_A small hut in the hills. Two large stones covered with skins serve as
seats. The low bedstead is also covered with skins. On the wall hang
some poor, clumsy tools. In the slanting roof, a small window is
darkened with snow. On the hearth, a low fire. Outside, a snowstorm. Now
and then, snow comes whirling down the smoke-hole._
_Kari is pacing to and fro, beating his arms. Halla sits silent. They
are both dressed in skins._
_Halla._
Are you cold?
_Kari._
I don't know. (_Halla rises and puts some faggots on the fire. Kari
takes a stick from the wall; counts._) I needn't count the notches. This
is the seventh day the snowstorm is raging without a break, and it is
past Easter. How long do you think it can keep on?
_Halla._
It's no use asking me about it.
_Kari (replaces the stick in the wall)._
If the walls were not frozen so hard, the storm would have torn down the
hut long ago.
_Halla._
It is bound to stop sometime.
_Kari._
You think so? It's four years now since that terrible summer when the
sun was red and dim from morning till night. (_In secret awe._) There
may come a summer when the sun does not rise at all.
_Halla._
It was the ashes that made the sun look so red that summer.
_Kari._
I could well live a whole summer without the sun, if I only had food.
(_Picks up a big knife._) This fellow has not tasted meat in a whole
eternity. (_A rapturous ring comes into his voice._) I remember a ram I
once killed; he was so fat he could hardly walk. (_Plants himself in
front of Halla._) If he stood there now, bodily, should you have
strength enough to hold his feet for me?
_Halla._
I think I should.
_Kari._
We should have to take care not to be too greedy. If we could only hold
back the first two days, we might eat as much as we wanted afterward.
(_His mouth waters; he swallows saliva._) You have seen a butchered
sheep hung up to dry in the wind; its flesh is as tender as a young
girl's. I feel as though I could fondle it; I could bite it.
_Halla._
We have promised each other not to speak of food.
_Kari._
And how do you think the heart would taste smoking hot from the fire?
I could swallow it in one mouthful. I should feel as if I had eaten,
if I could only smell warm meat.
_Halla._
You will make me sick if you don't stop talking about food. Don't you
think I am just as hungry as you are? And I hold my peace.
_Kari._
Yes, you hold your peace. (_Puts down the knife._) If I did not see your
eyes, I should think you were dead, and yet you are human and living
like myself. Are you not? (_Halla is silent._) Or perhaps you are a
heathen image? Must I kneel down before you and pray for fine weather?
Shall I build a fire before you and stain your feet with blood? What do
you want?
_Halla._
I want to be left in peace.
_Kari._
You ought to be a tree, then you could wither in peace. Why don't you
cry out like every living thing that suffers. You don't know how your
calmness racks me. Even the trees cry and moan in the autumn gales--
they wail!
_Halla._
I should wail too, if there was any one that could hear me.
_Kari._
I don't care whether anybody hears my screams or not. I'll scream; I'll
yell. (_Yells._)
_Halla (stands up)._
Are you not ashamed of yourself?
_Kari (in a weak voice)._
This cannot last. I should have gone long ago. I ought to have gone at
once, the first day the food gave out, but you thought every day that
the morrow would bring fine weather. I know you said it to soothe me,
but it was not right.
_Halla._
It was no use going to certain death.
_Kari._
I should never be afraid of getting lost. If the snowstorm is ever so
dark, I find my way. (_Raises his hand._) I know where I am by trend of
the wind.
_Halla._
If you were so sure of yourself, you ought indeed to have gone long ago.
_Kari (hardening)._
You say that?
_Halla._
Yes, I say that.
_Kari._
Take care! You have tempted me to stay day after day. Your believing and
hoping palsied my will. You wormed your own fear into my heart and broke
my courage. If we both die of hunger, the fault is yours, and yours
alone.
_Halla._
Is it my fault?
_Kari._
You have lived in the hills for sixteen years, and you don't know them
more than a child does. Perhaps you think the snowstorm will have pity?
Won't you open the door and bid the snowstorm be still? Why don't you?
_Halla._
You say that it is my fault if we starve to death. Who was it that
stole?
_Kari (stands for a moment speechless)._
You are homely. I have never before seen how homely you are. Your face
makes me think of the head of a dead horse. (_Reaches out his arms._)
May I feel of your hair if it doesn't all come out?
_Halla._
Don't touch me!
_Kari_ (_lets his arms fall. An expression of sadness comes into his
voice_). I thought you were the only one who understood that I could not
help what I did. Neither could you help what you have done, and yet you
are bringing my misdeeds up against me.
_Halla._
Never before have I upbraided you for this, but you put the whole blame
on me.
_Kari._
And you said it in such a hard tone. It was as if you struck me with
stones.
_Halla._
My voice was no harder than yours.
_Kari._
It's becoming in you to chide me, as if you had not yourself urged me to
steal many a time!
_Halla._
Since we became outlawed we have had a right to steal. We had to do it
to keep from starving.
_Kari._
I thought you had forgiven me, and then you have been hoarding your
charges. For sixteen years you have kept them, and they have not been
corrupted either by rust or moth.
_Halla._
Come now, don't be angry, Kari. I said it in the heat of temper.
_Kari._
I am not angry, but it hurt so! I thought that you would be my spokesman
before the Great Judge. If you If could forgive me, He might do it, too.
_Halla._
I did not mean to hurt you. I only said it to defend myself.
_Kari (following up his own thoughts)._
There are stones in the hills that are blood-stained from my feet; you
must gather those and bring them before the Great Judge.
_Halla._
Won't you take to weeping, so I can gather up your tears and bring them
before the Great Judge?
_Kari._
Are you mocking me?
_Halla._
Yes; I won't listen to your whining any longer. Now we shall sit down
and hold our peace. (_Sits down._)
_Kari._
You shall not be worried by my whining. (_Takes the fur socks down from
the wall; sits down and unties the straps of his shoes. Halla watches
him in silence, while he puts on one sock._)
_Halla._
Are you going?
_Kari._
Yes.
_Halla._
You don't ask my advice?
_Kari._
No, this time I don't ask it.
_Halla (rising)._
When you go out of that door, you need not think of me any more.
_Kari._
I know your voice when you are angry. You ought to thank me for going
out in such weather.
_Halla._
Yes, you are brave. It is not that you have any hope of saving our
lives. You will only lie down in the snow and die.
_Kari._
You can believe it if you like.
_Halla (goes to him)._
I beg of you, let those hard words be forgotten.
_Kari._
It is not because of them that I am going. The worst that can befall me
is to die in the snow, and that is better than sitting here.
_Halla._
First of all, we must use our common sense. The only thing we can do is
to wait here until the weather clears.
_Kari._
And then the food will come flying in through the door!
_Halla._
Not that, but there will be means of help. We can dig up roots to still
the worst hunger, and we can go to the lake for fish.
_Kari._
The snowstorm may last four or five days yet, and by that time we shall
be dead from hunger.
_Halla._
How long shall you be gone?
_Kari._
Two days at the most.
_Halla (goes to him and touches his shoulder)._
I beg you to stay for my sake! We have lived together for sixteen years,
and now let us also die together.
_Kari._
I know your way of hiding your will. Now it is your will that I should
stay, but this time you are foiled.
_Halla._
You cared for me when I fled with you to the hills. You told me there
was no one like me in all the world. You carried me across the streams,
until I grew strong enough to ford them myself. You risked your life to
get the things you knew I liked. Have you forgotten?
_Kari._
I have forgotten nothing.
_Halla._
And all the nights we slept with the heavens above us! Was it not
blessed to feel the morning breeze over your face and to open your eyes
and look into the blue sky? Then you kissed me and said that you loved
me.
_Kari._
You shall not stop me from going.
_Halla (turns away from him)._
I know why I have this fear of being alone. It is because I am so far
away from every living thing, and there's no sun and no stream here.
(_Turns toward him._) If we feel that we must die, you can close the
smoke-hole, and I will fill the hut with smoke. We shall lie down side
by side. (_Touches his hand._) I will take your hand, and we shall dream
that we are going out into a sand-storm together.
_Kari (harshly)._
Now leave me in peace.
_Halla (in helpless fear)._
I will tell you the truth. I don't dare to be alone.
_Kari._
Are you afraid of the dark?
_Halla._
When you are gone, I know I shall begin to listen. I know what I shall
hear.
_Kari._
What do you hear?
_Halla._
I hear the sound of a great heavy waterfall. I hear the screams of my
child. You must not leave me.
_Kari (turns away)._
You spare me nothing; you make my going as hard as can be.
_Halla._
I forbid you to go! It's inhuman to leave me here alone. If you ever
come back, you will find me a mad beast.
_Kari._
Now you shall keep still. I will not listen to your whining any longer.
_Halla._
You are like all the rest. When your will is set, you have no heart.
(_Sits down silently._)
_Kari_ (_fastens his foot-gear; ties a rope around his waist_). When I
draw it tight enough, I don't feel that I am hungry. (_Puts on a coat of
heavy fur._) You must watch the fire and not let it go out. I'll bring
you some more faggots from the wood-shed.
_Halla (stands up; her voice is husky)._
Better kill me before you go. (_Bares her breast._) Stab me with your
knife-- right here! I won't scream. (_Shuts her eyes._) I shall think I
am nursing my child, and the little teeth are biting my breast.
_Kari._
Have you gone mad?
_Halla._
You haven't the heart, but you have the heart to let me sit here all
alone. A wretched little train-oil lamp you would put out before you
went; you could not bear to let it burn over nothing. (_Sits down._)
_Kari (stands silent a long time)._
I have been guilty of many a bad deed, but so far as I know, I have
never been cruel. Nor will I be cruel to you. (_Takes off his coat._)
Then we shall wait together as you wish. Does that make you feel
happier?
_Halla._
I don't know. I can feel neither joy nor grief any longer. I think I
would rather be alone.
_Kari._
You don't mean that.
_Halla._
If you think it wiser to go, you must do so.
_Kari._
I thought it would make you glad if I stayed.
_Halla (rising)._
If you had taken me in your arms and told me that you loved me with all
my wretchedness and all my homeliness, that would have made me glad; but
you did not.
_Kari._
Yet you know it was for your sake I stayed.
_Halla._
Are you so sure of that? Perhaps you were afraid that you might be
guilty of a wrong deed. I think you had in mind the Great Judge rather
than me.
_Kari._
I have once been judged by men; that is why I so often think of the last
judgment.
_Halla._
I will have no talk of conscience between you and me. Be yourself with
me, whether you are good or bad. After all, you don't know if the Great
Judge looks kindly at what you call good deeds. Look at me! Look at me!
You could not be more cruel to your worst enemy. Why was I given this
hunger and not the food to still it? I have never wished to be born.
I would rather be anything else than a human being. I would rather be
the sand, whirling aimlessly over yonder waste. If there is a God,
He must be cruel-- but there is no God.
