Early Plays - Catiline, the Warrior's Barrow, Olaf Liljekrans Part 46

LADY KIRSTEN. I will not speak of our own circ.u.mstances; 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 n.o.ble 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.]

SCENE III

[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 n.o.ble 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!

SCENE IV

[OLAF. ALFHILD from the church.]

ALFHILD. [Runs eagerly to meet him.]

Olaf! Olaf! You have led me to the land Where I walk amid flowers, where before I trod on sand.

In truth you have here so pleasant an isle, O here I can live without worry or guile!

So much I would question, so little I know, The riddles must you explain as we go.-- Is it green here always in summer and spring?

OLAF. Alfhild!

ALFHILD. Your answer delay!

You see yon house with its spire and wing?

There went I this morning to play; Without there was joy, there was laughter and mirth; Within it was still as nowhere on earth.

I stepped through the door, I saw a great hall, Within was a peace that was fair; A dawn softly breaking pervaded it all, And people were kneeling in prayer.

But high from above them a virgin looked down, She sailed upon clouds of white, Her head shone forth like a crimson crown, Like heaven when dawns the light.

Calm was her face, a blue dress she wore, A beautiful elf in her arms she bore, And round about her played angels of love, That laughed when they saw me below in the door From their place in the heavens above!

OLAF. [Aside.] Alas! I have wrought so woeful a play, Soon will her sorrow begin!

ALFHILD. O, tell me, Olaf! what people are they Who live in the house I was in?

OLAF. Each one who like you is good and kind, Each one who is child-like in spirit and mind.

'Tis the church, G.o.d's house,--it belongs to him.

ALFHILD. The mighty father! 'Tis only your whim!

His house is high over the stars in the sky, Where the white swan sails undefiled, So high 'tis beyond any mortal eye Save that of the dreaming child!-- The church that you spoke of! So then it is there We shall ride in festal procession, As bridegroom and bride!

OLAF. [Aside.] No longer I dare Delay my wretched confession!

ALFHILD. Ah, each of your words has burned like a coal, And deep its mark it has left on my soul!

My bosom is filled with joy and with song; Wherever I wander in field or at home, They s.h.i.+ne on my path, they light me along,-- Like stars at night in the heavenly dome!

You said the whole world would be asked to the feast, And foremost should ride the minstrel and priest, Knights should go forward and guide my steed, And roses should blossom on every side, Each lily we met should bow like a weed, The flowers should curtsy before the bride!

OLAF. Have I said--

ALFHILD. Olaf, you surely recall!

All things have followed your every desire; The lindens stand yonder so green and so tall; The roses are decked in their festive attire And dance like elves at an elfen ball.

Never did heaven's illumining eye So radiantly s.h.i.+ne as here from the sky; Never before sang the birds so sweet!

They sing the bride and the bridegroom to greet!-- O, you--you make me so happy and blessed, Both heaven and earth could I hold to my breast!

Nowhere can so humble a weed be found Which under my feet I could crush and destroy, Nowhere a creature so deep in the ground, But I would share in its sorrow and joy!

My bosom is filled with the glory of spring; It surges and roars like a wood in a storm!

OLAF. [Aside.] And soon this youthful and lovely form Shall writhe beneath sorrow's tormenting sting!

ALFHILD. O, glorious life!

[She kneels with upstretched arms.]

ALFHILD. O father of love, In the distant heaven! Had I but the power, The tongues of the angels above, Thy praise I should sing every hour; I cannot, for I am of little worth, I can only bow down before you to the earth-- O thanks, thou unspeakable! Glory and praise For all I can here understand of thy ways!

[She rises.]

ALFHILD. Yes, lovely is life in its every breath, As lovely almost as the journey to death!

OLAF. In the grave you think it is pleasant to lie?

ALFHILD. I know not your meaning, but I brooded long.

And asked of my father "What means it to die?"

In answer thereto he sang me a song:

"When the child of man is weighted with grief And longs to be rocked to rest, Then comes there an elf with wings of white And frees its spirit oppressed.