Early Plays, Henrik Ibsen [best historical fiction books of all time TXT] 📗

them yet.  Ingeborg may have escaped after all; the

rest of us came out of it untouched in spite of the cunning of

the cursed witch;--Ingeborg has been bewildered with fright and

has sought refuge somewhere.

 

ARNE.  Yes, yes, that may be the case with Ingeborg; but Hemming

is past all hope,--of that I am sure!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  How so?

 

ARNE.  O, he had become such a sly and contriving devil of late!

He has let himself be shut in and burnt merely to get revenge

over me; he knows I can't get along for a single day without him.

O, I know him!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Well, however it is, Alfhild we must capture; she

shall be tried, condemned, and punished; I have misdeeds a plenty

to charge her with.

 

ARNE.  And I can mention a few in case it is necessary; she has

stolen my dapple-gray horse from the stable; this morning it was

gone with saddle and bridle.

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [Aside.]  Ingeborg and Hemming gone, and his horse

likewise; were I in his place I should know what to think.

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [Aloud.]  Now let us divide and go about in small

groups; he who first gets his eye on Alfhild shall blow the

trumpet or horn; let the rest listen and follow the sound till we

are assembled again.

 

[They go out at different sides.]

 

ARNE.  [Who alone has remained.]  And I, who am not acquainted

here,--how am I to find my way.

 

ARNE.  [Calls.]  Hemming!  Hemming!

 

[Stops.]

 

ARNE.  I forgot,--he is--

 

ARNE.  [Shaking his head.]  Hm!  It was a shameful trick he

played.

 

[He goes out to the right.]

ACT3 SCENE7

 

[ALFHILD appears near the tarn to the left; she

carries a little bundle.]

 

ALFHILD.  I have wailed, I have wept, till my heart is sore;

I am weary and tired, I can weep no more!

 

[Sinks down on a stone in the foreground.]

 

ALFHILD.  First to my father farewell I shall say!

Then into the mountains I make my way!

Down here I see Olaf wherever I go;

I must up in the heights to steel my mind!

I must deaden my grief, forget what I know,

And leave all the memories dear behind!

 

ALFHILD.  The life in my dream had so rosy a hue!

'Tis nothing but fiction, nothing is true,--

'Tis nothing but nonsense and shifting lies;

Naught can be seized and held in the hand.

Naught must be looked at with open eyes,

Nothing stands proof when we understand!

 

[The sound of trumpets is heard from the wood.]

 

ALFHILD.  My mother's heirlooms I take with me;

I shall bury them deep in the ground!

I shall bury them deep 'neath the tall birch tree,

Over yonder where Olaf I found!

 

[She opens her bundle and takes out a bridal crown and other

ornaments.]

 

ALFHILD.  This crown did my mother once wear on her head;

She too by the world then was tricked and misled,

She too then in love and its power believed.

Was she too so rudely deceived?

Was it only in jest that my father did sing

The pleasures that gladden the human breast?

Ah, then he should never have said anything;

His songs have robbed me of earthly rest;

His songs built a home for the ecstasies

Of life in my heart,--now in ruin it lies!

 

[The trumpets are heard again.]

 

ALFHILD.  Silver indeed is a metal of worth,

'Twill never crumble like autumn hay.

Were it hid for a thousand years in the earth,

It would still glitter bright, it would never decay!

The pleasures of life are like autumn hay,

And sorrow like silver that glitters alway!

 

[Ties the ornaments together in the bundle.]

 

ALFHILD.  A magic treasure I often recall,

From which dropped nine glorious pearls every night;

But no matter how many the pearls it let fall,

The treasure remained just as big and as bright!

 

ALFHILD.  A treasure of magic, this sorrow of mine,

And from it shall drip by night and by day,

Not nine,--but ten thousand pearls that shine,--

Yet the treasure shall never decay!--

Yes, the world has made me so wise,--so wise!

Once I followed the clouds in their flight,

Flew dreaming with them on their path in the skies,

And called them the swans of the light!

I thought that the trees spread their branches so wide,

That I might walk in the shade;

I thought there was life in the mountain side.

A sorry mistake I have made.

Now I know better;--for man alone

Can revel in joy, can suffer despair.

In tree and in flower, friend there is none,--

My sorrow alone I must bear.

 

[She rises.]

 

ALFHILD.  Away then!  Up midst the ice and the snow,--

The grave is the only shelter below!

 

[She starts to leave.]

ACT3 SCENE8

 

[ALFHILD, LADY KIRSTEN, ARNE, WEDDING GUESTS, PEASANTS

and SERVANTS from various sides.  Later OLAF

LILJEKRANS.]

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  There she is!  Stand still, Alfhild!  Do not try

to escape,--else we shall shoot you.

 

ALFHILD.  What do you want of me?

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  That you shall learn soon enough.

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [Points to her bundle.]  What is this you are

carrying?

 

ALFHILD.  My mother's treasures!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Give it here!  See, see!  A crown of silver!

Indeed, Alfhild!  If you are your mother's only daughter I am

very much afraid the bridal crown will nevermore be needed in her

family.

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [To the Servants.]  Bind her!  She stands there

and pretends to be sad; no one can know what she is scheming.

 

[ALFHILD is bound.]