_Kari._
You are only lashing yourself up. You ought rather to humble yourself
and pray God to help both you and me. Without Him we are but dust and
ashes.
_Halla._
I want no mercy any more, but you can go on calling for help.
(_Mockingly._) I am sure He will hear you, if He is not busy breaking up
the glaciers or cleaning out the gorge of a volcano to make it belch up
more fire.
_Kari._
Don't say another word! We are wretched enough without your calling down
new curses upon us.
_Halla._
I have but one sole and only wish before I die, and that is to do some
unheard-of cruel deed. I should like to be a snowslide. I would come in
the dead of night. It would be a joy to see the people half naked
running for their lives-- chaste old maids with gouty hips, and smug
peasant women with bellies bobbing with fat. (_Sits down, breaks into a
paroxysm of laughter, wild and continued._)
_Kari._
You have become a monster. I am afraid of you-- afraid of the only human
being I care for. (_Walks over to a corner, where he finds his old
Bible. Sits down, turning the pages with trembling hands; reads._) "And
it came to pass that as he was praying in a certain place, when he
ceased one of his disciples said unto him, Lord, teach us to pray as
John also taught his disciples. And he said unto them, When ye pray,
say, Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom
come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so in earth. Give us day by day
our daily bread. And forgive us our sins: for we also forgive every one
that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us
from evil. For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory for
ever. Amen."
(_They sit silent a while. Halla, leaning her elbows on her
knees, her face buried in her hands, cries softly. Kari rises,
stands silent for a moment, then goes to her._)
_Kari._
You must not lose heart. When things are at the worst, they will mend.
Perhaps the storm will quiet down during the night.
_Halla._
It is so hard. (_Bursts into sobs._)
_Kari (kneeling)._
But, dearest Halla! Are you ill?
_Halla (warding him off)._
Let me alone.
_Kari (rises slowly)._
You were always so strong. I thought nothing could make you lose heart.
_Halla_ (_looks up. She has stopped crying; her voice is calm and
cold_). You don't love me any more. You have never loved me.
_Kari._
Is that what you are crying for?
_Halla._
Before when you wanted to leave me, I besought you by all the memories I
thought were dear to you. That did not touch you. I humbled myself so
low that I would have thanked you just for a little pity,-- that might
have been an afterglow of your love, but you had no pity. You stayed
only because you were anxious about your own soul.
_Kari._
I stayed also for your sake.
_Halla._
You know better. You would rather die than have your God find you guilty
of an evil deed. You counted the saving of your soul higher than your
life, but I have no God, and I have never been able to tell my soul from
my love. If you had loved me, you would have understood that I was
pleading for my soul. You would have heard it in my voice, but you did
not hear it.
_Kari._
You forget that it was to save our lives I wanted to go.
_Halla_ (_rises. Her eyes are large and burning_). Why did you not take
me with you?
_Kari._
If I had gone alone, I might have come back alive. The two of us would
have been sure to perish.
_Halla (kneels)._
I once dreamed of two people. To them their love was the one and only
law. When they had lived a long life together, they were thrown into
direst need. Hunger drew near to the fine web that time had woven
between them and would tear it asunder. Then they looked into each
other's eyes, and together they walked out into the snowstorm to die.
_Kari._
It is every man's duty to keep alive as long as he can.
_Halla (rising)._
And why should it be, when life has become an agony to ourselves and of
use to no one?
_Kari._
It is the law of God.
_Halla._
The storm writes many laws in the sand. (_Sits down._) When my strength
had given out, you could have left me in the snow.
_Kari._
You know very well that I would never have done that.
_Halla._
That would have been better than to leave me waiting here. And I don't
believe that death is so hard. The storm carries you until you drop from
weariness, and then the snow comes and covers you up. (_Staring before
her with eyes wide open._)
_Kari (is silent for a moment)._
You are bitter, because of our sore plight. Many a time have I told
myself that I have been the curse of your life. If you had never known
me, you would now be living in peace and quiet. You could have ridden to
church every Sunday, if you liked. You would have been the rich and
comely widow with all the young men flocking about you. I dare say you
have often been sorry that you fled with me to the hills. (_Halla is
silent._) I remember once we had been out hunting together all night.
Early in the morning we stood on the rim of the mountain plain looking
down upon the fields and the dwellings of men. On some of the farms, the
fires were lighted already, and the smoke rose straight up into the blue
air, and the streams ran so quietly and pleasantly through the meadows.
I thought then that I could see the homesickness in your eyes.
_Halla (starting up, her voice cold and calm again)._
If I could only have saved my faith in my own love, but I love you no
longer, and it may be that I never have loved you. As a child I used to
live more in my dreams than in the life about me. When I fled with you
to the hills, I thought it was because I loved you, but perhaps it was
only my longing for the strange and unknown. Afterwards, when the days
became harder and lonelier, my love for you was a shelter which I would
seek when sorrow for what I had done came clutching at my heart.
_Kari._
Say no more! You are befouling our love-- yours and mine. You say it was
only a longing for the unknown and the free, unfettered life that made
you flee with me to the hills. Shame on you! (_His voice is soft and
full of sadness._) I know what you have been. No woman was ever greater
in her love than you. When the sun strikes the rim of the glacier, it
takes on the loveliest hues, though in truth it is nothing but dull,
colorless clay. So your love has been the sunlight in my life, and I
love you-- have always loved you. When I was away from you even for a
single day, I would long to see you and hear your voice as eagerly as I
would long for the murmur of a brook when nearly dying from thirst. When
I went hunting and had good luck, I always thought of you. When I
pictured to myself how pleased you would be, I forgot all about my
weariness. But you must not ask the impossible of a man.
_Halla (rising)._
I am cold. Will you fetch some wood?
_Kari._
Yes, indeed. (_Goes to the door; leaves it ajar._) You cannot see a hand
before you. (_Goes out and shuts the door after him._)
[_Halla goes to the door, listens, opens the door. A cloud
of snow comes whirling in. Outside the storm sweeps past.
She takes a long, lingering look around the hut, goes out
into the doorway, throws her head back, and disappears,
carried by the storm._
(_The stage stands empty for a moment._)
_Kari returns, covered with snow, his arms full of faggots._
_Kari._
Why do you leave the door open? (_Sees that Halla is not there, drops
the faggots, goes out hurriedly, calls._) Halla! (_His call is heard
outside the hut. He comes back into the doorway, looks in, cries out._)
Almighty God! (_Two heart-broken cries are heard outside, the latter
farther away and hushed by the storm._) Halla! Halla!
(_The snow comes whirling into the empty hut._)
THE HRAUN FARM
[_Gaarden Hraun_]
A PLAY IN THREE ACTS
1912
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
SVEINUNGI, owner of the Hraun Farm.
JORUNN, his wife.
LJOT, their daughter.
EINAR, a relative of Jorunn.
JAKOBINA, an old woman.
FRIDA, a child, eleven years old.
SØLVI, a geologist.
JON }
INDRIDI }
HELGI }
RANNVEIG } Servants.
BJØRG }
THORA }
A Shepherd Boy.
_The action takes place in Iceland. Time, the Present. "Hraun" is the
Icelandic word for lava-field._
ACT I
_The farm. Five white gables, all adjoining and separated by heavy
partitions. The roof is covered with turf, the walls are of earth and
stone. The gable farthest to the left is without a door, but has two
windows on the ground floor and a smaller window above. The next has a
door leading into the "badstofa" or servants' quarters. The third is a
dairy and storehouse; the fourth, a smithy; the fifth, a drying-shed. In
the yard is a horse-block; to the left, a picket fence. Before the doors
lie the packs unloaded from nine horses: two green chests, sacks of
grain and household stuff, lumber, and a number of other articles.
Jakobina stands feeling one of the sacks. Helgi is undoing the
strappings. The door to the smithy is open. Einar is seen within,
forging horseshoe nails._
_It is morning, before breakfast._
_Jakobina (talking half to herself)._
This must be coffee. (_Lays her hand on one of the chests._) And what
has Jorunn got in these, I wonder! I fancy there are many pretty things
there.
_Helgi._
You may be sure of that.
_Jakobina._
Nineteen years I've been here now, and it's never happened yet that the
mistress has forgotten to bring something or other to please me when she
came back from town,-- and it wasn't always little things either, God
bless her! Oh, but there they have knocked off the paint. What a shame!
(_Sits down on the chest and runs her hand over the paint._)
_Enter Bjørg and Rannveig from the left, carrying pails
full of milk, which they set down._
_Rannveig._
They brought home quite a bit. We shall not go hungry for a while yet.
Where are they?
_Helgi._
They are inside, drinking coffee.
_Bjørg._
Is Jon drunk?
_Helgi._
Not so very; he's just a little gay.
_The Shepherd Boy._
Are you through milking already?
_Bjørg._
Can't you see for yourself?
_The Shepherd Boy._
Oh, pshaw! (_His eyes light on the lumber piles. He bends down and
begins to count the knots in the wood._) One, two, three--
_Enter Sveinungi from the "badstofa."_
_Sveinungi._
What do you say, girls? Quite a pack, isn't it?
_Bjørg._
I should say so!
_Sveinungi (to Helgi)._
You've begun to undo the strappings? That's fine. And here come the
others.
_Enter Jon and Indridi from the house. Jon is somewhat
intoxicated._
_Jon._
Here stands our dear master. Good day to you, Rannveig! Good day!
_Bjørg and Rannveig._
Good day, and welcome home!
_Sveinungi (laughing)._
Why don't you put your arms around the girls and give them a kiss? Are
you afraid?
_Jon._
No, Jon isn't afraid.
_Sveinungi._
You didn't get anything with your coffee. [_Runs into the house._
_Jon._
He is the same as ever.
[_Bjørg and Rannveig carry the milk into the store-house._
_Jakobina (rising)._
You didn't take notice of anything in particular on your way back?
_Indridi._
Not that I remember.
_Jakobina._
Did you see many birds?
_Indridi._
Come to think of it, I don't believe I saw any.
_Jakobina._
That's what I thought. [_Goes into the house._
_Enter Sveinungi from the house with a flask and a glass,
which he fills._
_Sveinungi._
Here, this is for you.
_Jon (drinks)._
Thanks.
_Sveinungi (fills the glass again for Indridi and Helgi)._
Won't you take a drop too, Einar?
_Einar appears in the doorway of the smithy._
_Einar._
Thank you. (_Drinks._)
_Sveinungi (sees the Shepherd Boy)._
Are you here? Why, the girls are all through milking. Do you suppose you
can keep the sheep standing in the fold all day? (_The Shepherd Boy is
about to go._) Wait a minute! I have a little thing here that I bought
for you yesterday. (_Takes a knife from his vest pocket._) I think the
blade is good iron, and that is the main thing. (_Gives him the knife.
The Shepherd Boy kisses him._) It is not much. You are welcome to it.
