’Twas not therefore that my noble husband took the Cross.
Not therefore?
No; it was my sin he took upon his strong, loving shoulders; ’twas that he went to wash away in Jordan stream; ’twas for that he bled.
[Softly.] Then he knew all.
From the first. And Bishop Nicholas knew it, for to him I confessed. And there was one other man that came to know it, though how I cannot guess.
Who?
Vegard Væradal.
Vegard!
He whispered a mocking word of me into my husband’s ear; and thereupon Andres Skialdarband drew his sword, and slew him on the spot.
He kept ward over her whom I betrayed and forgot.—And wherefore seek you me now?
To bring you the last sacrifice.
What mean you?
[Points to the Priest who stands by the door.] Look at him!—Peter, my son, come hither!
Your son——!
And yours, King Skule!
[Half bewildered.] Ingeborg!
[Peter approaches in silent emotion, and throws himself before King Skule.
Take him! For twenty years has he been the light and comfort of my life.—Now are you King of Norway; the King’s son must enter on his heritage; I have no longer any right to him.
[Raises him up, in a storm of joy.] Here, to my heart, you whom I have yearned for so burningly! [Presses him in his arms, lets him go, looks at him, and embraces him again.] My son! My son! I have a son! Ha-ha-ha! who can stand against me now? [Goes over to Ingeborg and seizes her hand.] And you, you give him to me, Ingeborg! You take not back your word? You give him to me indeed?
Heavy is the sacrifice, and scarce had I strength to make it, but that Bishop Nicholas sent him to me, bearing a letter with tidings of Andres Skialdarband’s death. ’Twas the Bishop that laid on me the heavy sacrifice, to atone for all my sin.
Then is the sin blotted out, and henceforth he is mine alone; is it not so, mine alone?
Yes; but one promise I crave of you.
Heaven and earth, crave all you will!
He is pure as a lamb of God, as I now give him into your hands. ’Tis a perilous path that leads up to the throne; let him not take hurt to his soul. Hear you, King Skule: let not my child take hurt to his soul!
That I promise and swear to you!
[Seizes his arm.] From the moment you mark that his soul suffers harm, let him rather die!
Rather die! I promise and swear it!
Then shall I be of good cheer as I go back to Halogaland.
Ay, you may be of good cheer.
There will I repent and pray, till the Lord calls me. And when we meet before God, he shall come back to me pure and blameless.
Pure and blameless! [Turning to Peter.] Let me look at you! Ay, your mother’s features and mine; you are he for whom I have longed so sorely.
My father, my great, noble father! Let me live and fight for you! Let your cause be mine; and be your cause what it may—I know that I am fighting for the right!
[With a cry of joy.] You trust in me! You trust in me!
Immovably!
Then all is well; then am I surely saved! Listen: you shall cast off the cowl; the Archbishop shall loose you from your vows; the King’s son shall wield the sword, shall go forward unwavering to might and honour.
Together with you, my noble father! We will go together!
[Drawing the youth close up to himself.] Ay, together, we two alone!
[To herself.] To love, to sacrifice all and be forgotten, that is my saga.[41]
Now shall a great king’s-work be done in Norway! Listen, Peter, my son! We will awaken the whole people, and gather it into one; the man of Viken and the Trönder, the Halogalander and the Agdeman, the Uplander and the Sogndaleman, all shall be one great family! Then shall you see how the land will come to flourish!
What a great and dizzy thought——
Do you grasp it?
Yes—yes!—Clearly——!
And have you faith in it?
Yes, yes; for I have faith in you!
[Wildly.] Håkon Håkonsson must die.
If you will it, then it is right that he die.
’Twill cost blood; but that we cannot heed!
The blood is not wasted that flows in your cause.
All the might shall be yours when I have built up the kingdom. You shall sit on the throne with the circlet on your brow, with the purple mantle flowing wide over your shoulders; all men in the land shall bow before you——[The sounds of distant horns[42] are heard.] Ha! what was that? [With a cry.] The Birchleg host! What was it Paul Flida said——?
[Enters and cries:] The hour is upon us, King Skule!
[Bewildered.] The Birchlegs! King Håkon’s host! Where are they?
