Chapter III: Part 3

CATILINE. [Looks at him calmly.] No, you were but a tool. You acted well--

CURIUS. Oh, let me die and expiate my sin!

CATILINE. I have forgiven you.

CATILINE. [As he goes.] But one thing now Is there to choose!

CURIUS. [Jumps up.] Yes, flight!

CATILINE. Heroic death!

[He goes away through the forest.]

CURIUS. 'Tis all in vain! Ruin awaits him here. This mildness is a tenfold punishment! I'll follow him; one thing I shall be granted:-- To perish fighting by the hero's side!

[He rushes out. LENTULUS and TWO GLADIATORS come stealing among the trees.]

LENTULUS. [Softly.] Some one was speaking--

ONE OF THE GLADIATORS. Aye, but now all's quiet.

THE OTHER GLADIATOR. Perchance it was the sentinel relieved Of duty.

LENTULUS. That may be. This is the place; Here shall you wait. Are both your weapons sharp, Ground for their purpose?

THE FIRST GLADIATOR. Bright as is the lightning!

THE SECOND GLADIATOR. Mine, too, cuts well. In the last Roman games Two gladiators died beneath this sword.

LENTULUS. Then stand you ready in this thicket here. And when a man, whom I shall designate, Goes toward the tent, then shall you rush out quick And strike him from behind.

THE FIRST GLADIATOR. It shall be done!

[Both GLADIATORS conceal themselves; LENTULUS goes spying around.]

LENTULUS. [To himself.] It is a daring game I here attempt;-- Yet must it be performed this very night, If done at all.--If Catiline should fall, No one can lead them on except myself; I'll purchase them with golden promises, And march without delay upon the city, Where still the senate, struck with panic fear, Neglects to arm itself against the danger.

[He goes in among the trees.]

THE FIRST GLADIATOR. [Softly to the other.] Who is this stranger we must fall upon?

THE SECOND GLADIATOR. What matters it to us who he may be? Lentulus pays our hire; the blame is his: He must himself defend the act we do.

LENTULUS. [Returns quickly.] Stand ready now; the man we wait is coming!

[LENTULUS and the GLADIATORS lie in wait among the bushes.]

[Soon after, CATILINE comes through the forest and goes toward the tent.]

LENTULUS. [Whispering.] Out! Fall upon him! Strike him from behind!

[All three rush on CATILINE.]

CATILINE. [Draws his sword and defends himself.] Ah, scoundrels,--do you dare to--?

LENTULUS. [To the GLADIATORS.] Cut him down!

CATILINE. [Recognizes him.] You, Lentulus, would murder Catiline?

THE FIRST GLADIATOR. [Terrified.] He it is!

THE SECOND GLADIATOR. [Draws back.] Catiline! I'll never use The sword on him. Come flee!

[Both GLADIATORS make their escape.]

LENTULUS. Then die by mine!

[They fight; CATILINE strikes the sword from the hand of Lentulus; the latter tries to escape, but CATILINE holds him fast.]

CATILINE. Murderer! Traitor!

LENTULUS. [Entreating.] Mercy, Catiline!

CATILINE. I spell your plans upon your countenance. You wished to murder me, and put yourself Into the chieftain's place. Was it not so?

LENTULUS. Yes, Catiline, it was even so!

CATILINE. [Looks at him with repressed scorn.] What then? If 'tis the power you want,--so let it be!

LENTULUS. Explain,--what do you mean?

CATILINE. I shall resign; And you may lead the army--

LENTULUS. [Surprised.] You resign?

CATILINE. I shall. But be prepared for all events; Know this--our undertaking is revealed: The senate is informed of every plan; Its troops hem us about--

LENTULUS. What do you say?

CATILINE. Now shall I call a council of our friends; Do you come too,--announce your leadership; I shall resign.

LENTULUS. [Detains him.] One moment, Catiline!