_The Shepherd Boy (opens the knife)._
Look, Einar, it's a regular hunting-knife. (_Closes it, runs to the
left, calling._) Snati! Pila! Snati!
_Rannveig._
You needn't call the dogs. They are up at the fold.
[_Exit the Shepherd Boy._
_Sveinungi._
That boy will amount to something in time. It's well done for one so
young to tend more than four-score sheep, and he hasn't lost one yet.
[_Takes the flask back to the house._
_Jon._
He's in mighty good humor to-day, the old man.
_Bjørg._
I should say so.
_Indridi._
Why, he got the highest price for his wool.
_Jon._
And a sorry day it would be when we didn't get that!
_Indridi._
What do you think Jakobina had in mind when she asked about the birds?
_Jon._
It's hard to tell! She has her mind on so many things.
_Enter Sveinungi and Jorunn from the house._
_Sveinungi (in the door, laughing and talking)._
I believe the girls have their eye on the green chests. Indridi, will
you carry them in? [_Indridi goes with one of the chests._
_Jorunn._
You can put them in the little room.
_Sveinungi._
Rannveig, will you bring me the key to the drying-shed? You know where
it hangs. (_Rannveig runs in._) You boys will have to carry the
breadstuffs up into the loft of the storehouse, and the coffee and sugar
too, and while I think of it, you had better take one sack out to the
mill, Helgi.
_Helgi._
I will.
_Sveinungi (opening a bag)._
Here, Einar, you'll find iron and nails and brazil-wood, and here's
something for yourself. (_Hands him a plug of tobacco._) See if you can
be a bit saving of it.
_Einar (pats him on the shoulder)._
God bless you!
[_Goes into the smithy._
_Rannveig (comes out)._
Here is the key.
_Sveinungi_ (_unlocks the door to the drying-shed_). You can stack the
timber on top of the old pile. After you have had your breakfast, you,
Jon, and Indridi had better go and lie down. You must be tired.
_Jon._
I am sure I could keep on working all day if need be, and just as hard
as those who have had their sleep. (_Indridi comes for the other
chest._)
_Sveinungi (laughs)._
There are not many like you.
_Jorunn._
Where is Ljot? I thought she was here.
_Helgi._
I saw her walking in the yard. I have not seen her come back.
_Sveinungi (goes to the picket fence; calls)._
Ljot!
_Ljot (is heard answering)._
Yes!
_Sveinungi._
Are you there? Aren't you coming home?
_Ljot (is heard answering)._
I am coming.
_Jorunn._
Have you set the milk?
_Rannveig._
Yes.
_Jorunn._
Then come in, if you want to see what I have bought.
_Einar_ (_steps out into the door of the smithy. He holds a snuff-box in
his hand, and is rolling up a long plug of tobacco, which he puts into
the box_). This tastes better; the old stuff was getting as dry as hay.
(_Spits._) Oh, well, there was a time, but that's so long ago.
_Helgi._
What are you talking about?
_Einar._
It was a winter night, and I was lying in wait for the fox. Well, what
happened was neither more nor less than this, that when I wanted to take
a chew of tobacco, I found I'd left the box at home. I can stand it for
one night, I thought, but it was cold where I was lying, and the fox
made himself scarce. Let me tell you, when I had been waiting till
nearly dawn, I'd gladly have given my soul for a good honest chew.
(_Ljot passes through from the right, carrying some freshly
gathered flowers in her hand. Goes into the house._)
_Helgi._
And did you get the fox?
_Einar._
I did. It came just as I was about to go home.
_Enter Indridi from the house._
_Jon._
When you got home, I'm sure you went straight for a good big plug of
tobacco.
_Einar._
Maybe I did! It was the finest blue fox I've ever shot.
_Enter Frida from the left. She is warm from running._
_Frida._
Now I've turned the horses out on the grass. (_Wipes her forehead._) Do
you want me to pull the bellows for you?
_Einar._
You'd better go in and see if Jorunn should happen to have something for
you. Then you can come back here. [_Frida runs in._
_Enter Bjørg and Rannveig from the house._
_Bjørg._
See what the mistress has brought for me! (_Holding up a piece of
cloth._) It will be fun to make that into an apron.
_Rannveig._
I got a head-kerchief with red flowers (_holds it up_) and a piece of
soap. (_Smells it._)
_Jon._
May I? (_Smells it._) You'll be good to kiss, when you have washed with
that soap.
_Rannveig._
Only I won't let you.
_Thora (in the doorway)._
I must show you what I got, too.
_Enter Sølvi from the left, carrying a gun over his shoulder
and a small knapsack on his back._
_Sølvi._
Good day to you!
_The Servants._
Good day!
_Indridi._
We did not see you coming.
_Sølvi._
I took the short cut. May I have something to drink? I am thirsty.
_Rannveig._
I'll get it for you.
_Sølvi (lowering his voice)._
And may I see Ljot for a moment? I have something for her.
_Rannveig._
I'll tell her. [_Exeunt Girls._
_Indridi._
Have you any news?
_Sølvi._
No.
_Indridi._
You are still at Hol?
_Sølvi._
Yes.
_Indridi._
Have they begun to cut the hay?
_Sølvi._
Not yet.
_Indridi._
They generally start before any of the other farms.
_Sølvi._
They need to. They don't keep much help.
_Enter Rannveig with the milk._
_Rannveig._
Here it is, and you are welcome to it.
_Sølvi (drinks)._
Thanks.
_Rannveig._
I have told Ljot. [_Goes in._
_Helgi._
Here, give me a hand! (_Indridi lifts the sack to Helgi's back; Helgi
carries it out to the left._)
_Jon (coiling the last ropes)._
We can start carrying the lumber into the shed.
_Enter Ljot from the house._
_Sølvi._
Good day to you, Ljot!
_Ljot._
Good day! You wished to see me?
_Sølvi._
You won't be angry with me?-- I thought perhaps you would like this.
(_Takes the skin of a duck from his knapsack._) I shot it on the creek
the other day, and I thought it was so pretty that I took off the skin
and dried it. Do you think you could make use of it-- say for a
riding-cap?
_Ljot._
It is beautiful.
_Sølvi._
When you hold the wing this way the spot is blue, and when you hold it
so it is green; it's the way the light falls.
_Ljot._
I doubt if I dare take it. I scarcely know you.
_Sølvi._
You would make me very happy if you would take it.
_Ljot._
Then I will, and thank you. (_Gives him her hand._) How lovely it is!
_Sølvi (lowering his voice)._
Do you never go for a walk by yourself in the _hraun_?
_Ljot._
Why do you ask?
_Sølvi._
You know the pretty spot by the old roan tree; it is not more than a
good ten minutes' walk from here. I thought perhaps you might go there
sometimes on Sundays.
_Ljot (blushes)._
I don't know--
_Sølvi._
I shall be there all day Sunday. Good-bye, Ljot.
_Ljot (confused)._
Good-bye.
_Sølvi._
I shall be there at sunrise, and I shall be there when the sun goes
down. [_Exit to the left._
_Enter Sveinungi, hurriedly._
_Sveinungi._
Who was it that went just now?
_Indridi._
Is he gone? It was Sølvi.
_Sveinungi._
What did he want here?
_Indridi._
He got a cup of milk.
_Sveinungi (to Ljot)._
It seemed to me he was talking to you. What have you there?
_Ljot._
He gave me a bird's skin.
_Sveinungi._
Pshaw! You should have made him keep it himself.
_Ljot._
There was no harm meant.
_Sveinungi._
Einar could have brought you down one just like it, if you had cared for
it. Why are you blushing so?
_Ljot._
I did not think you would be so angry because I took the bird's skin.
_Sveinungi._
I can't bear him, that stone-picker! He roves from place to place like a
tramp. Let him dare to set his nets for you! Give me the creature, and
I'll hand it back to him next time he comes; for he's sure to come.
_Ljot._
I can burn it myself, if you grudge me the keeping it. [_Goes in._
_Sveinungi (talking in the doorway)._
And then you get angry to boot. (_To Indridi._) I see you have undone
all the strappings.
_Indridi._
Yes.
_Sveinungi._
Where is Helgi?
_Indridi._
He went to the mill.
_Enter Helgi from the left._
_Sveinungi._
There he comes. Then you can do what I told you. [_Goes in._
_Helgi._
Anything amiss? The master seemed cross.
_Indridi._
That's nothing.
_Helgi._
Is Sølvi gone?
_Indridi._
Yes. Let's get through with this. You go into the storehouse and take
the things as I hand them to you.
[_They carry the breadstuffs into the storehouse._
_Einar appears in the door of the smithy._
_Einar._
H'm, I feel I'm getting old. There was a time when I could forge three
nails in one heating, and now it's a hard rub getting through with one.
_Indridi._
We can't be young more than once.
_Einar._
And we can't cast the slough of old age, as they could once upon a time.
_Indridi._
Would you care to?
_Einar._
I don't know. I almost think these new times are not for me.
_Enter Frida._
_Frida._
Einar, I was to call you to breakfast. (_Runs against Sveinungi, who is
coming out._)
_Sveinungi._
There, there! Why, you have brought it all under cover and the ropes in
the shed. That's fine. Now, Helgi, when you have eaten, you can go and
begin to cut turf. The others will join you when they have had their
sleep. (_Lowering his voice._) Einar, will you ask Ljot to come out?
I want to have a little talk with her.
_Einar._
I will. [_Einar and Frida go in._
(_Sveinungi locks the drying-shed and looks into the storehouse,
pretending to be very busy._)
_Enter Ljot from the house._
_Ljot._
Here I am, father.
_Sveinungi._
I did not hear you. (_Smiles._) You step as lightly as a young foal. You
are not hurt at what I said a moment ago? It was only for your own good.
I won't have any shiftless straggler around here making eyes at you. The
parish can gossip about something else. (_Ljot goes to the fence,
resting her hands on it._) But that was not what I wanted to talk to you
about. (_Goes to her._) You know Arne, the farmer at Skrida. You have
seen his son Halfdan. What do you think of him?
_Ljot._
I have seen him only a few times.
_Sveinungi._
There are two brothers. The older one is married and is going to take
the farm, but Halfdan is most like his father. You should see the way
their place is kept. Their yard is nearly as big as this, and there are
long stretches where the grass stands so high that it falls over. It's
as fine a sight as I have ever seen. We stopped there, Jorunn and I, for
a full hour, on our way back from town, and there was no lack of
welcome. Can you guess what we talked about?
_Ljot._
No.
_Sveinungi (laughs)._
You can't? Arne asked me whether I would have his son Halfdan for a
son-in-law.
_Ljot._
And what did you say?
_Sveinungi._
I said I had nothing against it-- quite the contrary. I should be
content if you had a husband like him, and we are getting old, your
mother and I. We don't know when death may strike us. It may come at any
time, and I should like to see the man who is to take my place when I am
gone.
_Ljot._
I don't think you are getting old.
