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Fenris, the Wolf: A Tragedy

Chapter 4: ACT I
By Percy MacKaye
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About This Book

A poetic tragedy drawn from Norse myth stages the clash between a chained, wolf-born figure and the gods who fear and claim him, examining filial conflict and the burden of culpability. The drama alternates cosmic, ritualized prologue scenes—where deities debate fate and responsibility—with human-level episodes featuring priests, hunters, and a priestess who confront the creature’s impact on their community. Recurring motifs include the attempt to bind elemental chaos with law, the cost of knowledge and sacrifice, and the ambivalence of divine power. Lyric invocations and stark set pieces build toward tragic reckonings that interrogate inevitability and moral consequence.

ACT I

Scene I: Outside a tribal temple.

The gable beams are low; only the entrance end of the building, set at an angle, on the left, is visible. In the distance rises a snow-capped volcano, its slopes—in the nearer background—pied with the young leaves and blossoms of early spring; against these, jutting from behind the temple, a gallows-tree. On the right, at back, a solitary pine of great age sways solemn boughs over half the scene, the centre of which is occupied by a vast monolith, or boulder, tapering upward to a jagged end. The face of this stone, graved deeply with runes, is (on its lower half) dark carmine and smooth as ivory; from behind it blue smoke is rising; before it stands an altar of stone, on which is set a silver bowl.
In front of this altar stands Ingimund, the temple priest, clad in a sleeveless leathern smock to the knees; his arms are reddened with sacrifice; from his throat—beneath his long, grey hair—hangs an image of Odin; on his right wrist a ring of plain gold; in his left hand a spear. On either side of him an altar priest holds a bunch of sprinkling twigs. From the temple four other priests are bearing a slaughtered bullock to the fire behind the rune-stone. Massed in the right foreground are Egil and his men; on the left, Arfi and his men. Egil, noble of stature, stands moodily filing the grooves of a crossbow; Arfi, bent and dwarfed, sits with his ear close to a harp, which he thrums softly.
From the right background, beneath the pine, enters, singing, a procession of the folk, escorting an ark on wheels, drawn by oxen, whose flanks are wreathed with flowers, and whose horns are adorned with gold. Following the ark, which passes on into the temple, horses and sheep are led to the sacrifice. These, as they pass before him, Ingimund marks with the sign of a spear, while the altar priests sprinkle them with blood from the silver bowl.
At the entrance of the temple stand Thordis and her Virgins, who take from the beasts their garlands and hang them on the doors and outer walls. The men and women of the throng, chanting to a barbaric cadence, lift up their arms and faces to the sky.
THE FOLK Wanderer of earth and air, Walker on the giant flood, Odin! Asa Odin! Pilgrim of the storm!
Lyer in the Sybil’s lair, Reader of the runes of blood, Thou who hearkenest all prayer— World-spirit and worm, Odin! Asa Odin! Hear us, Allfather!
[Distant thunder.]
FRIDA Thordis, he hears.
THE VIRGINS He hears!
THE FOLK He hears!
YORUL [To Rolf.] Behold The dwarf, where he sits shrivelled by his harp. Ho, Arfi! hear’st thou Odin? Hast invited The trolls, thy cousins, to the bridal?
WULDOR Silence! He listens to the stars behind the storm.
YORUL The tree-frogs, Wuldor. He, thy master, is Their father.
WULDOR So thy master is their uncle.
YORUL My master shall be bridegroom, never fear! Hath Arfi slain his boar?
WULDOR Hath Egil sung The slaying of his boar?
YORUL Hath Arfi leashed The wild stag by the horns and led him home?
WULDOR Hath Egil read the runes on Odin’s stone?
YORUL Weaklings and women ye!
WULDOR Thou liest, Yorul.
YORUL [Strikes Wuldor.]
Ho, Egil, here!
WULDOR [Retaliating.] Ho, Arfi!
[The followers, from either side, spring forward and fight fiercely. Ingimund strikes among them with his spear.]
INGIMUND Fools of anger! This ground is Odin’s; he alone may judge Which of your masters shall betroth his priestess. Back! and await his sign.—Come, Thordis.
FRIDA [Parting with Thordis by the temple.] Joy And love be thine, dear lady.