CATILINE. Your time is precious; ere the dawn of day You may expect an onslaught--

LENTULUS. [Anxiously.] Hear me, friend! Surely you jest? It is impossible--

CATILINE. Our project, I have told you, is betrayed. Show now your firmness and sagacity!

LENTULUS. Betrayed? Then woe to us!

CATILINE. [Smiles scornfully.] You paltry coward! You tremble _now_;--yet _you_ would murder _me_; You think a man like you is called to rule?

LENTULUS. Forgive me, Catiline!

CATILINE. Make your escape By hurried flight, if still it can be done.

LENTULUS. Ah, you permit me then--?

CATILINE. And did you think It was my purpose to forsake this post In such an hour as this? You little know me.

LENTULUS. O, Catiline--!

CATILINE. [Coldly.] Waste not your moments here! Seek your own safety;--I know how to die.

[He turns away from him.]

LENTULUS. [To himself.] I thank you for these tidings, Catiline;-- I shall make use of them to serve my end. 'Twill stand me in good stead now that I know This region well; I'll seek the hostile army And guide it hitherward by secret paths, To your destruction and to my salvation.-- The serpent that you trample in the dust So arrogantly still retains its sting!

[He goes.]

CATILINE. [After a pause.] This is the trust I built my hopes upon! Thus one by one they leave me. Oh ye gods! Treason and cowardice alone stir up The sullen currents of their slavish souls. Oh, what a fool am I with all my hopes! I would destroy yon viper's nest, that Rome,-- Which is long since a heap of sunken ruins.

[The sound of arms is heard approaching; he listens.]

CATILINE. They come, they come! Still are there valiant men Among them. Ah, the joyous clang of steel! The merry clash of shields against each other! Anew the fire kindles in my breast; The reckoning is near,--the mighty hour That settles every doubt. I hail the day!

[MANLIUS, STATILIUS, GABINIUS, and many OTHER CONSPIRATORS come through the forest.]

MANLIUS. Here, Catiline, come your friends and comrades true; In camp I spread the alarm, as you commanded--

CATILINE. And have you told them--?

MANLIUS. Yes,--they know our plight.

STATILIUS. We know it well, and we shall follow you With sword in hand to fight for life and death.

CATILINE. I thank you all, my comrades brave in arms! But do not think, my friends, that life or death Is ours to choose;--our only choice is this: Death in heroic battle with the foe, Or death by torture when like savage beasts We shall be hounded down relentlessly. Ah, which do you prefer? To risk in flight A wretched life prolonged in misery, Or like your proud and worthy sires of old To perish nobly on the battlefield?

GABINIUS. We choose to fight and die!

MANY VOICES. Lead us to death!

CATILINE. Then let us be off! Through death we shall achieve The glorious life of immortality. Our fall, our name, through distant generations Shall be proclaimed with lofty pride--

FURIA. [Calls out behind him among the trees.] --O terror!

SOME VOICES. Behold,--a woman--!

CATILINE. [Startled.] Furia! You--you here? What brought you here?

FURIA. Ah, I must lead you on To your great goal.

CATILINE. Where is my goal, then? Speak!

FURIA. Each mortal seeks his goal in his own way. And you seek yours through ever hopeless strife; The struggle yields defeat and certain death.

CATILINE. Yet also honor and immortal fame! Go, woman! Great and noble is this hour! My heart is closed against your raucous cries.

[AURELIA appears in the door of the tent.]

AURELIA. My Catiline--!

[She stops, terrified at the sight of the throng.]

CATILINE. [Painfully.] Aurelia,--oh, Aurelia!

AURELIA. What is the trouble? All this stir in camp-- What is on foot here?

CATILINE. You I could forget! What will your fate be now--?

FURIA. [Whispers scornfully, unnoticed by AURELIA.] Ah, Catiline, Already wavering in your high resolve? Is this your death defiance?

CATILINE. [Flaring up.] No, by the gods!

AURELIA. [Comes nearer.] Oh, speak, beloved! Keep me in doubt no longer--

FURIA. [In an undertone behind him.] Flee with your wife--the while your comrades die!