_Sveinungi._
Oh, yes, I feel it. Sometimes when I want to use this or that for my
work I find that I have clean forgotten where I put it. That could never
have happened when I was young; there was not a thing that slipped my
mind. But what do you say, Ljot? Your mother thinks as I do, so it lies
solely with you whether you will accept this happiness or not.
_Ljot._
I don't think I care for that happiness.
_Sveinungi._
You should weigh your words well before you speak. Perhaps you fancy
there will be a wooer like Halfdan coming every day. But you don't mean
that; you only mean that he must come and speak for himself.
_Ljot._
I am so young, father.
_Sveinungi._
You are past nineteen. There are many girls who marry at seventeen, and
you have been so well taught that you can readily take your place at the
head of a household. I need not be ashamed of you there, that's sure.
And you will have your mother near you, for it is understood, of course,
that you and Halfdan stay here with us. You will have your bridal now in
the fall, and next spring you can take over the farm.
_Ljot._
But I scarcely know him at all!
_Sveinungi._
Your mother did not know me, and I can't see but that we two have lived
happily together all these years. It is not always those who marry for
what they call love who are happiest. Arne and I are friends from old
times, and I have as good as given him my word.
_Enter Jorunn from the house._
_Ljot (straightening herself)._
You should not have done that without speaking to me.
_Sveinungi._
What has come over you? Do you mean to go right against the will of your
parents? I can tell you one thing, if it is this tramp you are thinking
of, it shall never come to pass. Not as long as I live. [_Goes in._
_Jorunn._
Your father was angry. What were you talking about?
_Ljot._
He wants me to marry a man I don't know.
_Jorunn._
Does he? You cannot say of Halfdan that he is a man you don't know.
_Ljot._
We have never spoken a word to each other.
_Jorunn._
Yet he has been here several times. Once he stayed overnight. Besides
you have heard him spoken of, and you know his people. Everybody knows
the Hofstad people.
_Ljot._
Father has given his word without asking me. He had no right to do that.
_Jorunn._
You have worked yourself up, Ljot. I don't understand you. Can it really
be that you have promised yourself to some one without letting your
parents know it?
_Ljot._
I have not.
_Jorunn._
You need not hide anything from me. If you have given your word, you
must keep it.
_Ljot._
I told you that I have not.
_Jorunn._
You could not tell your old mother a falsehood! But if you are free and
not bound by any promise, this puzzles me. Halfdan is young and a
capable man, and his father is one of the richest and most respected
farmers in the countryside.
_Ljot._
But I don't care for him. You can't mean that I should marry a man I
don't care for. (_Leans over the fence._)
_Jorunn._
Once you are married you will come to care for him. (_Goes to her._) It
is a great step you are about to take. Weigh your words well, so that
you may not rue them. Be careful not to thrust away happiness when she
reaches out her hand to you, or there may come a day when you will
repent. You must know that your parents wish nothing but what is good
for you.
_Ljot (with tears in her voice)._
It seems to me you are against me, both you and father.
_Jorunn (stroking her hair)._
I believe you are hiding something from your mother. I think I know what
it is. You were very much pleased with the bird's skin you got to-day.
(_Ljot is silent._) The winter your father asked me in marriage there
came to my home a man who used to go from farm to farm doing odd
carpenter jobs. One evening I carried his coffee to him where he was at
work. He had a big chest standing there that he kept his tools in. I can
remember it plainly; it was yellow. I stood waiting for him to finish
his coffee so that I could take the cup back, when he took out of the
chest a work-box-- the prettiest thing I've ever seen. It was of dark
brown wood, the lid round, with pictures of animals carved on it. He
made me a present of it, and when I was about to go, he asked me for a
kiss, but I would not give it to him.
_Ljot._
You never told me about this.
_Jorunn._
He was a good-looking man, with big brown eyes. Well, when your father
came, my father and mother both wanted me to become his wife. It was not
altogether easy for me, but I would not go against their wishes.
I thought it my duty to please them, and besides the other man had never
asked me straight out.
_Ljot._
But he was the one you cared for.
_Jorunn._
Perhaps I thought so at the time. (_Silence._) He went away on the night
he heard that I was promised to your father. A year after I married your
father, he was drowned-- some thought he had taken his own life.
_Ljot._
Maybe that was your doing.
_Jorunn._
How can you say such a thing to your mother!
_Ljot._
Don't be angry with me, mother.
_Jorunn._
A man who cannot bear his fate is not worth much. I should not have been
happy as his wife, and I could not wish for a better man than your
father. When two people live together a whole lifetime and have an
honest will to do what is right by each other, they will come to care
for each other, as the years go by. (_Silence._) I have told you this so
that you may think it over, but if you feel in your own heart that it is
right to go against the wishes of your parents, then you will have to do
so. (_Ljot is silent._) You say nothing, my child? I have tried as best
I could, in my poor way, to do what seemed my duty. I cannot give my
daughter any other or better advice. When the hour of sorrow comes, as
it must come to you too, there is nothing else that can bring you peace.
_Ljot._
I will do as you wish.
_Jorunn._
I always knew that I had a good daughter. (_Strokes her hair._) How glad
your father will be! This will be a great day for him, and you will
never regret that you did as your parents wished. [_Goes in._
(_Ljot stands alone._)
_Enter Einar and Frida from the house._
_Einar (to Frida)._
You can start the bellows. I hope the fire has not gone out. [_They
go into the smithy._
_Enter Helgi from the house. He goes into the smithy and
comes out again with a turf-spade in his hand._
_Einar (in the door)._
Shall you be home for dinner?
_Helgi._
No, the others will bring it to me. [_Exit to the left._
_Enter Sveinungi._
_Sveinungi._
Are you here? Won't you come in and talk to your father? (_Patting her
shoulder._) This is the happiest day in my life since the time I got
your mother. [_They go in._
_Enter Jakobina with a plate of chicken-feed in her hand;
goes to the door of the smithy._
_Jakobina._
Is Frida there? Can you spare her while she runs over to the chickens
for me with their food?
_Einar._
Yes, indeed. [_Frida goes with the chicken-feed._
_Jakobina_ (_sits down on the horse-block_). I had such a queer dream
last night. I thought I was standing out there in the yard, and I saw a
giant come striding across the _hraun_. I saw him stop right there-- he
stood with arms stretched out and bent down over the house.
ACT II
_A grass-grown yard, some rocks partly sunk in the ground. In the
foreground, farthest to the right, a tent. In the background, to the
left, the farm-house. In the outskirts of the yard a sheep-house with
the roof and part of the walls in ruins. Beyond it, the "hraun,"
a lava-field stretching for miles, studded with jutting rocks and lava
formations._
_It is evening of the same day._
_The Servants_ (_seated, singing_).
God the power unending
Rests with Thee alone.
Cherubim are bending,
Low before Thy throne.
From Thy Heaven hear me!
Weak and soiled am I,
Wounds and sorrows sear me,
Fainting I draw nigh.
Is there then another way?
Sorrow's rising hills may they
Not reach up to heaven, pray?
Help me-- lest I die.
(_They cover their eyes in prayer. Silence._)
_Jorunn (uncovers her eyes)._
The peace of God be with us.
(_The Servants rise and shake hands._)
_Jorunn_ (_patting Frida's cheek_). Now you must not be afraid of the
earthquake any more. When we trust in Him, no harm can befall us.
(_Gathers the hymn-books._) Please take the books back to the tent,
Ljot; it's a little too early yet to go in. (_Ljot goes with the
books._) And you may fetch the shoes I was sewing. I left them in there.
(_Some sit on the rocks, others squat in the grass. Only
Sveinungi remains standing._)
_Ljot (coming from the tent)._
Here are the shoes, mother.
_Jorunn._
Thank you, daughter.
(_Ljot lies down in the grass, gazing out over the "hraun."_)
_Indridi._
Did you hear the church-bells ringing?
_Einar._
I did not hear them.
_Jorunn._
I did. They rang of themselves.
(_Silence._)
_Indridi._
Where were you, Thora, when the shock came?
_Thora._
In the kitchen.
_Indridi._
It's your week, isn't it?
_Thora._
I don't know how I ever got out, for the whole floor heaved under me,
so that I was thrown right against the wall, and you should have seen me
when I came out-- all black from the falling soot.
_Jon._
And the rest of you-- where were you?
_Bjørg._
We were sitting in the _badstofa_, sorting wool.
_Rannveig._
It felt as if some one was shaking the roof and trying to pull up the
whole house.
_Indridi._
We were just about to leave our work and run home to hear how you had
fared, but then I thought they would be sure to send us word (_looking
askance at Sveinungi_) if anything had happened. Besides, we wanted to
get enough turf cut while we were at it so that we should not have to go
back another time.
_Jon._
But I must say that when I began working again, it went against me. It
was like cutting into a living thing-- like skinning a live animal.
_Rannveig._
Ugh, yes.
_Jon._
And the place where we'd cut turf last year looked like an ugly scar.
(_Silence._)
_Jorunn._
Did you meet anybody when you came home from work?
_Indridi._
No.
_Jorunn._
And no outsider has been here this afternoon. They don't come when they
are wanted. I ought to have sent one of you to the next farm to find out
how things were there, anyway.
_Jon._
I can easily go yet, if mistress wants me to.
_Jorunn._
Oh, no, it's getting late. I hope we shall have no bad tidings from any
one.
_Indridi._
I hope so, too.
_Jon._
I'm afraid the Vik farm-house has fallen. It is both old and poorly
built-- nothing like ours.
(_Silence._)
_Einar._
You should have seen the hawks, Jorunn, right after the shock. They kept
flying back and forth, just as they do when they're warding off a foe
from their nest.
_Jorunn._
They were frightened.
_Einar._
And no wonder. Great pieces of rock came tumbling down into the creek.
The sheep out on the heath yonder huddled together in flocks, looking
like old snow.
_Jon._
Then you were out hunting.
_Einar._
No, I was not hunting. I was looking at the hawks, wondering whether one
could get at them by going down in a rope.
(_Silence._)
_Jorunn._
What about the boy, Sveinungi? Do you mean to let him stay with the
sheep all night?
_Sveinungi._
Certainly. He can sleep to-morrow.
_Jorunn._
I was only thinking he might be afraid to be alone.
_Sveinungi._
He's no more afraid than grown people.
_Jorunn._
I saw he took both the dogs with him.
(_Silence._)
_Helgi._
There was a man walking across the _hraun_ a little while ago. Who can
it be?
_Indridi._
I saw him too.
_Jon._
It was Sølvi. He carried his gun.
(_Silence._)
_Ljot._
How still it is on the _hraun_.
_Einar._
I thought you were listening for something, while you lay there quiet as
a mouse. I thought you were listening for the earthquake.
_Frida._
Can one hear the earthquake when it is coming?