[Leaving her maidens, Thordis comes quietly from the temple and stands before the rune-stone and Ingimund, who, with his spear, beckons also Egil and Arfi. As these join Thordis, the altar priests, with a heavy chain of gold, enclose the four in a circular space, while the folk chant as before.]
THE FOLK Save us, Lord, from lovers’ hate, Shelter us from brothers’ feud! Odin! Asa Odin! Only thou art wise.
Choose unto this maid a mate Hallowed by thy sanctitude, Send thine omen while we wait, Making sacrifice. Odin! Asa Odin! Save us, Allfather!
[Thunder; storm gathers and the scene grows darker, as bigger clouds of smoke roll upward from behind the rune-stone.]
INGIMUND [Removing the gold circlet from his wrist.] Here, Your right hands here—all three—on Odin’s ring. [To Egil, then Arfi.] Press deeper in the sand thy foot, now thine. [To the Priests.] Fill up the footprints with the sacred blood. Brother in brother’s footstep, hark your oath— Your oath to abide by Asa Odin’s will.
[As Egil and Arfi grasp the ring, lightning begins to play over the scene, and thunder deepens the voices of the people.]
THE FOLK Odin! Odin! Asa Odin! Send upon thy folk a portent!
INGIMUND [Lifting his face and spear toward the sky, intones.] By thy runes forever writ On Allwaker’s ear and Allswift’s hoof, On Sleipni’s teeth and the sledge-bands, On the Wolf’s claw and the eagle’s beak, On the bloody wings and the bridge’s end!—
THE FOLK Odin! Odin! Asa Odin! Send upon thy folk a portent!
INGIMUND By thy runes forever writ On Brage’s tongue and the bear’s paw, On the midwife’s palm and the amber god, On Norna’s nail and the owl’s neb, On wine and wort and the Sibyl’s seat!—
THE FOLK Odin! Odin! Asa Odin! Send thy portent, O Allfather!
FRIDA Look! look! himself doth come.
THE FOLK Fly! fly! Oh, fly!
FRIDA Himself doth come, and with him all the gods!
[Amid supernatural darkness and thunder-peal, Ingimund, Thordis, Egil, and Arfi are struck to the earth, and all the people flee, except Yorul and Frida, who crouch beside the temple.]
THE FOLK [In the distance.] Bow down! bow down! [Pause; the passing of the storm; silence.]
FRIDA [Rising.] Yorul!—You do not speak. Yorul!
YORUL O Frida, hush!
FRIDA And did you see them? Four were they all together, and they passed Like fire, and four returned, in robes of flame, But paler.
YORUL May be so; I saw them not.
FRIDA Two others stood on Odin’s stone, and one Laughed loud, and whirled a whip of blazing brass, And one thrust through his beard a smoking hammer.
YORUL May be; may be. What did you say? Speak not! [Embracing her.] O heart of mine, thou beatest yet. We live. The sun—how still it is! What’s that?
FRIDA A bird Singing under the temple’s eaves.
YORUL And all Are fled. What be those four that lie so still?
[Together they approach the bodies.]
FRIDA Alas! O lady dear!
YORUL Dead! they are dead. Egil, my master! Odin’s voice hath slain him. Cursed be Odin!
FRIDA Yorul—take them back, Those words! Their sacrilege shall work us woe.
YORUL What matter? He is dead.
FRIDA Oh, do not think it! Perhaps they sleep. Look how their brows still wear High thoughts. I think they dream. Go! fetch a leech.
YORUL A leech for death?
FRIDA Go quickly, Yorul!
YORUL Well! [Going out.] A leech here for the dead! A leech, ho! [Exit.]
FRIDA [Alone with the four bodies, stands before the rune-stone.] Odin! Have pity on the dead; let them awake! [Slowly the bodies rise and look upon her; she crouches before them.] Ah me! Your eyes! They burn. O turn away Your bright eternal eyes!
[She falls unconscious. Egil, who has risen with the gold altar chain wound about him, gnaws it.]
EGIL Death! Freedom! freedom!
[Enter Yorul and a Leech, followed by the folk.]
THE LEECH Who calls for leechcraft here?
YORUL [Stands bewildered.] A miracle!
