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

The princess, my father! the princess am I;

But he, the fair knight, bent the troll to his will!--

And now I am free to do what I may;

I will hence into life and its motley affray!

His words were like song!  I am free as the wind;

No power can stay me or hold me behind!

THORGJERD.  Poor child!  You would down to the village below;

It will cost you your happiness; stay, do not go!

ALFHILD.  But, father, I must!  Your sweetest lays

Will seem to me now like a misty haze!

THORGJERD.  Then go, my Alfhild! and dream while you may,

Your father will guard you alway!

But look you take care of the crafty young swains

With words so cunning and free!

ALFHILD.  Away in the distant and sunny domains,--

Where Olaf is, there must I be!

There stands his castle with golden hall!

From the ballads you sang his face I recall;

The king's son is he, the knight who can ride,

And I, the poor Alfhild,--I am his bride!

Poor, did I say,--no, the princess on high,

O, more than the princess,--his sweetheart am I!

Volume: 3

[The wedding chorus is heard far down the mountain side.]

ALFHILD.  Listen, he calls with his trumpet and horn!

Farewell now, forest and flower and thorn!

Farewell, my valley; you have cramped me too long,

The whole world is calling with laughter and song!

Tomorrow attired in gold I shall ride

Away to the church as Olaf's bride!

We shall sit on the throne of honor within--

Ah, now shall my life in its fulness begin!

[She rushes out to the left.  THORGJERD gazes after her

thoughtfully.  The chorus dies away in the distance as the

curtain falls.]

[The enclosure on Lady Kirsten's estate.  To the right

is seen the main building with an opening in the

gable; neither windows nor doors are visible.  Further

towards the back of the stage on the same side a small

log church and a churchyard.  On the left side a

storehouse and other out-buildings.  On both sides in

the foreground simple benches of stone.  It is

afternoon.]

SCENE I

[LADY KIRSTEN.  Servants and Maids occupied with preparations for

the wedding.]

LADY KIRSTEN.  Let there be no lack of food or drink.

LADY KIRSTEN.  [To herself.]  Hard have I labored and struggled

to bring things to this point; but now I shall give a feast that

shall be heralded far and wide.

LADY KIRSTEN.  [To the servants.]  Be sure to see that on the

banquet table--yet no, I shall attend to that myself.  The wine

shall be poured into the silver flagons; the large drinking horns

shall be filled with the Italian cider; the ale is for the

servants only, and likewise the homebrewed mead;--and listen, be

sure to see that there are enough yellow candles in the church;

the bridal party are not to go to the altar until late in the

evening, and with red lights shall they be escorted on their way

from the banquet hall to the church.  Go now, all of you, and see

that you remember, every one of you, the things I have told you.

[The people go.]

LADY KIRSTEN.  God knows this wedding is costing me more than I

well can bear; but Ingeborg brings with her a good dowry and

besides--Oh, well, Arne I shall no doubt be able to manage and

rule as I see fit, if he is first--

[Looks out to the right.]

LADY KIRSTEN.  There comes Olaf!  If only I knew that he--

[LADY KIRSTEN.  OLAF comes from the house in festive

garb; he is pale and thoughtful.]

OLAF.  [To himself.]  Yesterday and today!  There is but a

midsummer night between the two, and yet it seems to me that both

autumn and winter have overtaken my soul since the time I

wandered up there on the mountain side--with her, with Alfhild!

OLAF.  [Notices Lady Kirsten.]  Alas, my dear mother, are you

there?

LADY KIRSTEN.  Quite so, my son!  I like to see you dressed in

gold and in silk.  Now one can see by your dress who it is that

is bridegroom tonight.  I see you have rested.

OLAF.  I have slept, but little have I rested; for all the while

I was dreaming.

LADY KIRSTEN.  A bridegroom must dream,--that is an ancient

custom.

OLAF.  My fairest dream is ended; let us not think any longer

about that.

LADY KIRSTEN.  [Changing the subject.]  We shall have a merry

time today, I think.

OLAF.  It does not appear that heaven is pleased with my wedding

day.

LADY KIRSTEN.  How so?

OLAF.  There are indications of a storm.  Do you see how heavily

the clouds are gathering in the west?

LADY KIRSTEN.  The brighter the festive candles will shine when

you go to the church tonight.

OLAF.  [Paces back and forth a few times; at length he stops

before his mother and says.]  If I had married a poor man's

daughter, without family or wealth,--tell me, mother, what would

you have done?

LADY KIRSTEN.  [Looks at him sharply.]  Why do you ask?