_Rannveig._
Are you afraid? Yes, sometimes it can be heard a little before the
shock. They say it sounds like the clatter of hoofs from many hundred
horses.
_Bjørg._
To me it sounded like the whistling of the wind.
_Jorunn._
You should sit down, Sveinungi. You'll get tired standing.
_Sveinungi._
I am not tired.
(_Silence._)
_Frida._
What if the earth should open up right here where we are sitting?
_Rannveig._
It won't. Who told you that it might?
_Frida._
Jakobina said so.
_Rannveig._
You must not listen to all she says; she talks so much.
_Jakobina._
I say nothing but what is true. At the time of the last great earthquake
the ground cracked and made a fissure many miles long; I saw it myself.
The earth opened her mouth to breathe.
_Einar (to Frida)._
Don't be afraid. I have a black lamb-- do you remember it?-- with white
feet. When I get it home in the fall, I will give it to you.
_Jakobina_ (_facing the "hraun"_). Not one of you knows the _hraun_ as I
do. Can you tell me why the hollows out there are never filled with
snow? Have you ever seen the snow falling fast enough to cover even the
rims around them? It's the earth blowing her breath against it. The
earth sets traps for men; the earth is a man-eater.
_Jorunn (to Jakobina)._
You must not frighten the child.
(_Silence._)
_Sveinungi._
Wasn't it you, Jakobina, who said that sometimes blood comes on the
window-panes? It bodes ill, they say.
_Jakobina._
Why do you ask? There is no one here who has seen it, is there?
_Sveinungi._
Never mind why I ask.
_Jakobina._
Well, if I must say it, it is a sign that some one in the house is going
to die soon.
_Sveinungi._
Or it might bode ill to the farm itself, maybe.
_Jakobina._
What do you mean?
_Sveinungi._
That it might be doomed.
_Jorunn._
Indeed, it means neither the one nor the other. It's nothing but a silly
old superstition.
_Sveinungi._
Not that I believe in it, but look at the windows. Don't they look as if
they were wet with blood?
_Jorunn._
It's the sun shining on them.
_Sveinungi._
And see the gables, how white they are. They don't look whiter from the
fields down yonder when you spread a cloth over them to call me home.
_Indridi (lowering his voice)._
Did you see the sheep-cot fall?
_Thora._
Yes, it happened just as we came out.
_Indridi._
What did Sveinungi say?
_Thora._
He said nothing.
_Indridi._
But he told us to move out here.
_Thora._
No, it was Jorunn who made us do it.
_Sveinungi (to Jorunn)._
I did not tell you that when I came into the _badstofa_, right after the
shock, our old clock had stopped running.
_Jorunn._
Was it broken?
_Sveinungi._
No, when I touched the pendulum it started again, but the place was
still as death when I entered. The grass on the roof cast a shadow over
the skylight. It was as quiet as when my father lay dead.
_Jorunn._
I think we had better go and lie down. There's nothing gained by staying
here any longer.
_Sveinungi._
I can't see that there was any need of moving out, but you had your way,
Jorunn.
_Jorunn._
I feel sure that they have done the same on all the other farms. We must
be thankful it is summer, so that we can stay outdoors.
_Sveinungi._
Must we be thankful? So you give thanks that my work is ruined.
_Jorunn._
We must take what comes, whether good or evil, and trouble may help us
to remember all the things we have neglected to give thanks for.
_Sveinungi._
I don't know but that I have always done my duty. I have built all the
sheep-cots; I have fenced in the land and looked after it as best I
could. I demand justice of Him up there.
_Jorunn (rising)._
I won't listen to such talk. Did you buy the land from Him, perhaps? And
what did you have to pay with that was not His already?
_Sveinungi._
You needn't mock me. You can walk all over the yard and cut your handful
of grass with your scissors wherever you like; it grows thick as wool
everywhere, and it's all my work.
_Jorunn._
Was it you who ruled the _hraun_ for thousands of years so that it did
not swallow up the bit of ground you are standing on, which you call
yours? [_Goes into the tent._
_Sveinungi._
Which I call mine! (_Stamping his foot._) It is mine! I've bought the
land from Him up there with my work.
(_The Servants rise._)
_Jon._
I believe the worst is over and that we shall be let off with the
fright.
_Indridi._
I hope so.
_Bjørg._
You can never tell. Remember what happened the time when more than
three-score farm-houses fell in one night.
_Thora._
It must have been dreadful.
_Sveinungi._
Now you must all go into the tent.
[_The Servants go in._
_Jakobina._
I shouldn't wonder if something dreadful were to happen to the farm.
[_Goes into the tent._
(_Sveinungi stands quite still a little while, then walks
a few steps, pauses, takes a few more steps, and again stops._)
_Enter Ljot from the tent._
_Ljot._
Are you not coming, father? Mother told me to ask you to come in.
_Sveinungi._
Why doesn't she lie down? She need not wait for me.
_Ljot._
We are so frightened, father-- all of us.
_Enter Jorunn from the tent._
_Jorunn._
It's getting cold.
_Ljot._
Yes, it is cold.
_Jorunn._
The sun has set.
_Sveinungi._
Why are you coming out again, Jorunn? Can't you sleep?
_Jorunn._
No, I can't sleep.
_Sveinungi._
Do you remember the night you thought I was lost in the snowstorm?
A light was burning in the upper window. To see it was better than
meeting a human being, and when the dogs began to bark behind the door,
it was just as if the house itself were speaking-- calling out its joy.
It sounded better to me than a human voice, and when I stepped into the
hall, the darkness seemed to put its arms around me. Never have I had so
sweet a welcome, not even when my daughter was a little child.
_Jorunn._
Ought we not to go in, Sveinungi? It's getting late. You too must go in
now, Ljot.
_Ljot._
I am only waiting for father.
_Jorunn._
Do you hear that, Sveinungi? Ljot is waiting for you, and the servants
can't sleep either before you go in.
_Sveinungi._
I am not going to stay in the tent to-night. I am going home.
_Jorunn._
You don't mean that!
_Ljot._
But, father dear!
_Sveinungi._
I won't let any foolish fear drive me out of my house, and it is nothing
but a foolish fear. The earthquake will not come so suddenly but that I
shall have time to get out. It's impossible. Besides, the _badstofa_
will hold. It's well built, though it's old.
_Jorunn._
Do you think the _badstofa_ will hold if there should come a big
earthquake? You cannot mean that!
_Sveinungi._
It is not at all sure there will be another shock. It's only a fancy
that the earthquake must needs keep on once it has begun. I believe it
is over; I feel it. (_During the last speeches the Servants have been
coming out of the tent._) What are you running out for? Go in, all of
you.
_Jakobina._
I must tell master about the dream I had. It was last night. I thought I
was standing out in the yard and saw a giant coming across the _hraun_.
He walked with long, unsteady strides (_she takes a few steps forward;
her voice sounds distant and threatening_), and seemed to grope as if he
were blind. Then I saw him standing right by the house-- with arms
stretched out; he bent down over the farm and stood there like a stone
cross. (_Makes the sign of the cross with her arms._)
_Sveinungi._
Did I ask you to tell me about your dream?
_Jorunn._
I beg of you, Sveinungi, that you do not stay at the house to-night.
It would be tempting God.
_Sveinungi._
It's rather He who is tempting me. If I ran away, it would serve me
right to have the house fall down. (_Pointing to the house._) There it
has stood waiting for me every evening as far back as I can remember.
I have seen the windows flaming in the sun. I have seen them wet with
rain. I have seen them white with frost. I've been with it ever since I
was a child. I have climbed on the roof as I climbed on my father's
shoulders. When I stood on the ridge, it seemed it had lifted me up to
let me see better. No, Jorunn, even if I knew the earthquake to be
coming, I should go home. Nor is it any wonder that I long to get into
my own bed. I am old now, and I have waked up there almost every morning
of my life. I have gone to bed so tired and worn that I could barely
stand on my feet and have waked up young and strong. I have been ill and
have lain there watching the sunbeams flitting across the floor.
[_Sveinungi walks homeward._
_Jorunn._
Are you going home? (_Following him hurriedly._) Whatever happens, your
fate shall be mine.
_Sveinungi (stops and looks back)._
Do you hear that? She is not afraid, my wife.
[_Sveinungi and Jorunn walk homeward._
_Ljot._
How can you do it, father? (_Walks a few steps away from the others and
remains standing there._)
_Jakobina._
God be with you, Jorunn, and with you, Sveinungi. You have been good to
me, these nineteen years. [_Goes into the tent._
(_Silence._)
_Helgi._
There, they went in.
_Bjørg._
Yes, they are in there now.
_Jon._
I think we had better go and lie down, since there is nothing we can do.
_Indridi._
No, we can do nothing.
_Thora._
It will be a long night.
_Rannveig._
Poor Ljot!
[_The Servants walk slowly into the tent._
(_Einar and Ljot remain. Silence._)
_Einar (goes to Ljot)._
I wish I could make you happy as easily now as when you were a little
girl.
_Ljot (struggling with her tears)._
Father does not care for me at all. He does not think of me for a
moment.
_Einar._
Your father cares for you, no doubt of that, but he is beside himself
with the earthquake.
_Ljot._
You don't know what I am talking about. (_In sudden fear._) If only
something dreadful does not happen!
_Einar._
We must trust to the Lord to keep us all. Won't you too try to lie down?
_Ljot._
I can't sleep.
_Einar._
Perhaps you would rather stay here a little while. Let me bring a shawl
for you; it is getting cold. [_Goes into the tent._
(_Ljot stands motionless looking out over the "hraun."_)
_Einar (coming from the tent)._
They are asleep in there already. Won't you put the shawl around your
shoulders?
_Ljot._
I am not cold.
_Einar._
Then I'll spread it over one of the rocks for you to sit on. They are
wet with dew. (_Spreads it over the stone._) There! What did you have in
mind when you stood there looking out over the _hraun_?
_Ljot._
I was thinking of an old tale Jakobina once told me. It was about a
young girl. She went out on the _hraun_ with bare feet to meet her
sweetheart, and wherever she stepped the moss grew under her foot.
_Einar._
That's a pretty story. I can tell you one too, if you care to hear it.
It might help to quiet you a little.
_Ljot (takes his hand)._
You are so good.
_Einar (sits down; relates)._
In olden times, they say, there was an underground stream that ran
straight through the country from south to north and was meant as a
sign of truce between land and sea. It happened that a cross-eyed,
ill-natured shark was trying to tempt a young whale to swim that stream
from end to end. The whale's name was Spray-tail. He was the handsomest
of all the young whales and could shoot three jets of water at once. The
shark boasted that he had swum through the stream himself, but of course
it was only real fishes that could do it. Spray-tail felt stung on
behalf of his kin, and as the shark had told him that there were
openings here and there in the roof of this underground way, he made up
his mind to try his luck, trusting that he could hold his breath from
one opening to another. But it fell out otherwise. Spray-tail never came
back. The last ever heard of him was that some swans, in their flight
over the hills, had seen a jet of blood spurting out of the ground.
