Early Plays by Henrik Ibsen (best novels in english txt) 📕

disappeared on the eve of her wedding.

ARNE.  Aye, that was many years ago; nowadays such things never

happen.  But we'll all help to find him.

INGEBORG.  It was not sung at my cradle that I should run about

in forest and field to find my bridegroom.

ARNE.  Be still!

INGEBORG.  If he is enthralled in the mountain, then let her take

him who has done it; I don't propose to share my betrothed's

heart and soul.

HEMMING.  [Softly and feelingly.]  The Lord bless you for those

words!

INGEBORG.  [With a haughty look of dismissal.]  What?

ARNE.  Will you be silent, I say!

ARNE.  [To the Guests.]  Now quick, my good men!  Spread out and

search for him on every ridge and in every hillock!  Away!  Quite

so!  Tomorrow we drink to the wedding!

[The Guests and LADY KIRSTEN's People go out in different groups

to the right and the left.]

ARNE.  [Softly, to LADY KIRSTEN.]  We must find him!  It would

cause me eternal shame if the wedding--

LADY KIRSTEN.  Come, then, come!

INGEBORG.  [Softly, to HEMMING, who stands downcast.]  Why do you

not go with the rest?  Better it were that you brought me again

my betrothed than stand here thus and bless me for words I really

don't mean.

ARNE.  [At the exit.]  Come, come!

INGEBORG.  [To HEMMING, who starts to go.]  Wait, Hemming!

Fasten my shoe buckle!

[LADY KIRSTEN and ARNE go out to the left.]

[INGEBORG.  HEMMING.]

INGEBORG.  [Puts her foot forward.]  See there,--fasten it tight!

[HEMMING kneels and does her bidding.]

INGEBORG.  [As she puts the other foot forward.]  There,--buckle

this one too!  Well, why do you bow your head?  Has something

gone wrong?

HEMMING.  Do you demand that I shall speak honestly?

INGEBORG.  Certainly I do.

HEMMING.  Well, then you must know--

INGEBORG.  [Quickly.]  O no, it isn't necessary.

[She moves away a few steps; HEMMING rises.]

HEMMING.  Alas, Lady Ingeborg!  Once you were so kind to me; but

now since you have become a real grown-up lady--and especially, I

imagine, since you gave your betrothal vow--

INGEBORG.  What then?

HEMMING.  O nothing!--

[A pause.]

HEMMING.  Can you remember,--we have been up here once before?

INGEBORG.  [Curtly.]  I don't remember!

HEMMING.  You had run after your spotted goat, and I followed

you, as was always my custom,--yes, that was a long time ago, but

I remember it as if it happened today; right down there lies the

swamp, which--

INGEBORG.  [Comes nearer.]  Was it the time we heard the bear?

HEMMING.  Yes, the very time.

INGEBORG.  [Constantly becoming more animated.]  I found the goat

again.

HEMMING.  No, it was I who first discovered it.

INGEBORG.  Yes, yes, you are right; up there on the slope--

HEMMING.  And then you took your garter.

INGEBORG.  And bound it.

HEMMING.  Yes, for we had come to pick strawberries.

INGEBORG.  Over there on the hill, yes!  And you had made me a

birch-bark scrip.

HEMMING.  But then it was we heard--

INGEBORG.  The bear, ha, ha, ha!  We had to cross the swamp just

where it was the wettest,--

HEMMING.  And then I took you in my arms.

INGEBORG.  And jumped with me from tuft to tuft.

INGEBORG.  [Laughing.]  How frightened we were, the two of us!

HEMMING.  Of course I was most frightened for your sake.

INGEBORG.  And I for yours--

[Stops suddenly and as she continues to look at him her face

assumes an imperious and wounded expression.]

INGEBORG.  What is it you stand here and say?  Why don't you go?

Is it fitting to speak thus to your master's daughter?  Go, go;

you were to find my betrothed!

HEMMING.  Alas, I forgot your betrothed; I forgot that you are my

master's daughter.

INGEBORG.  If you find him, I promise you an embroidered jacket

for Christmas,--so pleased shall I be.

HEMMING.  I don't want any jacket; I serve you neither for gold

nor silver, neither for keep nor for knightly dress.  But now I

am off; what lies in my power I shall do, if I know it pleases

you.

INGEBORG.  [Who has climbed up on a stone and is picking some

blossoming cherry twigs.]  Hemming! how rich is my betrothed?

HEMMING.  How rich he is I really can't say; but it is said of

his grandsire in the song:

  With golden attire he can provide

  A hundred maids or more for his bride!

So mighty perhaps is not Olaf Liljekrans, but still he owns

both forest and field.

INGEBORG.  [Still occupied.]  And you, what do you possess?

HEMMING.  [Sighing.]  My poverty--is all I have.

INGEBORG.  That isn't very much, Hemming!

HEMMING.  No, it isn't very much, Mistress Ingeborg!

INGEBORG.  [Hums, turned away from him, without changing her

position, and still occupied as before.]

  'Tis little my heart is attracted indeed

  To him who has all the wealth he may need!

  Much more I fancy the humble swain,

  The friend of my heart he will ever remain!

HEMMING.  [In the greatest joy.]  Ingeborg!  O, if what you say

is true, I must tenfold bless my poverty.

INGEBORG.  [Turns her head and speaks coldly.]  I don't

understand you; the song was only an ancient ballad.

[Comes down from the rock with the cherry twigs in her hand, and

approaches him as she looks at him fixedly.]

INGEBORG.  But I know another song too, and that I will sing for

you:

  The king's court within stand the steeds so fair;

  The suitor who lacks not the courage to dare,--

  He shoes the yellow, he shoes the gray,

  The swiftest he saddles before it is day!