OLAF.  Answer me first.  What would you have done?

LADY KIRSTEN.  Cursed you and gone to my grave in sorrow!--But

tell me, why do you ask?

OLAF.  Ah, it was only a jest; I little thought of doing so.

LADY KIRSTEN.  That I can believe; for you have always held your

family in high honor.  But be merry and gay; tomorrow Ingeborg

will sit in there as your wife, and then you will find both peace

and happiness.

OLAF.  Peace and happiness.  One thing there is lacking.

LADY KIRSTEN.  What do you mean?

OLAF.  The fairest of flowers which I was to pick asunder and

scatter far to the winds.

LADY KIRSTEN.  The silly dream;--think no longer about it.

OLAF.  Perhaps it would be best for me if I could forget.

LADY KIRSTEN.  In the ladies' room your betrothed sits with all

her maids; little have you talked with her today.  Do you not

want to go in?

OLAF.  [In thought.]  Yes, yes!  Where is she?

LADY KIRSTEN.  In the ladies' room, as I said.

OLAF.  [Lively.]  Nothing shall be lacking to her from this day.

Shoes with silver buckles I shall give her; she shall wear

brooches and rings.  The withered twigs shall be put away; I

shall give her a golden necklace to wear.

LADY KIRSTEN.  Of whom do you speak?

OLAF.  Of Alfhild!

LADY KIRSTEN.  I was speaking of Ingeborg, your betrothed.  Olaf!

Olaf!  You make me anxious and worried,--so strange are you.  I

could really almost believe that she had bewitched you.

OLAF.  That she has!  Yes, forsooth, mother, I have been

bewitched.  I have been in the elf maidens' play; happy and gay I

was as long as it lasted, but now--.  Through long, long years I

shall be weighed down with woe as often as I call it to mind.

LADY KIRSTEN.  If she were a witch, the stake would surely be

hers; but she is a crafty and wily woman who has lured you on

with her fair speech.

OLAF.  She is pure as the mother of God herself!

LADY KIRSTEN.  Yes, yes, but beware!  Remember, whatever she is,

tomorrow you are wed; it would be both sin and shame to you if

you longer took notice of her.

OLAF.  I realize it, mother, full well!

LADY KIRSTEN.  And Ingeborg, whom you have betrothed and who

loves you, yes, Olaf! loves you with all her heart--the

punishment of heaven would be visited on you, in case you--

OLAF.  True, true!

LADY KIRSTEN.  I will not speak of our own circumstances; but you

can easily see that Arne's daughter can help us greatly in one

thing or another; our affairs have been going from bad to worse,

and if the harvest should fail this year I should not in the

least be surprised if we had to take up the beggar's staff.

OLAF.  Yes, I know it.

LADY KIRSTEN.  With Arne's money we can mend everything; an

honorable place you will win for yourself among the king's men.

Think this carefully over; if you have promised Alfhild more than

you can fulfil--and I seem to notice in her something like that

in spite of her quiet demeanor--why, speak with her about it.

Tell her,--well, tell her anything you please; empty-handed she

shall not go away from here,--that you can freely promise.  See,

here she comes!  Olaf, my son! think of your betrothed and your

noble race, think of your old mother who would have to go to her

grave in shame, in case--be a man, Olaf!  Now I go in to look

after the banqueting table.

[Goes into the house.]

[OLAF alone.]

OLAF.  [Gazes out to the right.]

As merry she is as the youthful roe,

As it plays with no thought of the morrow;

But soon will she wring her small hands in woe,

And suffer in anguish and sorrow!

Soon must I destroy the faith in her heart,

And waken her out of her dreams.

And then--yes, then we forever must part.

Poor Alfhild!  So bitter your fate to me seems!

OLAF.  [Brooding.]

What cared I for honor, what cared I for power,

What mattered my race when I wandered with you!

It seemed in your eyes was reflected a flower,

More precious than any the world ever knew!

Forgotten I had both struggle and strife,

But since I again came home to this life,

Since at table I sat in my father's hall,

Since I went to answer my mother's call--

OLAF.  [Abruptly.]  'Tis true from a noble race I am born,

And Alfhild lives up in the mountains forlorn.

In her I should find but a constant sorrow.

I must tell her--yet, no, I can't let her know!

Yet truly--I must--I must ere the morrow,

She must hear what to me is the bitterest woe!

[OLAF.  ALFHILD from the church.]

ALFHILD.  [Runs eagerly to meet him.]

Olaf!  Olaf!  You have