MANLIUS. Tarry no longer; lead us out to battle--

CATILINE. Oh, what a choice! And yet,--here is no choice;-- I must go on,--I dare not stop midway.

CATILINE. [Calls out.] Then follow me to battle on the plain!

AURELIA. [Throws herself in his arms.] Catiline,--do not leave me,--take me with you!

CATILINE. No, stay, Aurelia!

FURIA. [As before.] Take her, Catiline! Worthy your death will be, as was your life, When you are vanquished--in a woman's arms!

CATILINE. [Thrusts AURELIA aside.] Away, you who would rob me of my fame! Death shall o'ertake me in the midst of men. I have a life to atone, a name to clear--

FURIA. Just so; just so, my gallant Catiline!

CATILINE. All things I will uproot from out my soul That bind me to my life of empty dreams! All that is of the past shall henceforth be As if 'twere not--

AURELIA. Oh, cast me not away! By all the love I bear you, Catiline,-- I beg you, I adjure,--let us not part!

CATILINE. My heart is dead, my sight is blind to love. From life's great mockery I turn my eyes; And gaze but on the dim, yet mighty star Of fame that is to be!

AURELIA. O gods of mercy!

[She leans faint against the tree outside the tent.]

CATILINE. [To the Warriors.] And now away!

MANLIUS. The din of arms I hear!

SEVERAL VOICES. They come, they come.

CATILINE. Good! We will heed their warning. Long was our night of shame; our dawn is near--. To battle in the crimson sky of morning! By Roman sword, with Roman fortitude, The last of Romans perish in their blood!

[They rush out through the forest; a great alarm, rent with battle-cries, is heard from within the camp.]

FURIA. He is gone forever. My great task in life is done. Cold and rigid we shall find him in the morning sun.

AURELIA. [Aside.] In his passion-glutted bosom then should love no longer dwell? Was it nothing but a dream? His angry words I heard full well.

FURIA. Hark, the weapons clash; already at the brink of death he stands; Soon a noiseless shadow he will hasten toward the spirit lands.

AURELIA. [Startled.] Who are you, prophetic voice, that yonder comes to me, Like the night-owl's cry of warning from some far-off tree! Are you from the clammy underworld of spirits come Hence to lead my Catiline into your gloomy home?

FURIA. Home is ay the journey's goal, and all his wanderings lay Through the reeking swamps of life--

AURELIA. But only for a day. Free and noble was his heart, his spirit strong and true, Till around it serpent-like a poisoned seedling grew.

FURIA. So the plane-tree, too, keeps fresh and green its leafy dress, Till its trunk is smothered in a clinging vine's caress.

AURELIA. Now did you betray your source. For time and time again Echoed from the lips of Catiline this one refrain. You the serpent are, who poisoned all my joy in life, Steeled his heart against my kindness through your deadly strife. From those waking night-dreams well I know your infamy, Like a threat I see you stand between my love and me. With my husband at my side I cherished in my breast Longings for a tranquil life, a home of peace and rest. Ah, a garden-bed I planted in his weary heart; As its fairest ornament our love I hedged apart. Flower and all have you uprooted with malignant hand; In the dust it lies where thriving it did lately stand.

FURIA. Foolish weakling; you would guide the steps of Catiline? Do you not perceive his heart was never wholly thine? Think you that in such a soil your flower can survive? In the sunny springtime only violets can thrive, While the henbane grows in strength beneath a clouded grey; And his soul was long ago a clouded autumn day. All is lost to you. Soon dies the spark within his breast; As a victim of revenge he shall go to his rest.

AURELIA. [With increasing vehemence.] Thus he shall not perish; no, by all the gods of day! To his weary heart my tears will somehow force a way. If I find him pale and gory on the battlefield, I shall throw my arms about him and his bosom shield, Breathe upon his speechless lips the love within my soul, Ease the pain within him and his suffering mind console. Herald of revenge, your victim from you I shall wrest, Bind him to the land of sunshine, to a home of rest; If his eyes be dimmed already, stilled his beating heart, Linked together arm in arm we shall this life depart. Grant me, gods of mercy, in return for what I gave, By the side of him I love, the stillness of the grave.