They are swarming in thousands down over the Ekeberg.
Sound the call to arms! Sound, sound! Give counsel; where shall we meet them?
All the churches stand open for us.
’Tis of the Birchlegs I ask——?
For them all the bridges stand open.
Unhappy man, what have you done?done?
Obeyed my King!
My son! My son! Woe is me; I have lost your kingdom!
No, you will conquer! So great a king’s-thought cannot die!
Peace, peace! [Horns and shouts are heard, nearer at hand.] To horse! To arms! More is here at stake than the life and death of men!
[Rushes out by the back; the others follow him.
A street in Oslo. On each side, low wooden houses, with porches. At the back, St. Hallvard’s churchyard, enclosed by a high wall with a gate. On the left, at the end of the wall, is seen the church, the chief portal of which stands open. It is still night; after a little, the day begins to dawn. The alarm-bell is ringing: far away on the right are heard battle-shouts and confused noises.
[Enters from the right, blows his horn, and shouts.] To arms! To arms, all King Skule’s men!
[Blows his horn again, and proceeds on his way; presently he is heard blowing and shouting in the next street.
[Appears at a house door on the right.] Great God of mercy, what is astir?
[Who has come out, half dressed, from a house on the other side of the street.] The Birchlegs are in the town! Now will Skule have his reward for all his misdeeds.
[Enters with some others, bearing their cloaks and weapons on their arms, from a side street on the left.] Where are the Birchlegs?
[Coming from a house on the right.] I know not!
Hist! Listen!—They must be down at the Geite-bridge!
Off to the Geite-bridge then!
[They all rush out to the right; a townsman comes running in from the same side.
Hey, neighbour, whence come you?
From down at the Lo-river; there’s ugly work there.
St. Olaf and St. Hallvard! Is it the Birchlegs, or who is it?
Who else but the Birchlegs! King Håkon is with them; the whole fleet is laying in to the wharves; but he himself landed with his best men out at Ekeberg.
Then will he take revenge for the slaughter at Låka!
Ay, be sure of that.
See, see! The Vårbælgs are flying already!
Into the church! None can stand against the Birchlegs as they lay about them to-night.
[The troop rushes into the church and bars the door on the inside.
[Looking out to the right.] I see a standard far down the street; it must be King Håkon’s.
See, see, how the Vårbælgs are running!
Let us take to the church and pray for grace.
’Tis barred! ’tis barred!
Up over Martestokke then!
Where is King Skule?
I know not. Away! yonder I see the Birchlegs standard!
Håkon enters from the right with his Standard-bearer, Gregorius Jonsson, Dagfinn the Peasant, and several other men.
Hark to the war-cry! Skule is gathering his men behind the churchyard.
[Calls from his porch, to Håkon.] Take heed for yourself, dear my lord; the Vargbælgs are fierce, now they are fighting for life.
Is it you, old Guthorm Erlendsson? You have fought both for my father and for my grandfather.
Would to God I could fight for you as well.
For that you are too old, and there is no need; men pour in upon me from all sides.
[Pointing off over the wall to the right.] There comes the Duke’s standard!
The Duke himself! He rides his white war-horse.
We must hinder his passage through the gate here!
Wind the horn, wind the horn! [The Hornblower does so.] You blew better, you whelp, when you blew for money on Bergen wharf.
[The Hornblower winds another blast, louder than the first; many men come rushing in.
[From the right, fleeing towards the church, pursued by a Birchleg.] Spare my life! Spare my life!
Not though you sat on the altar! [Cuts him down.] ’Tis a costly cloak you wear, methinks ’twill fit me well. [Is about to take the cloak, but utters a cry and casts away his sword.] My lord King! Not another stroke will I strike for you!
You say that in such an hour as this?
Not another stroke!
[Cuts him down.] Well, you may e’en let it alone.
[Pointing to the dead Vårbælg.] Methought I had done enough when I slew my own brother.
His brother!
What! [Goes up to the Vårbælg’s body.
Is it true?
I fear me it is.
[Shaken.] Here see we what a war we are waging. Brother against brother, father against son;—by God Almighty, this must have an end!