The whales were in a rage and, as they thought in their grief that the
land had broken truce, they goaded the sea to wreak vengeance upon it.
Are you listening?
(_Ljot nods her head._)
One night a dreadful storm broke. The sea came rushing in over the land,
fell upon the rocks like a monster, and tore them to pieces. The next
morning thousands of sea fowls' nests were wrecked, and where green
fields had been there were black sands. Now there was sore need of wise
counsel. A shrewd old raven said that the fire should be roused. All the
birds agreed that the raven had spoken well, but none dared do the deed.
The raven was made judge, and decided that the spider should undertake
the ticklish task, and that the eagle should carry her to the crater.
They gave the spider ten fat blue-flies to take with her. She spun
herself well and firmly under some strong feathers, and off they went.
They flew over deep dales, over dreary wastes, and over glaciers. In the
evening they came to the fire-mountain, and there they rested overnight,
but they did not sleep much, for the fire was snoring like a giant down
below in the earth. Early the next morning the eagle flew to the top of
the mountain. The spider made fast her thread and spun herself slowly
down into the crater. It was dark down there, and the heat and sulphur
made her eyes smart, but she could see enough to make out that the fire
lay sleeping under a very thin black coverlet. The spider knew nothing
but the finger-language, and she moved her legs incessantly, telling
fully and truly all about the havoc that was wrought, and urging the
fire to come to the rescue lest the whole land be swallowed up by the
sea. Yet the fire did not stir. Then the spider bent her legs up under
her and let herself fall all the way down to the fire. She stretched out
one leg and poked the black coverlet. From that moment she couldn't
remember anything till she was lying at the rim of the crater again. She
peeped down and saw that the fire had thrown off the coverlet and was
red and blazing. Then the spider understood that her task was done.
Everybody knows how the fire had its reckoning with the sea and filled
up whole fjords with lava and ashes.
(_Sølvi is seen approaching from the "hraun."_)
_Ljot (rising)._
You must tell me that story over again some time. I could not listen
rightly.
_Einar (rising)._
Who is that coming so late? (_Looking._) Now I know him; it's Sølvi.
_Ljot._
I saw him a while ago walking over the _hraun_.
_Einar._
He may bring us news.
_Enter Sølvi carrying a gun and with a game-bag on his back._
_Sølvi._
Good evening.
_Einar._
Good evening.
_Sølvi._
How good it seems to meet people! You have moved out, of course?
_Einar._
You are walking late.
_Sølvi._
You will have to take the earthquake as my excuse. This has been a bad
day. What has happened here at your place?
_Einar._
One of the outbuildings came down and a part of the yard-fence.
_Sølvi._
At Hol one wall of the house fell. The folks barely got out. (_Lays down
his gun._)
_Einar._
Was anybody hurt?
_Sølvi._
No. I could not stay there any longer. I saw your house standing, and
that was a relief. (_Looking at Ljot._) Yet I had to come.
_Einar._
What do you think? Do you believe the earthquake is over?
(_Sølvi fails to answer; looks at Ljot._)
_Ljot._
My father and mother are sleeping in the house.
_Sølvi._
Why in the world are they doing that!
_Ljot._
We were ready to go to bed, but father would not come into the tent.
Mother begged him to stay, but it was no use, and when father went back
to the house, mother went with him.
_Sølvi._
But the buildings may fall at any moment if there should be another
shock.
_Einar._
Sveinungi knows that as well as we do, but he would not let the house
stand forsaken.
_Sølvi._
We must hope that no harm will come to them. So that is why you are
still up. Have the others been in bed long?
_Ljot._
No, they went in a little while ago.
_Einar._
May I look at your gun?
_Sølvi._
As much as you like.
_Einar._
Is it loaded?
_Sølvi._
It is. (_To Ljot._) You are not angry with me for coming so late? It
seemed an eternity till Sunday.
_Ljot._
I knew you would come.
_Sølvi._
You knew it! Won't you sit down? I have something to show you. (_Ljot
sits down. Sølvi opens the game-bag; takes from it a large fern._)
I found this out on the _hraun_. Is it not beautiful? (_Sits down._)
Look, the stem is no thicker than a hair, while the leaf can easily hide
your whole face. (_Holds it up before her face._) It trembles when your
breath touches it.
_Ljot._
You have pulled it up by the roots. May I have the moss that came with
it? (_Sølvi loosens the moss from the roots. Ljot lays it in her hand;
smiles._) When it withers, I'll keep it in my shoes.
_Sølvi._
Will you keep it in your shoes? See these two small ferns on one root.
They look like two slim hands. (_Looks at Ljot._)
_Einar (puts the gun aside)._
It's a fine one. It must have cost a good deal. Perhaps you bought it
yourself abroad?
_Sølvi._
I did. (_Lays down the fern. To Ljot._) If you have time, you can plant
it to-morrow. It won't hurt it to lie overnight in the wet grass.
_Einar (goes to Sølvi)._
How long were you abroad?
_Sølvi._
Seven years.
_Einar._
That's a long time. (_Sits down._)
_Ljot._
My father was angry with me for keeping your bird's skin.
_Sølvi._
Was he? And I was thinking of asking you to visit me at Hol some time
before I leave.
_Ljot._
I hardly think I dare to.
_Sølvi._
You could take Einar with you. It is not much more than an hour's ride,
and I have a number of things I should like to show you,-- petrified
tree-trunks that I have dug out of the earth, in which you can see
plainly every bud and shoot, and stone slabs with impressions of flowers
and leaves that lived thousands of years ago. Should you like to see
them?
_Ljot._
I should like it ever so much.
_Sølvi._
I have some rocks, too, baked by fire and furrowed by ice. If you knew
all the tales they tell me! They lay bare to me things that are hidden
from every one else.
(_A whirring of wings is heard far away._)
_Einar (stands up, pointing with his finger)._
Look, there is a flock of ducks flying over the _hraun_. (_Stands
gazing._)
_Sølvi (in a low voice)._
It made me so happy to see you. This evening, when the sun was setting,
I reached out toward it. I did the same when I saw you.
_Einar._
They're flying unusually low. There they alight-- I'll get my gun.
_Sølvi (rising)._
I'll lend you mine. (_Hands him the gun._) It will carry a distance of a
hundred and thirty feet.
_Einar._
What size shot have you?
_Sølvi._
Duck-shot.
_Einar._
Ljot, you don't mind, do you? I shall not be gone long. If they rise,
I'm not going after them. [_Exit._
(_Ljot rises._)
_Sølvi (goes to her)._
My star must be in the heavens to-night.
_Ljot._
You must not think that I was sitting up so late because I was waiting
for you-- I saw you walking over the _hraun_-- but we shan't talk about
that.
_Sølvi._
Shall I tell you why I came home from abroad? It was for your sake.
_Ljot (sits down)._
That is not true.
_Sølvi (sits down)._
One night, the last winter I was away, I must have been dreaming, but it
seemed to me that I was awake. I had come back home and was walking on
the _hraun_. The _hraun_ was covered with ashes. As I walked, I suddenly
fell into a deep cleft and kept on falling and falling. At last I found
myself lying on the bottom, unable to stir. Death came and sucked the
life out of my eyes and held it in her hand like a tiny flame. Suddenly
a woman stood beside me dressed in moss. She pleaded for me so long that
death gave her my life. She looked like you. It was you. Don't you know
that you hold my life in your hands?
(_They rise._)
_Ljot._
I think I shall go in. It is hard to tell when Einar will be back. When
he is out hunting he forgets everything.
_Sølvi._
I love you, Ljot! You have not been out of my thoughts since the first
time I saw you. Everything reminds me of you-- the sun, the sky--
_Ljot._
I too have been happy in seeing you and talking with you. (_Stands still
as death._) This morning, right after you had gone, my father told me
that on his way home from town he had seen his old friend,-- and my
father wanted me to promise myself to the son of his old friend, but I
would not, because I was thinking of you. Then my mother came and talked
to me-- and I gave in. I could not do anything else.
_Sølvi._
Why did I not speak before! You won't feel hurt at what I say, Ljot? You
must not let your parents decide your life. That is for you to do.
_Ljot._
You don't know my father. If he thought I was standing here talking to
you, I can't tell what he would do.
_Sølvi._
I am convinced your parents have but one wish, and that is for your
happiness.
_Ljot._
I don't know. My mother does not say much about happiness; she does her
duty-- and I know mine. (_Turns toward the tent._)
_Sølvi._
Are you going?
_Ljot._
It is better that we two should not meet again-- it would only cause us
suffering. (_Moves away._)
_Sølvi (following her)._
You don't realize what you are about to do! You will be committing a
terrible crime-- against all the wonderful days that life meant us two
to have together. For you do care for me, Ljot, don't you? (_Ljot is
silent._) I thought you cared for me. When you spoke to me this morning
you blushed, and I thought it was your heart that gave me its promise.
The joy of it overwhelmed me.
_Ljot._
It matters little whom I care for. I have given my word.
_Sølvi._
You think it is your duty to keep your word, but there is another duty
that is far greater, and that is to open your arms to happiness when it
comes. There is no greater duty. It is the meaning of our existence. You
must feel that, you who have grown like a flower out of the earth!
_Ljot._
It is not only that I have given my word. If I had neither father nor
mother, I should break my promise, but I know that it would grieve my
parents. This morning father said to me that it was the happiest day of
his life since he got my mother, and I know it was true.
_Sølvi._
You must tell your parents that you cannot keep your word. You must do
it for my sake. (_Kneeling._) You are the only one I care for in all the
world.
_Ljot._
I can't deal such a blow to my father. No other living being has been so
good to me as my father.
_Sølvi (rising)._
You do not care for me at all.
_Ljot._
You think it is easy for me! (_With tears in her eyes._) I own a
spring-- I cleanse it every Saturday. I have told it your name. (_Goes
to the tent._)
_Sølvi._
You are going! (_Turns away from Ljot, sits down on one of the rocks,
covers his face._)
_Ljot (stands silent for a long time, then goes over to him and takes
his hands from his face)._
I love you.
(_Sølvi takes her face between his hands and kisses her._)
_Enter Jakobina._
_Jakobina (coming slowly from the tent)._
We are not all asleep in there.
(_Sølvi and Ljot rise._)
_Sølvi (holding Ljot by the hand)._
Let us go out on the _hraun_ and look for Einar.
_Ljot_ (_runs to Jakobina, puts her arms around Jakobina's neck and
holds her close_). I know that you care for me. (_Goes to Sølvi and
takes his hand._) Come!
[_They go toward the "hraun."_
(_Jakobina stands still, following them with her eyes, then
shakes her head and turns toward the tent._)
ACT III
_The farm-house is in ruins. Only the farther side of the "badstofa" is
standing. It looks like a dark cavern. The servants have gathered near
the wreckage; they are bare-headed, the men in their shirt-sleeves.
