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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._]