There comes the Duke, in full fight with Earl Knut’s troop!
Bar the gate against him, king’s men!
On the other side of the wall, the combatants come in sight. The Vårbælgs are forcing their way towards the left, driving the Birchlegs back, foot by foot. King Skule rides his white war-horse, with his sword drawn. Peter walks at his side, holding the horse’s bridle, and with his left hand uplifting a crucifix. Paul Flida bears Skule’s standard, which is blue, with a golden lion rampant, without the axe.[43]
Cut them down! Spare no man! There is come a new heir[44] to the throne of Norway!
A new heir, said he?
Skule Bårdsson, let us share the kingdom!
All or nought!
Think of the Queen, your daughter!
I have a son, I have a son! I think of none but him!
I too have a son;—if I fall the kingdom will be his!
Slay the King-child, wherever you find it! Slay it on the throne; slay it at the altar; slay it—slay it in the Queen’s arms!
There did you utter your own doom!
[Slashing about him.] Slay, slay without mercy! King Skule has a son! Slay, slay!
The Vargbælgs are hewing their way through!
Ay, but only to flee.
Yes, by Heaven,—the other gate stands open; they are fleeing already!
Up towards Martestokke. [Calls out.] After them, after them, Earl Knut! Take vengeance for the slaughter at Låka!
You heard it: he proclaimed my child an outlaw—my innocent child, Norway’s chosen king after me!
Ay, ay, we heard it!
And what is the punishment for such a crime?
Death!
Then must he die! [Raises his hand to make oath.] Here I swear it: Skule Bårdsson shall die, wherever he be met on unconsecrated ground!
’Tis every true man’s duty to slay him.
[From the left.] Duke Skule has taken to flight!
The Birchlegs have conquered!
What way?
Past Martestokke, up towards Eidsvold; most of them had horses waiting up in the streets, else had not one escaped with his life.
Thanks be to God that has helped us yet again! Now may the Queen safely come ashore from the fleet.
[Points off to the right.] She has already landed, my lord; there she comes!
[To those nearest him.] The heaviest task is yet before me; she is a loving daughter;—listen—no word to her of the danger that threatens her child. Swear to me, one and all, to keep ward over your King’s son; but let her know nothing.
[Softly.] We swear it.
[Enters, with ladies and attendants, from the right.] Håkon, my husband! Heaven has shielded you; you have conquered and are unhurt!
Yes, I have conquered. Where is the child?
On board the King’s ship, in the hands of trusty men.
Go more of you thither.
Håkon, where is—Duke Skule?
He has made for the Uplands.
He lives, then!—My husband, may I thank God that he lives?
[In painful agitation.] Hear me, Margrete: you have been a faithful wife to me, you have followed me through good hap and ill, you have been unspeakably rich in love;—now must I cause you a heavy sorrow; I am loath to do it; but I am King, therefore must I——
[In suspense.] Has it to do with—the Duke?
Yes. No bitterer lot could befall me than to live my life far from you; but if you think it must be so after what I now tell you—if you feel that you can no longer sit by my side, no longer look at me without turning pale—well, we must even part—live each alone—and I shall not blame you for it.
Part from you! How can you think such a thought? Give me your hand——!
Touch it not!—It has even now been lifted in oath——
In oath?
An oath that set its sacred seal upon a death-warrant.
[With a shriek.] My father! Oh, my father!
Yes, Margrete—his King has doomed your father to death.
Then well I know he has committed a greater crime than when he took the kingly title.
That has he;—and now, if you feel that we must part, so let it be.
[Coming close to him, firmly.] We can never part! I am your wife, nought else in the world but your wife!
Are you strong enough? Did you hear and understand all? I have doomed your father.
I heard and understood. You have doomed my father.
And you ask not to know what was his crime?
’Tis enough that you know it.
But it was to death that I doomed him!
[Kneels before the King, and kisses his hand.] My husband and noble lord, your doom is just!
A room in the palace at Nidaros. The entrance door is on the right; in front, on the same side, a window; to the left a smaller door. It is after night-fall. Paul Flida, Bård Bratte, and several of King Skule’s principal followers are standing at the window and looking upward.