[She goes.]

FURIA. [Gazes after her.] Seek him, deluded soul;--I have no fear; I hold the victory safe within my hands.

FURIA. The roar of battle grows; its rumble blends With death-cries and the crash of broken shields. Is he perchance now dying? Still alive? Oh, blessed is this hour! The sinking moon Secludes herself in massive thunderclouds. One moment more it will be night anew Ere comes the day;--and with the coming day All will be over. In the dark he dies, As in the dark he lived. O blessed hour!

[She listens.]

FURIA. Now sweeps the wind by, like an autumn gust, And lapses slowly in the far-off distance. The ponderous armies slowly sweep the plain. Like angry ocean billows on they roll, Unyielding, trampling down the fallen dead. Out yonder I hear whines and moans and sighs,-- The final lullaby,--wherewith they lull Themselves to rest and all their pallid brothers. Now speaks the night-owl forth to welcome them Into the kingdom of the gloomy shadows.

FURIA. [After a pause.] How still it is. Now is he mine at last,-- Aye, mine alone, and mine forevermore. Now we can journey toward the river Lethe-- And far beyond where never dawns the day. Yet first I'll seek his bleeding body yonder, And freely glut my eyes upon those features, Hated and yet so fair, ere they be marred By rising sunshine and by watchful vultures.

[She starts to go, but is suddenly startled at something.]

FURIA. What is that gliding o'er the meadow yonder? Is it the misty vapors of the moor That form a picture in the morning chill? Now it draws near.--The shade of Catiline! His spectre--! I can see his misty eye, His broken shield, his sword bereft of blade. Ah, he is surely dead; one thing alone,-- Remarkable,--his wound I do not see.

[CATILINE comes through the forest, pale and weary, with drooping head and troubled countenance.]

CATILINE. [To himself.] "Perish thou shalt by deed thine own, And yet a stranger's hand shall fell thee." Such was his prophecy. Now am I fallen-- Though struck by no one. Who will solve the riddle?

FURIA. I greet you after battle, Catiline!

CATILINE. Ah, who are you?

FURIA. I am a shadow's shadow.

CATILINE. You, Furia,--you it is! You welcome me?

FURIA. Welcome at last into our common home! Now we can go--two shades--to Charon's bark. Yet first--accept the wreath of victory.

[She picks some flowers, which she weaves into a wreath during the following.]

CATILINE. What make you there?

FURIA. Your brow I shall adorn. But wherefore come you hither all alone? A chieftain's ghost ten thousand dead should follow. Then where are all your comrades, Catiline?

CATILINE. They slumber, Furia!

FURIA. Ah, they slumber still?

CATILINE. They slumber still,--and they will slumber long. They slumber all. Steal softly through the forest, Peer out across the plain,--disturb them not! There will you find them in extended ranks. They fell asleep lulled by the clang of steel; They fell asleep,--and wakened not, as I did, When in the distant hills the echoes died. A shadow now you called me. True, I am A shadow of myself. But do not think Their slumber yonder is so undisturbed And void of dreams. Oh, do not think so!

FURIA. Speak! What may your comrades dream?

CATILINE. Ah, you shall hear.-- I led the battle with despairing heart, And sought my death beneath the play of swords. To right and left I saw my comrades fall; Statilius first,--then one by one the rest; My Curius fell trying to shield my breast; All perished there beneath Rome's flaming sword,-- The sword that me alone passed by untouched. Yes, Catiline was spared by the sword of Rome. Half-stunned I stood there with my broken shield, Aware of nothing as the waves of battle Swept o'er me. I recovered first my senses When all grew still again, and I looked up And saw the struggle seething--far behind me! How long I stood there? Only this I know,-- I stood alone among my fallen comrades. But there was life within those misty eyes; The corners of their mouths betrayed a smile; And they addressed their smile and gaze to me, Who stood alone erect among the dead,-- Who had for ages fought for them and Rome,-- Who stood there lonely and disgraced, untouched By Roman sword. Then perished Catiline.