THORDIS [Bends over Frida.] The child is stricken.
ARFI Let me lift her, Thordis.
YORUL A miracle! O Frida, speak to me!
THE LEECH [To the folk.] Stand off! Give air!
WULDOR [To the folk.] Hath Yorul then deceived us?
ROLF Behold, they live!
FRIDA [Rising, faintly.] Thanks; lead me to the temple.
INGIMUND What hath befallen?
WULDOR Hail, Ingimund! The portent Of Odin hath befallen.
INGIMUND Saw ye, or what?
[Wuldor and the folk whisper among themselves. Yorul supports Frida toward the temple.]
YORUL But how? What chanced?
FRIDA Their eyes! their burning eyes! Oh, I have seen their souls: they are not theirs. Four bright ones came, four pale ones went away.
YORUL Clean reft of wit!
FRIDA Oh, shut me in the dark!
[Taking Frida from Yorul, the temple virgins lead her into the temple.]
INGIMUND [To Wuldor.] Saw ye, I say, or what?
WULDOR Ask Yorul, father.
INGIMUND Speak thou! What hath befallen?
YORUL [Returning dazed from the temple.] Odin is wise; Ye that were dead are risen from the dead, And Frida, my betrothèd, is reft of reason.— She said it would be, for I cursed him.—Egil! Master and lord, welcome to life!
[Egil, who, with fixed gaze, has been eyeing Thordis, starts wildly, paces back and forth, dragging the altar chain as he moves.]
EGIL A verdict! A verdict, priest and earls! Thordis is mine.
EGIL’S MEN Thordis for Egil!
ARFI’S MEN Thordis for Arfi!
INGIMUND Peace! Heaven’s omen still is dark, and Odin’s sign Ambiguous. Not one, but four of us, His hand hath stricken. Wherefore thus I read His riddle: Thordis shall herself decide.
THORDIS Father, not I!
INGIMUND This ancient feud must end. These two have sworn to abide by Odin’s will; His will it is that thou make choice of them. Hearken their pleas, and choose.
THORDIS To one must I Give pain?
INGIMUND To one give joy. Speak, Arfi.
ARFI Lady, That those who love are blind I pray be so That, loving, so you may behold me not— What thing I seem, but only hear my voice— What truth I am. Thordis, even now I dreamed A dream more high and awful than the clouds And breathless peaks afire of poesie: We stood together on the morning’s brink; Crater and frozen cliff and snowy scar Hung, avalanche on avalanche, below, Below them still,—the world! You spoke to me; Sweeter than measures of imagined song Before the harp is struck, your voice! “Listen!” you said; And echoing from scar and crater rose The clanging of a chain. You clung to me; You clung to me and spoke not.—I have done.
INGIMUND Egil!
[Springing forward, Egil seizes Thordis’s hand, which he raises to his lips.]
EGIL I love—I love thee!
[He bites her hand. Screaming, she draws away from him and clings to the dwarf.]
THORDIS Arfi!
ARFI [Facing Egil.] Brother!
WULDOR Blood! He hath bit her hand. Ho, sacrilege!
EGIL The maid is mine.
ARFI The maid is Odin’s.
ROLF [Seizing Yorul’s arm, points at Egil.] See! His eyes grow small and blaze!
YORUL He is possessed; Some god afflicts him.
[With a gesture of fury, Egil rushes upon Arfi.]
EGIL Mine!
INGIMUND [Stays him.] The maid is Arfi’s, For she herself hath chosen him.
ARFI [Quietly.] A clout, To stanch the blood.
WULDOR [As Arfi binds her hand, gazes on Thordis, whose eyes have closed.] O fair beyond this world!
EGIL [Clutching the air, in passion for coherence.] A rape! a rape! Thordis for Egil!
YORUL [Drawing.] Thordis For Egil, here!
ARFI’S MEN Thordis for Arfi!
EGIL’S MEN Egil!
INGIMUND Beware! Put back your weapons all, on pain Of Odin’s wrath.
THE FOLK [Murmur.] Remember Odin’s wrath.
EGIL Egil recks not for Odin’s wrath nor will. Who fights for Thordis?
INGIMUND This is blasphemy.