Sveinungi is standing near the dark opening._
_It is night._
_Sveinungi (to Jon)._
You dare not go in.
_Jon (peering into the gloom)._
I don't know. There's only one post that holds the roof, and it may snap
at any moment.
_Sveinungi._
It won't. It is drift-timber, which never rots.
_Jon._
And besides, it stands aslant; the slightest push would make it go with
a crash, and there would be no getting out alive if the heavy roof came
down.
_Sveinungi._
You are afraid. Is there anybody else who dares?
_Jorunn._
You cannot ask any man to go in there.
_Sveinungi (to Jon)._
It would take you but a moment to bring out those few things. There's my
tall chest-- you know where it stands-- and my old clock; you can
unscrew it from the wall with your knife.
_Jon._
I am not going in there.
_Sveinungi._
Get drunk and brag-- that you know how to do, all of you. (_Starts into
the ruins._)
_Jon._
Is master going in there?
_Sveinungi._
Do you think I will let my things be ruined, because you are a coward?
_Jon._
Then I will go with you. It's easier for two.
[_Sveinungi and Jon disappear from view._
_Jorunn._
No matter what happens to that man, he will never learn to bend. (_Goes
to the ruins; looks in._) Can you see anything in there? Is it not too
dark?
(_Silence._)
_Sveinungi and Jon appear, carrying the tall chest._
_Sveinungi._
Indridi and you, Helgi, come here and take it from us. Set it over
there.
[_Sveinungi and Jon disappear again._
_Indridi (to Jorunn, as the men carry the chest out into the open)._
Can we leave it here?
_Jorunn._
Yes. (_She peers into the ruins again._)
_Enter Jakobina from the direction of the tent._
_Jakobina_ (_goes to Jorunn, lays her hand on Jorunn's shoulder_).
I must feel that you are indeed safe and sound. (_Stroking her arm._)
When you went home, I was afraid that you would never come out of that
house again. I thought your husband must be struck with blindness.
_Jorunn._
You don't know where Einar and Ljot have gone?
_Jakobina._
I saw Ljot going out on the _hraun_.
_Sveinungi and Jon appear, carrying the clock._
_Sveinungi._
You will have to be a little careful, the glass is broken. (_Steps out
into the open. To Jon._) I dare say you have had enough of this.
_Jon._
I can't say it was any too cheerful in there.
_Sveinungi (to the men)._
You can carry the clock into the tent; the dampness here might be bad
for it. And you, Bjørg, go and get a blanket to spread over the chest.
[_Exeunt Servants, Bjørn running, Indridi and Helgi carrying
the clock, Jakobina following them._
_Jorunn._
You are lucky, Sveinungi, that you have not come to grief with your
foolhardiness.
_Sveinungi._
It is nothing but my duty to care as best I can for what is mine. I have
risked my life before in a good deal worse dangers than this. But I must
send some one to look after the boy. He may have lost all the sheep.
Will you go, Jon?
_Jon._
I will.
_Sveinungi._
You had better drive the sheep home.
_Jorunn._
And if you should see Ljot and Einar, tell them to hurry.
_Jon._
I will. [_Exit._
_Sveinungi._
Where are they?
_Jorunn._
They are out on the _hraun_.
_Enter Bjørg, carrying a blanket._
_Bjørg._
Here is the blanket.
_Sveinungi._
Why did they go out there? (_Takes the blanket, goes to the chest, and
runs his hand over it._) Here it's been bruised. (_Throws the blanket
over it._) I did not think you would have all this to go through.
(_Takes a long breath._) It is pretty hard when one has grown as old as
I am to see one's work destroyed.
_Jorunn._
That is true.
_Sveinungi._
My only comfort is that I shall have a capable man to help me put up the
buildings again. (_Gazing over the "hraun."_) What can it be that is
keeping Ljot out there? Has she been gone long?
_Rannveig._
I don't know.
_Sveinungi._
I hope she has not gone down into one of the fissures. One can't tell
what may happen. The walls might cave in, or they might close overhead.
_Enter Indridi from the direction of the tent._
_Indridi._
Einar and Ljot are coming now. We could see them from the tent.
_Sveinungi._
Are they coming? (_Goes toward the background._) Yes, Ljot has seen us;
she is running.
_Jorunn._
She must have thought we were buried under the ruins.
_Sveinungi (looking)._
There is a third person with them. Who can it be?
_Rannveig._
So there is.
_Indridi._
I believe it's Sølvi.
_Sveinungi._
What business has he out there at night?
_Indridi._
It's hard to tell!
_Sveinungi._
I do hope that Ljot has not been talking to that fellow.
_Enter Helgi from the direction of the tent._
(_Silence._)
_Enter Ljot, running._
_Ljot (puts her arms around her mother)._
I was so frightened!
_Jorunn._
Were you frightened? You are quite out of breath with running.
_Sveinungi (smiling)._
And have you no greeting for your father?
_Ljot._
Dear, dear father! (_Embraces him._)
_Sveinungi._
You were glad when you saw us?
_Ljot._
I was so glad that I don't know yet what I am saying. I was afraid you
had been caught under the ruins. I thought that was to be my punishment.
_Sveinungi (stroking her hair)._
Have you done anything you should be punished for?
_Ljot (taking his hand)._
Be fond of me, father! Be very, very fond of me!
_Enter Einar and Sølvi._
_Einar._
Thank God, you are safe! Then you had time to get out?
_Jorunn._
No, we were in there.
_Ljot._
Were you in there? (_Goes to the ruins._) How weird it looks!
_Sveinungi (goes to the ruins)._
It is only the one post that holds it all. If that had snapped, you
would never have laid eyes on us again.
_Einar (looks into the ruins)._
It's a miracle it didn't break.
_Jorunn._
Yes, if it had not been God's will, we should not be here now.
_Einar (turns from the ruins)._
It was not any too cheerful out on the _hraun_ either. The place seemed
suddenly to have become alive.
_Sveinungi._
What in the world made you go out there?
_Einar._
There was a flock of ducks flying over the _hraun_, and I wanted to try
a shot at them.
_Sveinungi (to Ljot)._
And why did you go with him?
_Ljot._
I was not with him. Sølvi and I stayed behind.
_Sveinungi._
Do you sit alone with a stranger in the middle of the night? (_To
Sølvi._) And you, why are you here at this time? I will not have you go
hunting on my land without asking my leave.
_Sølvi._
I was not hunting on your land.
_Sveinungi._
But you are picking up stones, and I forbid you to take as much as a
single pebble from my land. Now you know that.
_Ljot._
Why do you say that, father?
_Sveinungi._
You can go into the tent, Ljot. You have nothing to do here.
_Ljot._
I have something to say to you.
_Sveinungi._
What is it? (_Ljot is silent. To the Servants._) You can go. To-morrow I
shall have a talk with you, Einar, which you will remember.
_Einar._
It was not my fault.
_Sveinungi (to the Servants)._
Go! What are you waiting for? [_Exeunt Servants._
_Sveinungi (to Ljot)._
Now, what is it you have to say to me?
_Sølvi._
I have come here to ask for the hand of your daughter.
_Sveinungi._
Has not my daughter told you that she is betrothed?
_Ljot._
I have told him everything. I never cared for Halfdan-- you know that,
father, and I will not be his wife.
_Jorunn._
Ljot, it has never happened yet that one of my kin has broken faith.
If you do it, you will be the first.
_Sveinungi._
And you have not reckoned with your father. It does not lie altogether
with yourself to break your word. Do you think you can make a fool of
me? (_To Sølvi._) It does not make you my son-in-law that you have
trifled with my daughter.
_Sølvi._
It was no mere chance that we two found each other. Only for Ljot's sake
have I stayed so long in these parts. I came here to-night to find out
how you had fared; I could not help it.
_Sveinungi._
You feel proud that you have coaxed a young girl to break her word. You
think yourself very brave, and you have taken advantage of her when she
was beside herself with fear. You have come like a thief in the dead of
night.
_Sølvi._
I love your daughter. There is nothing wrong in that, and I am proud and
happy that she has given me her heart.
_Sveinungi (to Ljot)._
So that is what you have done. I dare say you have met him before and
more than once behind my back.
_Ljot._
Not once.
_Sveinungi._
And straightway you are ready to break your word. You knew that
Halfdan's father is the best friend I have.
_Ljot._
You must forgive me, father!
_Sveinungi._
And you knew I had sent him word that everything was settled.
_Ljot (takes his hand)._
Do you remember, father, when I was so little that I had to put my arms
around your knee? Then you never said no when I asked you for anything.
I am still your little girl.
_Sveinungi._
Let me go!
_Ljot._
You do care for me, father. I know of no one who has been so good to me
as you. You have given me everything that I call my own. You must give
me my happiness!
_Sveinungi._
Let go my hand!
_Jorunn._
I understand that Sølvi is very dear to you, my child, but this comes
upon us unawares, and it has been a terrible night for us all. (_To
Sølvi._) Could you not have waited before speaking to Sveinungi?
_Sølvi._
I cannot help it that it has come in this way. I would have waited if I
could.
_Jorunn._
I might perhaps have seen my way to put in a good word for you two. (_To
Sveinungi._) You won't be hard on your daughter! If we had been lying
under the ruins now, she would have had no need to ask us. To-night we
must not be merciless.
_Sveinungi._
Who is this man? I don't know him, nor do I know his people.
_Sølvi._
My father was a farmer like yourself. Had he been living, you two might
have become friends.
_Sveinungi (interrupting)._
The only thing I know about you is that you go about picking up stones
like the children.
_Sølvi._
You speak slightingly of my stones, but the knowledge I gain from them
can bring me more money than you ever made on your farm, and it can
bring me fame.
_Sveinungi._
What kind of knowledge is that?
_Sølvi._
Those stones teach me to know my country and how it has been built by
fire and water and ice. They give me an opportunity of finding out new
links in laws that are eternal and mightier than all mankind.
_Sveinungi._
Indeed! Since you are so passing wise, you ought to have told me days
ago that a great earthquake would come to-night. _That_ I could have
understood; but it seems that you knew as little there as the rest of
us. I believe old Jakobina is wiser than you.
_Sølvi._
I don't know how wise she is, but I do know of people who go through
life as if they were blind. They may have been living in the same place
all their lives, and yet they have never seen the landscape they live
with-- neither its beauty nor its peculiar character.
_Sveinungi._
They haven't? (_Points toward the "hraun."_) I have been out there in a
snowstorm so heavy that I could scarcely see a hand before me, and shall
I tell you how I found my way? I knew where I was by feeling before me
with my hands. (_Laughs._) No, I have never seen the _hraun_!
_Sølvi._
I did not say that you were among the blind, and I am sure you are human
enough not to force your daughter to marry against her will. It would
not give you much joy to feel that you had made her unhappy for her
whole life. If you think you do not know me well enough, you can find
out all you wish from myself or from others.