FURIA. False have you read your fallen comrades' dreams; False have you judged the reason of your fall. Their smiles and glances were but invitations To sleep with them--

CATILINE. Yes, if I only could!

FURIA. Have courage,--spectre of a former hero; Your hour of rest is near. Come, bend your head;-- I shall adorn you with the victor's crown.

[She offers the wreath to him.]

CATILINE. Bah,--what is that? A poppy-wreath--!

FURIA. [With wild glee.] Well, yes; Are not such poppies pretty? They will glow Around your forehead like a fringe of blood.

CATILINE. No, cast the wreath away! I hate this crimson.

FURIA. [Laughs aloud.] Ah, you prefer the pale and feeble shades? Good! I shall bring the garland of green rushes That Sylvia carried in her dripping locks, The day she came afloat upon the Tiber?

CATILINE. Alas, what visions--!

FURIA. Shall I bring you rather The thorny brambles from the market-place, With crimson-spots, the stain of civic blood, That flowed at your behest, my Catiline?

CATILINE. Enough!

FURIA. Or would you like a crown of leaves From the old winter oak near mother's home, That withered when a young dishonored woman With piercing cries distraught leaped in the river?

CATILINE. Pour out at once your measures of revenge Upon my head--

FURIA. I am your very eye,-- Your very memory, your very doom.

CATILINE. But wherefore now?

FURIA. His goal at length attained, The traveller spent looks back from whence he came.

CATILINE. Have I then reached my goal? Is this the goal? I am no longer living,--nor yet buried. Where lies the goal?

FURIA. In sight,--if you but will.

CATILINE. A will I have no longer; my will perished When all the things I willed once, came to naught.

CATILINE. [Waves his arms.] Away,--away from me, ye sallow shades! What claim you here of me, ye men and women? I cannot give you--! Oh, this multitude--!

FURIA. To earth your spirit still is closely bound! These thousand-threaded nets asunder tear! Come, let me press this wreath upon your locks,-- 'Tis gifted with a strong and soothing virtue; It kills the memory, lulls the soul to rest!

CATILINE. [Huskily.] It kills the memory? Dare I trust your word? Then press your poison-wreath upon my forehead.

FURIA. [Puts the wreath on his head.] Now it is yours! Thus decked you shall appear Before the prince of darkness, Catiline!

CATILINE. Away! away! I yearn to go below;-- I long to pass into the spirit lands. Let us together go! What holds me here? What stays my steps? Behind me here I feel Upon the morning sky a misty star;-- It holds me in the land of living men; It draws me as the moon attracts the sea.

FURIA. Away! Away!

CATILINE. It beckons and it twinkles. I cannot follow you until this light Is quenched entirely, or by clouds obscured,-- I see it clearly now; 'tis not a star; It is a human heart, throbbing and warm; It binds me here; it fascinates and draws me As draws the evening star the eye of children.

FURIA. Then stop this beating heart!

CATILINE. What do you mean?

FURIA. The dagger in your belt--. A single thrust,-- The star will vanish and the heart will die That stand between us like an enemy.

CATILINE. Ah, I should--? Sharp and shining is the dagger--

CATILINE. [With a cry.] Aurelia! O Aurelia, where--where are you? Were you but here--! No, no,--I will not see you! And yet methinks all would be well again, And peace would come, if I could lay my head Upon your bosom and repent--repent!

FURIA. And what would you repent?

CATILINE. Oh, everything! That I have been, that I have ever lived.

FURIA. 'Tis now too late--too late! Whence now you stand No path leads back again.--Go try it, fool! Now am I going home. Place you your head Upon her breast and see if there you find The blessed peace your weary soul desires.