EGIL Who fights with Egil for the maiden?
YORUL I, And all of us.
EGIL’S MEN Till death.
INGIMUND Enough, mine earls! The patience of the lord of peace hath end. Egil, thy words and deed have violated The sacred place of Odin. Thou art banned! The lord hath put thee from his high place. Go! I cast thee forth, and all who follow thee.
THE FOLK [Falling back.] Accurst! accurst!
EGIL [Stands alone in a great circle.] Behold they cast him forth! Egil is banned! Who fights with Egil now?
YORUL I, master!
ONE OF EGIL’S MEN Fly! he is accurst.
[The men hesitate; then all—except twelve, including Yorul, who step into the circle—depart fearfully.]
THE TWELVE Hail, Egil!
[The folk cry out; some go from the scene, others into the temple.]
EGIL [Seizing up with both hands the silver bowl.] Hail, liegemen! Twelve and one, we are enough To vow ourselves to vengeance ’gainst the world. A pledge, here! Ho, a pledge to groom and bride! Drink pledge with me, in Odin’s altar blood. Thordis and vengeance! Hail!
THE TWELVE Thordis and vengeance!
[Egil drinks from the silver bowl.]

Scene II: The interior of Egil’s lodge in the
forest; toward twilight.

The room is roughly built of logs, long cross-beams overhead. From these (in the right corner, back) hang suspended the bodies and skins of antelope, bear, and wild game; and beneath these—piled upon a bench against the wall—a heap of furs and hides. Centre, back, a door. Left, in the earthen floor, a hearth with ashes; above it, a hole in the roof. Beyond this hearth, left, sitting at the open window, Frida, alone. She looks out dreamily toward the forest, from which horns echo and answer. Suddenly she starts up, gazes intently, gives a low cry, and, dodging down as she passes the window, springs across to the heap of hides, among which she conceals herself. After a pause, the door opens; Egil enters, panting—evidently pursued. His brow is bleeding, and he limps. Turning to bar the door, he lets fall a bloodied wolf’s skin. Immediately he snatches it up caressingly; gazes around, listens enraged to the horns, limps swiftly to the hearth, hesitates; then, as a sudden horn-blast resounds close by, falls on his knees, digs ferociously in the ashes with his two hands like an animal, thrusts the wolf’s skin in the cavity, and covers it over with the ashes, carefully replacing the charred brands on top. Swiftly, then, binding up his bleeding brow and thigh, he unbars the door, seizes a whip from a corner, and springs stealthily out of the window. At the same moment, horses are heard to gallop up to the lodge; the door bursts open; Yorul and Rolf appear on the sill.
YORUL He came this way. Look here, Rolf, in the sand— And here: are not these paw-prints?
ROLF May be so. I saw him last back yonder in the forest.
YORUL I saw him slinking hither across the open. Look, here again; here’s blood.
ROLF What! was he wounded?
YORUL Did not you see?
ROLF You know I did not; tell me.
YORUL Twice; once across the eye, once in the shank. ’Twas Ingimund struck both wounds.
ROLF Ingimund!
YORUL Yes, when we left you, Egil rode ahead, I and the others after. We had ridden A half-mile, when I heard our master shout: “Here comes our brother with his bride ahunting.” And sure, there burst into our narrow glen Horse, hound, and horn, the whole bright cavalcade; And Thordis rode ahead, and Arfi next, Last, Ingimund. We reined our horses back—
ROLF Not to pollute the lady with the sight Of your accursed faces, eh?
YORUL Say rather To keep our scanty numbers hid.
ROLF Well—well?
YORUL Well, I had hardly reined back in the wood And Thordis passed me by—Man, it was awful! Under the very hoofs of the dwarf’s horse— Out of the earth, it seemed—there sprang a wolf And bit the stallion’s loin. The horse rolled over— A wolf—a giant wolf!
ROLF What then?
YORUL I say It stood as high as that, Rolf, yet I swear If it were not a wolf, yet what—
ROLF What happened?
YORUL There rang a great shout and the riders all Leapt to the ground where, in the midst of them, Tangled together with the kicking steed, Rolled the huge wolf and Arfi; him the beast Held by the gorge between his grinning jaws, Throttling him like a whelp. But Ingimund—
ROLF Hel have him! Did he save the dwarf?