_Sveinungi._
I have no desire to learn anything about you, and you need not worry
about my daughter. She will stay here with me.
_Sølvi._
Ljot is not a child any longer. She can decide for herself.
_Sveinungi._
Perhaps you think she can't live without you. (_To Ljot._) If you care
as much for him as he imagines, I will let you prove it. I will let you
choose between him and me. If you choose him, then I have no daughter
any more.
_Ljot._
You don't mean to force me to such a choice!
_Sveinungi._
Can you for a single moment be in doubt about whom to choose of us two--
him or your old father?
_Ljot (kneeling)._
He is so unutterably dear to me.
_Sveinungi._
Get up! I don't want to see you lying like a dog at my feet.
_Ljot (rising)._
Then you have no daughter.
_Sølvi._
I knew you would not fail me!
_Jorunn._
You had better give your consent, Sveinungi, since it cannot be
otherwise. I cannot do without my only child.
_Sveinungi (goes to Ljot)._
You are quite free, Ljot; I will not try to force you, but when you have
thought it over, you will not leave your father and mother for the sake
of a stranger. You are my only child, and you have been the light of my
eyes since you were a little tot. When I came home from work I was never
too tired to listen to what you had to say. When you stroked my cheek it
was like warm summer rain falling on my face. It will be lonely and
empty here if you go. You cannot do it.
_Ljot._
Father, it is you who drive me away.
_Sveinungi._
You must listen to me. It has always been my intention that you should
take the farm, and yesterday when you promised to marry Halfdan it
seemed to me that all my wishes had been fulfilled. I was happy, and not
only for your sake, but fully as much for the farm. Yet you would leave
it now in the midst of misfortune. Look about you! Not a single building
is standing. Can you let your old father sit here alone and forsaken?
You might as well kill your father. And for whom should I build it up
again if you are not to have it? It might as well be left to rot on the
ground.
_Ljot._
You don't know, father, how much I care for him. I used to dream often
that the mountains fell so that I could see the land beyond. To-night it
seemed to me that the mountains fell.
_Sveinungi._
You are a wilful girl. (_To Sølvi._) Could you think of taking over my
farm, perhaps?
_Sølvi._
I could not--
_Sveinungi (interrupting)._
Do you two believe that you can cow me? (_Pointing to the ruins._) There
is a chest of drawers in there that Ljot keeps her clothes in. I will
have nothing of hers in my house. (_To Sølvi._) Will you go in there
with me and bring it out?
_Sølvi._
I have nothing to do in there.
_Sveinungi._
You can go, Ljot. I can't bear to see you. (_Goes over to the ruins;
stands resting his hands on the walls._)
_Sølvi (takes Ljot by the hand quietly)._
It is better that we leave your parents alone for a little while.
[_Exeunt._
_Jorunn._
You will have to give your consent, Sveinungi. You say yourself that all
you have done has been for your daughter.
_Sveinungi_ (_turns to Jorunn, passing his earth-stained hand over his
forehead_). Did you understand what I was about to do? I wanted to get
him into the ruins, and then I meant to give the post a shove.
_Jorunn._
God forgive you, man!
_Sveinungi._
Now we two must hold together. If we two are of one mind, I believe Ljot
will give in. You must try to bring her to her senses.
_Jorunn._
They are very fond of each other. It warmed my heart to see them. It
brought back the days of my own youth. I feel sure it would be a sin to
try to part those two.
_Sveinungi._
And you say that!
_Jorunn._
I think it was her fate to meet this man. She has always been a good and
dutiful daughter.
_Sveinungi._
And it was you who went with me into the house! Have you turned against
me-- you too?
_Jorunn (goes to him)._
You must not make the evil worse than it really is. The man looks as if
he came of good people, and we have every reason to believe that he is a
capable man. Even if we can't keep Ljot here, as we had hoped to do, she
will certainly find time to come and see us once in a while, and we
shall have that to look forward to.
_Sveinungi._
You think only of your daughter. It is nothing to you if my life-work is
wasted. I could name you many farms that have been an ornament to the
neighborhood as long as they have been handed down from man to man in
the same family, but once they have passed into other hands, they have
been tended in a makeshift way or left to go to rack and ruin
altogether. You have seen those old forlorn places, where the site is
overgrown with grass, and the heather has been allowed to spread all
over the yard. They remind me of graves. I tell you the truth: if such a
fate were in store for my farm, I should wish for nothing but to be
lying under the ruins myself.
_Jorunn._
Who says that your farm will not be rebuilt! You are not so old that you
cannot do it without help. If I know you rightly, you always grow
younger and stronger whenever there is anything that needs all your
powers. In a year or two you will have the buildings up again every bit
as fine as before.
_Sveinungi._
Spare your wheedling! What would be the use, even though I got the
houses up again? When my days are over, everything will pass into the
hands of careless people. And to think that this should happen only
because of a fleeting fancy!
_Jorunn._
Did it seem to you like a passing whim when Ljot was begging for your
consent? To me it seemed that she was pleading for her life.
_Sveinungi._
Even though this should mean more to my daughter than I think it does,
that can alter nothing. It is my right to care for my home and keep it
intact even after I am gone. When I am standing out in the _hraun_ and
looking toward home, the green yard looks like a spot of sunshine.
_Jorunn._
You take it for granted that none of your kin will ever reap the benefit
of your work, but your daughter is not dead, though she has chosen
another man than the one you wanted her to marry. Why should not those
two have children? They are both strong and healthy, and there is, after
all, a chance that some day one of their sons may take over the farm.
_Sveinungi._
I dare say a son of his would be the right man!
_Jorunn._
A daughter's son is often more like his grandfather than his father. You
know that as well as I.
_Sveinungi._
You are like a child playing with soap-bubbles. When one breaks, you are
straightway ready to blow a new one. You can't make me play at that
game. Even though they should have children, do I know how they would
turn out? And you see it the same way yourself, but you are trying to
fool me into giving my consent.
_Jorunn._
What do you gain even if you have your way and part those two? You may
bring it about that your daughter becomes one of those sour old maids;
for you cannot mean to drag her to the altar against her will.
_Sveinungi._
I didn't expect you to be against me. You wouldn't mind leaving the
farm, if you could live with your daughter. You care more for her than
for me.
_Jorunn (her voice growing husky)._
Why do you say this, Sveinungi? I have never weighed my feelings for you
two, nor do I intend to do it. I only know that where you are, there I
stay too.
_Sveinungi._
Even this very earth upon my hand is dear to me. I care for it as the
old house-leek would if she could feel. As for the young man whom you
think so much of, I should have grudged him even to have the earth fall
on his face. But you were not born here, as I was. You have not lived
here as a child. You are an outsider.
_Jorunn._
Am I an outsider! I am grown too old to kneel before you as your
daughter did, but if you send her away, I know that even though you
build your house both larger and finer, the room will seem less light to
me, and the smile will be gone from my face. Can you not spare me the
sorrow of losing my only child?
_Sveinungi._
I thought you knew me well enough not to tease me with bootless prayers.
What I have said stands.
_Jorunn._
I don't know what gives you the right to be so heartless. You were
tempting God when you went into the house, but He had mercy on you and
spared your life, and the very first thing you do is an act of cruelty.
(_Bursts out sobbing._)
_Sveinungi._
Don't take to crying, wife.
_Jorunn (weeping; sits down on one of the stones that have been torn
from the wall by the earthquake)._
I don't see how I am going to live through it if you send her away.
_Sveinungi (stands puzzled for a moment, then goes to her)._
I understand that you take this very much to heart. Do go into the tent
now and lie down. We must try to get over this as best we can.
_Jorunn (rising)._
I am sure I have lost my daughter forever. (_Weeps._)
_Sveinungi (takes her hands and kisses her on the cheek)._
I have always said good night to you with a kiss. You have been a good
wife to me. I little thought, when you went with me into the house, that
you should cry yourself to sleep this very night because of me. (_Jorunn
clings to him, weeping. Sveinungi releases himself suddenly._) Listen to
what I say. You shall not leave me this way. Now you can go to the young
folks and tell them that I give my consent. (_Moves a little away._) But
it will be on one strict condition. (_Jorunn wipes her eyes on her
apron._) They must promise me that if they have a son, he shall be
brought up here with us.
_Jorunn (her face lighting up)._
I believe this thought was sent you by Him who showed mercy upon you
this night.
_Sveinungi._
Even if it should be their only child. (_Goes to Jorunn._) And you can
tell them that it is only for your sake I yield. Now you won't cry any
more?
_Jorunn._
God bless you! How happy Ljot will be! (_Turns to go._)
_Sveinungi._
You needn't be in such a hurry. I don't care to have the young folks see
that you have been crying. And one thing more; Sølvi must not come here
until I send him word. I want to explain to my old friend how all this
has come about.
_Jorunn._
Sølvi will understand. (_Sits down, very still, with her hands in her
lap, gazing straight before her._) And the boy is to be named Sveinungi.
(_Unconsciously she passes her right hand back and forth over the edge
of the stones._)
_Sveinungi._
Yes, they can well be used again, the old stones. Now you had better go
to Ljot.
_Jorunn (rising, pats his arm)._
Yes, yes, I am going, and I am happy. [_Exit._
(_Sveinungi stands for a moment looking after her, then bends
down over the stones, examining them closely. He turns over
one stone-- and one more-- _)
[Transcriber's Note:
The following songs were printed with musical notation (melody only).
The HTML version of this e-text includes the songs in three forms:
raw lilypond (.ly extension, can be converted to other formats),
.pdf (image), and MIDI (sound). Some sites will allow you to download
these files individually; if so, look in the "files" directory
associated with the HTML text. The first "Folk Melody" appears under
the name "Lullaby".]
_Kari's Song_
Far in the hills I wandered; softly shone the summer night,
And the sun had ne'er a thought of sleeping.
Now will I bring my sweetheart dear the hidden treasure bright,
For faithfully my vows I would be keeping.
Heigh, ho! New and fine my stockings are, new and fine my shoes,
And not a care in all the world to plague me!
_Icelandic Folk Melody_
Sweetly sleep, my dear young love,
Outside rain is falling,
Mother safely away will stow
Horse and sheep and swan and dove.
Then we'll rest, we two, for night is calling.
_Icelandic Folk Melody_
Have you seen a brave young lad?
'Tis my friend,
Dearest friend;
'Mongst all men in byrnie clad
The bonniest is he.
I have smiled my teeth all white and shining,
I have smiled my teeth all white and shining with glee.
NOTE: _The Editors are responsible for the translation of the lyrics._
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THE AMERICAN-SCANDINAVIAN REVIEW
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Errata noted by transcriber:
... sympathetic cooperation to good ends.
_paragraph-ending period (full stop) missing_
Do you know when they will come to catch the thief!
_punctuation unchanged_