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [Aloud and with suppressed passion.]  The court is

ready.  As you all know, I have a legal and prescriptive right to

protect my dominions, to pass judgment in accordance with the law

of the realm on every one who does me harm on my own lands.  This

is what you, Alfhild, have presumed to do, and it is therefore

that you now stand here accused before your judge.  Defend

yourself if you can, but do not forget it is a matter of life and

death.

 

ARNE.  But listen, Lady Kirsten!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Excuse me, Lord Arne!  I am within my rights here,

and I intend to insist on them.

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [To ALFHILD.]  Come forward and answer me!

 

ALFHILD.  Do you but question me,--I shall answer!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Many and grievous are the charges that are

directed against you.  First and foremost I charge you here with

having beguiled my son, Olaf Liljekrans, with your unholy arts,

so that he turned heart and soul away from his betrothed to whom

he was pledged,--so that he, sick in heart, never at any time

found peace in his home, but came up here to this unknown valley

where you have had your home.  All this could not have happened

in any ordinary way; you are therefore accused of

witchcraft,--defend yourself if you can.

 

ALFHILD.  I have little to say in answer to this.  Witchcraft you

call that strange power that drew Olaf up here.  Perhaps you are

right; but this witchcraft was not of evil;--every hour that Olaf

has been here God must surely have witnessed!  Each thought that

I have had of Olaf the angels of God must have known!  And they

had no occasion to blush.

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Enough, enough!  You would add blasphemy to your

transgression!  Woe upon you, Alfhild!  Your every word only adds

weight to the scales.  Yet, that is your affair!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [To the rest.]  I crave you all as witnesses to

her answer.

 

[Turns to ALFHILD.]

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  I charge you next with having again, this very

night, with the aid of these same secret powers, met Olaf up

here, and furthermore that you keep him concealed in here!

 

ALFHILD.  There you are right!  Secretly is he hidden here!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  You admit it?

 

ALFHILD.  Yes, but however powerful you are, you will never be

able to set him free.  Perhaps it would be best for me if you

were able; but neither you nor the whole wide world have the

power to set him free!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [In a violent outburst.]  Now death will certainly

be your punishment!  Out with it,--where have you got him?

 

ALFHILD.  [Presses her hands to her bosom.]  In here--in my

heart!  If you can tear him out from it you can practice

witchcraft better than I!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  That answer is nothing.  Out with it,--where is

he?

 

ALFHILD.  I have answered!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [With repressed irritation.]  Good!

 

ARNE.  [To the spectators.]  Were Hemming alive he would have

been able to get the truth out of her; he had become so crafty of

late.

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Now the third charge against you: last night you

set fire to my house and burned it clear to the ground.  Perhaps

human life has been lost,--that we not know as yet,--but whether

or no, it will neither harm nor help your cause; for your

intention to burn all of us is as clear as day.  Do you deny my

charge that you set fire to my home last night?

 

ALFHILD.  I do not deny it; I have destroyed your house!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  And how will you extenuate your action?

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [With bitter mockery.]  You shall not be able to

say that you acted over hastily.  Good opportunity you had, so

far as I can remember, to stop and consider; you stood outside

there, no one came near you, no one prevented you from

deliberating as calmly as you could.  Nor shall you say that the

merriment of the festive occasion went to your head, nor that the

wine distracted you; for you were not on the inside at all; you

stood on the outside, and it was cool enough there,--the biting

wind should have made you sober.

 

ALFHILD.  Yes, I destroyed your house last night; but you and

Olaf and all the rest of you out there have done me a greater

wrong.  The world was to me a festive hall which belonged to the

Great Father.  The blue heaven was its roof, the stars were the

lamps that shone from its ceiling.  I wandered happy and rich in

all this; but you, you threw a brand right in the midst of this

golden splendor; now is everything withered and dead!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Such talk will profit you little!  Still once more

I ask, where is Olaf Liljekrans, my son?

 

ALFHILD.  I have answered!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Then you have also passed your own sentence, and I

shall confirm it.

 

[OLAF appears on the rocky cliff among the trees, unnoticed by

the rest.]

 

OLAF.  [Aside.]  Alfhild!  God help me!  What is that?

 

[Withdraws unseen.]

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  You have, in accordance with the law of the land,

incurred the penalty of death as guilty of witchcraft and arson.

This sentence is herewith pronounced upon you, and forthwith

right here on the spot it shall be executed.

 

ARNE.  But listen, Lady Kirsten!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Judgment is pronounced!  Alfhild shall die!

 

ALFHILD.  Do as you please; little shall I be of hindrance to

you.  When Olaf denied his love, then ceased my life,--I live no

longer.

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Take her up on the rocky ledge over there.

 

[Two Servants take ALFHILD up.]

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  For the last time, Alfhild!  Give me back my son!

 

ALFHILD.  I will answer no more!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  Just as you please!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [To the Servants.]  Cast her down!  No, wait!  I

have an idea!

 

LADY KIRSTEN.  [To ALFHILD.]  As you stand there, I remember you

again as you yesterday came forward with the golden crown and

thought you were worthy to be Olaf Liljekrans' bride.  Now we

soon shall see how much you are worth; there are present here

peasants and servants and many humble men;--perhaps your life can

still be saved!  Yes, Alfhild!  You stare