YORUL He dragged The wolf away, and struck him with his spear Twice, as I told you. But the beast escaped.
ROLF And Arfi lives?
YORUL I know not. I made after The wolf, and met you as I tracked him here.
ROLF But what said Egil?
YORUL I was too amazed To look for him.
ROLF There winds his horn in the wood, And yonder he comes riding with the others. Come; we’ll go meet them. [Exit.] [As Yorul is following Rolf, Frida steps forward.]
FRIDA [Speaks low.] Yorul!
YORUL Her voice! Frida! Frida!
FRIDA Keep me!
YORUL Stand farther off. O girl, what brings you here? How found you out this solitary place?
FRIDA I left my mistress’ side at dawn, and searched All day the forest.
YORUL Little Frida, thou!
FRIDA Come with me!
YORUL Stand away! You have forgot I am accurst. This place is Egil’s lodge, And all who dwell here banned and castaway.
FRIDA Where you are must I fear to be?
YORUL Yes, Frida, For Ingimund has cursed me with my master.
FRIDA Leave him.
YORUL Whom?
FRIDA Leave him, Yorul.
YORUL Leave whom, child?
FRIDA Egil, your master.
YORUL [In amazement.] Frida!
FRIDA Hush! [She goes to the hearth.]
YORUL [In scorn.] Desert My lord! His liegeman, I a traitor!
FRIDA Look. [She brushes back the ashes, revealing the beast’s head.]
YORUL The wolf! By heaven, dead! What—you killed him?
FRIDA No.
YORUL And flayed, the very brute! Here are the marks Of Ingimund, his spear. Saw you the beast Alive?
FRIDA Yes.
YORUL Here?
FRIDA I watched it limping here, Wounded, from out the forest.
YORUL Ha! I said so. Here to the very door-sill?
FRIDA Yes; it pushed The door ajar.
YORUL But—
FRIDA Egil entered.
YORUL Egil!
FRIDA His brow was bleeding and he limped. He buried That thing beneath the ashes, and sprang forth Out at the window.
YORUL Buried this?
FRIDA As dogs Bury their secrets, claw and nozzle.—Yorul!
YORUL You saw?
FRIDA I saw. O Yorul, ’tis a werewolf.
YORUL [Drops the hide and steps back.] Ah! do not name it!
FRIDA Leave him. Come away!
YORUL Bleeding—his brow, you said?
FRIDA Yes; come away!
YORUL So be it.
FRIDA Gracious Odin! he will come.
YORUL Since that wild day he bit your mistress’ hand It hath misgiven me the gods torment him. Once, for seven days, ceaseless he paced this hall, Spoke not, nor ate, but ground and ground his teeth; And in the night, once, when I watched him sleeping, His eyelids lay rolled back and filled with fire.
FRIDA That day the storm burst over Odin’s stone And I beheld those mighty four in flame— Oh, since then, Yorul, they have changed, my mistress Even as your master, save that she has grown Lovelier than herself, and seems to bear About with her the loadstone of desire, For the poor hinds and churls that wait upon her Serve her with souls enamoured. If I thought You would believe my vision, I could tell— But come, Yorul. Yorul! you will not come?
YORUL Never! Stop, Frida; do not name the thing He is. It matters not to me; for me He is my lord, my master; that is all.
FRIDA But if—
YORUL If he were that eternal beast Whom Odin chains until the dawn of doom, Fenris, the wolf—
FRIDA No, say not that!
YORUL I say Still it should matter not; I am his liegeman, His vassal, and his bondslave. I will serve him.
[Enter, with his followers, Egil, cracking his whip.]
EGIL The wolf! Where is your wolf?
ROLF We tracked him here.
EGIL Lies! lies! He lurks yet in the forest.
ERIC [Pointing at Yorul, who holds up the skin.] Look!
THE MEN The wolf!
EGIL [Leaping upon Yorul, flings him to the ground.] Traitor!
YORUL Hold, master—
FRIDA [Coming forward.] Save him!
ROLF Thou! Thou, maiden, here?
FRIDA Oh, help him!
ERIC [With the others’ help, separates the two.] Egil! off!