  He places his bride on the steed behind,

  She follows him safe, she follows him blind.

  He rides with her off, to the sea they hie,

  With him she would willingly live and die!

HEMMING.  [As though beside himself.]  Ingeborg! Ingeborg! then

nothing shall henceforth terrify me!  Not that you have a

betrothed, not that you are my master's daughter;--yea, as sure

as I live, I shall steal you tonight!

INGEBORG.  [Vehemently, as she constantly struggles to suppress a

smile.]  Help me, God! what is amiss with you?  What is it you

are thinking of?  Will you steal your master's daughter?  You

must be sick or mad to conceive such a thing!  Yet, it shall be

forgotten--for this once.  Go, now! and thank heaven you escape

so lightly; for you have certainly earned a blow--

INGEBORG.  [Raises the twigs, but lets them fall, and says in a

changed tone.]  --and my red golden ring--see there, take it!

[Throws him a ring, which she has removed from her arm, and

rushes out quickly to the left.]

[HEMMING.  Shortly afterwards OLAF Liljekrans from the,

background.  The moon rises.]

HEMMING.  The golden ring unto me she has granted,

Then still is she true, I am not deceived!

'Twas only in jest that she scolded and ranted

As though she were bitterly grieved.

All will I venture, no more will I dread!

HEMMING.  [Despondent.]  And yet, I am only a penniless swain,

And early tomorrow is she to be wed!

HEMMING.  [Quickly.]  But into the forest the bridegroom is fled;

O, if he should never come home again!

HEMMING.  [Starts to rush out, but stops with a cry.]

Olaf! there is he!

[OLAF comes slowly forward between the rocks in the background.

He walks dreaming, his head uncovered, and his hands full of

flowers which he tears to pieces and scatters on the way; his

whole behavior during the following indicates an unsettled

mind.]

OLAF.  [Without noticing HEMMING.]

If only I knew What she meant, could somehow the riddle unravel!

[Starts to go out to the left.]

HEMMING.  Lord Olaf!  Lord Olaf!  O where do you travel?

O hear me, Lord Olaf!

OLAF.  [Half awakening.]

Hemming!  Is it you?  Stand not in my way!

HEMMING.  What is it that weighs

On your mind, that you wander in here for three days?

[Observes him more closely.]

HEMMING.  And what is the game that here you do play,--

Your cheek is white, and your forehead is gray!

OLAF.  Be not so amazed that my cheek is white,

Three nights have I fought so strange a fight;

Be not so amazed that my forehead is gray,

Three nights have I been in the elfen play.

HEMMING.  Heaven protect us!

OLAF.  I am ill, I am faint!

I remember neither devil nor saint!

HEMMING.  [Apprehensively.]

Come, Olaf, with me to your mother's estate!

OLAF.  My mother's estate!  Where stood it of late?

'Tis here, as it seems, that I have my home!

The wood has become my ancestral hall,

The river's roaring, the pine-trees' moan,

Is sweeter to me than my mother's call.

OLAF.  [With increasing rapture.]

Aye, here it is quiet!  Aye, here it is fair!

Behold, my hall for the feast I prepare.

HEMMING.  [Aside.]  O what has come o'er him?

OLAF.  Soon comes my bride!

HEMMING.  Your bride!  Then you know--?

OLAF.  [Continuing.]  When the day has died,

When slumber the birds, when fades the cloud,

Then here will she come so young and so proud!

HEMMING.  [Crosses himself.]

All heavenly saints!  I fear the worst!

OLAF.  Know you when it was that I saw her here first?

I rode late one evening from Guldvik hall,

Some kind of feast I seem to recall.

My spirit was heavy, my heart full of woe!

That something had grieved me is all that I know.

I rode all alone up the mountain side,

At midnight I passed by the river so wide;

Then heard I beyond a melodious wail,

That rang like a song over mountain and dale.

It seemed a plaintive, bewitching lay;

I folded my hands, I tried to pray,

But tied was my tongue and my thoughts went astray;

The strains did beguile and lure me away.

'Twas now like weeping and now like laughter,

'Twas now full of mirth, and now ever after

As were it the cry of a perishing man,

As were it a soul in the anguish of death,

That I heard in the song so beguiling, that ran

Like a stream around me!--I scarce got my breath!

So sorely bewildered was I in my soul;

It was as if powers both gentle and strong

Enticed me and lured me away from my goal,

I needs must come up, I was carried along.

And ever rang out the mysterious call;

How far I rode on I no longer recall.

HEMMING.  [Aside.]  And the bride, of whom the minstrel

sang,--she too had to follow--

OLAF.  My foal stopped short, I awoke in a maze,

I looked around with a wondering gaze;

'Twas all so pleasant and fair!  But what land

I was in I could not understand!

I stood in a valley;--a deep peace lay

Over all like dew in the night!

The moon on the edge of the tarn did play;

It seemed to laugh as it vanished away

In the rolling billows so bright!

My head was heavy, my spirit oppressed,

I yearned for nothing but sleep;

I laid me down 'neath a linden to rest

In the whispering forest so sweet!

HEMMING.  Lord Olaf!  Lord Olaf!  How dared you do it?

OLAF.  [Continuing.]

I ventured then into the elf-maidens' play;

The fairest of maidens gave me a bouquet

Of snow-drops blue and of lilies white;

She pierced my soul with her glances so bright,

And whispered to me what nobody knows,--

A word I'll keep ever in mind:

"Olaf Liljekrans! know you where happiness grows,

Know you the hour when peace you will find?

Of all the flowers on the hill over yonder

Must you the fairest one find,

And bit by bit you must tear it asunder

And scatter it far to the wind,

Then--only then will you happiness find!"

HEMMING.  You have slumbered and dreamed!

OLAF.  That very