sang;But in my bosom sung, “He loves me.”EGILKeepFrom me, lest thou be scorched.THORDISWas he not gentle,Exalted, tender? Who that saw his smileBut thought “A star breaks”?—Now for us all dark,A shape of clay. Oh, why should sudden loveCome like the tempest, and blot out from skiesOf memory all golden yesterdays?But so it is; the storm of thee shuts downOver my world; thy lightnings have put outHis smile.EGILIs it not enough that I have spilledHis blood upon my soul, but must that, more,Pollute the whiteness of a goddess’ heartAnd desecrate perfection?THORDIS[With a wan smile of pain, drawing him with thearbutus toward her.]Come—to prison.EGILHis blood, I said; did you not hear? Not Yorul—Imurdered him!THORDISYou do not understand;It was not you; ’twas I.EGILThe hand of YorulStabbed him, but my intent.THORDISYou do not askWhere I’ve prepared your dungeon.—Come.EGILToo late,You precious chains! I am free.THORDISThy 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!EGILIt is too late. ’Tis he,Your god and lover, whom they are bringing backTo claim you.THORDIS[Clinging to him.]Who shall claim me from your side?[Enter a procession of folk, virgins, and children, bearinga low bier, covered with a cloth of green, behind whichwalksYorul,bound.Ingimund,who enters first,ascends, by the stone steps, the altar, before which thebier is set down. While this is being borne, the dirgecontinues.]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.]INGIMUNDGive him the cup. The murderer shall drinkThe bane of murder.[The priest hands to Yorul a cup, which, as he raises itquietly to his lips, is wrenched from his hand by Egil,who embraces him.]EGILMy deliverer!—Brother, awake! I give thee back thy bride.[On the bier, the green cloth is thrown back, andBaldur,rising, steps upon the altar.Thordisgazes upon him.]This is my heart’s desire—take it! ’tis yours.BALDURFreyja!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 thealtar, 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”?EGILHim—and thee,Both, for through me henceforward you are kindred.Yorul! my men, my liegemen! you—you alsoConceived in chains and born in passion, youAlso, who from an immemorial bruteRage for emancipation, oh, forget notYour brother Fenris, him who was brought forthA 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 looselyupon him, he falls back.]YORULMaster!ODINThe wolf is tamed.[In sudden fire, the gods disappear, leaving deep twilight.Vague, the body of Egil lies dead on the bier.Besideit, 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.]
A white-rose bush, beside it, in bloom; a flame on thealtar; sunset.
EnterEgil,alone.
EGILPut it away? To put all from me—all—Or else despoil! Renounce, or with a kissConsume the bright seduction! Mar—relinquish,In either path, to suffer; yet to seeMyself at last for what I am, to knowThe inexorable bars, the nudging rafters,The starry lych-gate and the pit of tearsOf this my soul and penthouse.—And the escape!To know that I—myself the miracleI worshipped—am a god, a sovereign lordOf nature, powerful to make the boundsAnd marches of the heaven my petty fiefsOf mind,—yet what a god! A clawed usurper,That snatches from the shoulders of the godsThe green and azure cloth of summer-time,This human tapestry of spring and harvestStar-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 EgilO’ermaster Fenris? Can the mind o’ermasterThe will?
[Supplicating the rune-stone.]
O mystery, that made us twoYet 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 nearand nearer the altar-flame watches it—as though fora sign—till it scorches; then snatching it back,extinguishes the flame. While he is bending over thus,Thordisenters,—in her hands a rope of twinedarbutus-flowers. All in white, she is very pale;approaching behind Egil, she watches over his shoulderthe rose petals and the flame. Suddenly, throwing therope 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 comeTo bring you back in chains to prison.
EGILWhere—
THORDISI know a dungeon where the dead are not.
EGILWhere—have you left the body?
THORDISThey are bringingTheir burden here.
EGILThese flowers?
THORDISArbutus.
EGILThose?And you could weave of those this chain for me?
THORDISCould weave a garland of a winding-sheet?I could; I did; and whilst I wove, I heardAbove my head the small birds singing “Horror,”And underfoot “Horror” the sweet grass sang;But in my bosom sung, “He loves me.”
EGILKeepFrom me, lest thou be scorched.
THORDISWas he not gentle,Exalted, tender? Who that saw his smileBut thought “A star breaks”?—Now for us all dark,A shape of clay. Oh, why should sudden loveCome like the tempest, and blot out from skiesOf memory all golden yesterdays?But so it is; the storm of thee shuts downOver my world; thy lightnings have put outHis smile.
EGILIs it not enough that I have spilledHis blood upon my soul, but must that, more,Pollute the whiteness of a goddess’ heartAnd desecrate perfection?
THORDIS[With a wan smile of pain, drawing him with thearbutus toward her.]Come—to prison.
EGILHis blood, I said; did you not hear? Not Yorul—Imurdered him!
THORDISYou do not understand;It was not you; ’twas I.
EGILThe hand of YorulStabbed him, but my intent.
THORDISYou do not askWhere I’ve prepared your dungeon.—Come.
EGILToo late,You precious chains! I am free.
THORDISThy 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!
EGILIt is too late. ’Tis he,Your god and lover, whom they are bringing backTo claim you.
THORDIS[Clinging to him.]Who shall claim me from your side?
[Enter a procession of folk, virgins, and children, bearinga low bier, covered with a cloth of green, behind whichwalksYorul,bound.Ingimund,who enters first,ascends, by the stone steps, the altar, before which thebier is set down. While this is being borne, the dirgecontinues.]
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.]
INGIMUNDGive him the cup. The murderer shall drinkThe bane of murder.
[The priest hands to Yorul a cup, which, as he raises itquietly to his lips, is wrenched from his hand by Egil,who embraces him.]
EGILMy deliverer!—Brother, awake! I give thee back thy bride.
[On the bier, the green cloth is thrown back, andBaldur,rising, steps upon the altar.Thordisgazes upon him.]
This is my heart’s desire—take it! ’tis yours.
BALDURFreyja!
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 thealtar, 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”?
EGILHim—and thee,Both, for through me henceforward you are kindred.Yorul! my men, my liegemen! you—you alsoConceived in chains and born in passion, youAlso, who from an immemorial bruteRage for emancipation, oh, forget notYour brother Fenris, him who was brought forthA 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 looselyupon him, he falls back.]
YORULMaster!
ODINThe wolf is tamed.
[In sudden fire, the gods disappear, leaving deep twilight.Vague, the body of Egil lies dead on the bier.Besideit, 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:The cover image is in the public domain.Uncertain or antiquated spellings or ancient words were not corrected.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. The full page act numbers have been removed from this edition as being redundant.
Transcriber's Note:
The cover image is in the public domain.
Uncertain or antiquated spellings or ancient words were not corrected.
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. The full page act numbers have been removed from this edition as being redundant.