EGIL A ferret, ho! a ferret, earls; hath scent And sight and hearing—what, for rats? No, no, For wolves!
ROLF [Aside to Eric.] The madness!
YORUL Master, ’tis the wolf. I killed him.
EGIL Killed him? Thou? [Craftily.] What wolf?
YORUL The beast That bit the dwarf.
EGIL Dead; so ’tis dead. Let see! [Taking the pelt from Yorul, he drops it on the hearth.] It should, methinks, be buried too.  Thy kill?
YORUL Mine, Egil.
EGIL [With his foot, covering the pelt with the ashes.] Killed and flayed. Huzza, mine earls, For Yorul and his kill.
THE MEN [Gather round Yorul.] Huzza!
EGIL ’Tis buried. [Aside.] He knows, he knows; I will avenge me. [Looks keenly at Rolf.] Well, What art thou gazing on?
ROLF On nothing.
EGIL Liest, Liest; art gazing on my brow. What, what? ’Tis bandaged, ah! What then? What then, I say?
ERIC Why, he is wounded.
EGIL Traitors! traitors all! Aha, by Loki, but you lie. I fell— You lie! My horse was diked. I fell and gashed me, My brow, my thigh. Why not my brow and thigh? May not a huntsman fall from ’s saddle? Liars! I limp, but not for that. I will limp! [Suddenly changing.] Hark! [He springs to the window.]
YORUL What dost thou hear?
EGIL They smell the blood. They come To dig it up. Their nozzles scour the gorse. Yorul! Yorul!
YORUL [To whom Egil clings.] ’Tis nothing.
EGIL They have found The scent. You cannot make them lose it, Yorul. You loop and loop for miles, plunge in the lake, Swim over, double through the thickets, spring All-feet from rock to rock in the ravine, Crouch in the fern and listen: still you hear them Belling behind you, all their big chests panting, Their red tongues lolled, the great hot breathing,—bloodhounds! Bloodhounds!
ROLF [At the window.] By Odin, see, yonder the dogs Of Ingimund; he hath them in the leash; Behind him, on a litter, they are bringing Arfi, the dwarf.
EGIL Yorul! Keep back the hounds! Mercy! Thou art no kin of theirs. They have No feud of blood with thee. Keep back the hounds! Mercy!
ERIC [Aside to men.] Still madder!
ROLF They are twoscore men, And we a handful; shall we fight?
EGIL Fight, madmen? Have ye not heard the hounds? Keep back the hounds. Go forth and bind their leashes to the trees. Bind them, and guard them, every slave of you! Go! Go!
ROLF What! fear their dogs?
ERIC Yorul, his eyes— They burn!
YORUL Be patient, master!
EGIL Treachery! You’ve lured ’em on. They come to dig it out; They smell the wounds. Ye have betrayed me.
YORUL Men, Come forth and let us bind the hounds.
EGIL [Swinging his whip.] Slaves! cowards! Traitors! the lash shall teach you. [Striking Rolf.] Bind the hounds!
ROLF This goes too far.
YORUL [Imploring.] Come!
EGIL Mercy! Ah! their fangs! Their fangs! Devils, go forth and bind the hounds. [Follows the men, lashing them.]
ERIC By Loki!
YORUL [Aside.] Humour him.
[The men go forth, whipped wildly by Egil, who sinks exhausted by the closed door.]
EGIL Keep back the hounds— Their fangs!
YORUL [Outside.] Fear nothing; we will bind them.
FRIDA [Starts for the door.] Yorul!
[Egil, rolling in her way, gazes at her, and rises, panting; she draws back.]
EGIL Thou art the maid of Yorul.
FRIDA I am his.
EGIL Who hid the wolf—he knows.
FRIDA He knows.
EGIL His maiden! Shalt make a fair revenge.
FRIDA Ah! Save me, Yorul! [She faints.]
EGIL Yorul, a dear revenge! [Lifting her in his arms, he bears her off, left.] A lair! a lair!
[A pause; sunset glows through the window; the outer door is partly opened by Rolf, who calls in.]
ROLF O Egil! Ingimund demands to enter And rest here for the night. Thy brother’s wound Grows worse; they doubt his life. Shall we resist them, Or welcome? They are armed.—Egil!—Not here?
[Exit, closing the door. Another pause; the room grows dimmer; Egil slowly reënters, left.]
EGIL Now will I sleep.—The time is strangely sweet, Blank, and untroubled. Soon it will be starlight. My limbs are filled with peace, mine ears with sounds Of brooks and breezy leafage murmurous, Mine eyes with slumber. Well, I will lie down And sleep.
[As Egil goes to the hearth, enter Ingimund, Thordis, Wuldor, and a number of Arfi’s men, carrying a litter, on which lies Arfi; these accompanied by Yorul, Rolf, Eric, and Egil’s men.]
INGIMUND Slow; bear him softly, Wuldor. Let The others stay without, and place our men Most carefully on guard. For this one night, Yorul, thy master’s bann shall be suspended. The need is great.
THORDIS [By the litter.] Father, he hath grown paler.
INGIMUND Here set him down.
EGIL [Gazing at Thordis.] Dreaming!
THORDIS Gently! his side.
WULDOR Lady, what more to do?
ARFI’S MEN [Some kneel, some kiss her robe; all give to her their eyes and hearts unconsciously.] What more?
THORDIS Bring water.
YORUL [Aside.] Master, the hounds are tethered. Where is Frida?
EGIL Dreaming! still dreaming!
YORUL Frida?
EGIL Wake me not.
THORDIS Arfi! O gentle earl, look up! Let not Your ears be as the turf to our great sorrow. Arfi! I love you; live!
YORUL [To Rolf.] Hast thou seen Frida?
ROLF No. [Exit Yorul, left; Egil approaches Arfi’s litter.]
EGIL Will he die?
INGIMUND The virus of the wolf Corrupts his blood; yet he may live.
EGIL May live.
WULDOR O God! I could take heart to bear this woe But that the damnèd beast that bit my master Still breathes.
INGIMUND I wounded him.
WULDOR Yet he escaped us.
ROLF You, Wuldor, but not us. The wolf is dead; Behold his skin! [Reënter Yorul. He staggers forward.]
INGIMUND Who killed him?
ERIC Egil’s man Yorul.
INGIMUND Hail, Yorul! This deed shall atone For much of thy defiance and thy master’s. Well done!
YORUL [Wildly.] A lie! a lie! the wolf still lives.
ALL Lives?
YORUL There!
EGIL [Crouching back.] Ai! anarch!
YORUL [Grappling Egil, tears off his bandages.] Look! Look, Ingimund! The wounds: you struck them with your hunting-spear.
INGIMUND Forehead and thigh!
YORUL He sprang on Arfi’s horse, And bit his brother’s throat—his murderer. There lies his changeling skin. He buried it Here in the ashes.
THE MEN [Falling away.] Werewolf! Werewolf!
INGIMUND Earl, Thou art accused of sin unnameable. Speak: art thou guilty?
EGIL [Glares about him in fear and rage.] Ai! Ai! anarch!
INGIMUND Demon!
YORUL Ah, Frida! Master—Frida!
ROLF What of her? Not dead?
YORUL No, no; would God she were, and I! Frida! [Exit, left.]
INGIMUND Destroy the wolf.
THORDIS [To Wuldor, who is about to attack Egil with a spear.] Stop, earl! Your master; He has heard all.
ARFI [Raises his body painfully on the litter.] My brother—Egil—spare him.
WULDOR But ’tis a werewolf!
INGIMUND He has sought your life.
ARFI The life he sought to take I give to him. My strength is little; if you love me, spare him.
WULDOR ’Tis madness!
THORDIS Nay, ’tis mercy, but to you Reason is vengeance. Father, look; he sinks Again. Will you deny the prayer of him— [Lowering her voice.] Perchance who dies.
ARFI [Faintly.] Egil!
INGIMUND Egil shall live; So much I grant thee, Arfi, but no more. Henceforth thy brother shall be cast in chains, Until the demon-beast that plagues his body Is exorcised and tamed.—Lay on the chains.
[As the men approach with fetters, Egil seizes a chain from one, and, springing fearfully to Thordis’s side, there crouches and lifts it to her.]
EGIL Not those—but thou!
[Thordis puts the chain upon Egil.]