FURIA. [With increasing wildness.] Soon will the thousand dead rise up again; Dishonored women will their numbers join; And all,--aye, they will all demand of you The life, the blood, the honor you destroyed. In terror you will flee into the night,-- Will roam about the earth on every strand, Like old Actean, hounded by his dogs,-- A shadow hounded by a thousand shades!

CATILINE. I see it, Furia. Here I have no peace. I am an exile in the world of light! I'll go with you into the spirit realms;-- The bond that binds me I will tear asunder.

FURIA. Why grope you with the dagger?

CATILINE. She shall die.

[The lightning strikes and the thunder rolls.]

FURIA. The mighty powers rejoice at your resolve!-- See, Catiline,--see, yonder comes your wife.

[AURELIA comes through the forest in an anxious search.]

AURELIA. Where shall I find him? Where--where can he be! I've searched in vain among the dead--

[Discovers him.]

AURELIA. Great heavens,-- My Catiline!

[She rushes toward him.]

CATILINE. [Bewildered.] Speak not that name again!

AURELIA. You are alive?

[Is about to throw herself in his arms.]

CATILINE. [Thrusting her aside.] Away! I'm not alive.

AURELIA. Oh, hear me, dearest--!

CATILINE. No, I will not hear! I hate you. I see through your cunning wiles. You wish to chain me to a living death. Cease staring at me! Ah, your eyes torment me,-- They pierce like daggers through my very soul! Ah, yes, the dagger! Die! Come, close your eyes--

[He draws the dagger and seizes her by the hand.]

AURELIA. Keep guard, oh gracious gods, o'er him and me!

CATILINE. Quick, close your eyes; close them, I say;--in them I see the starlight and the morning sky--. Now shall I quench the heavenly star of dawn!

[The thunder rolls again.]

CATILINE. Your heart; your blood! Now speak the gods of life Their last farewell to you and Catiline!

[He lifts the dagger toward her bosom; she escapes into the tent; he pursues her.]

FURIA. [Listens.] She stretches out her hand imploringly. She pleads with him for life. He hears her not. He strikes her down! She reels in her own blood!

[CATILINE comes slowly out of the tent with the dagger in his hand.]

CATILINE. Now am I free. Soon I shall cease to be. Now sinks my soul in vague oblivion. My eyes are growing dim, my hearing faint, As if through rushing waters. Ah, do you know What I have slain with this my little dagger? Not her alone,--but all the hearts on earth,-- All living things, all things that grow and bloom;-- The starlight have I dimmed, the crescent moon, The flaming sun. Ah, see,--it fails to rise; 'Twill never rise again; the sun is dead. Now is the whole wide realm of earth transformed Into a huge and clammy sepulchre, Its vault of leaden grey;--beneath this vault Stand you and I, bereft of light and darkness, Of death and life,--two restless exiled shadows.

FURIA. Now stand we, Catiline, before our goal!

CATILINE. No, one step more--before I reach my goal. Relieve me of my burden! Do you not see, I bend beneath the corpse of Catiline? A dagger through the corpse of Catiline!

[He shows her the dagger.]

CATILINE. Come, Furia, set me free! Come, take this dagger;-- On it the star of morning I impaled;-- Take it--and plunge it straightway through the corpse; Then it will loose its hold, and I am free.

FURIA. [Takes the dagger.] Your will be done, whom I have loved in hate! Shake off your dust and come with me to rest.

[She buries the dagger deep in his heart; he sinks down at the foot of the tree.]

CATILINE. [After a moment comes to consciousness again, passes his hand across his forehead, and speaks faintly.] Now, mysterious voice, your prophecy I understand! I shall perish by my own, yet by a stranger's hand. Nemesis has wrought her end. Shroud me, gloom of night! Raise your billows, murky Styx, roll on in all your might! Ferry me across in safety; speed the vessel on Toward the silent prince's realm, the land of shadows wan. Two roads there are running yonder; I shall journey dumb Toward the left--

AURELIA. [From the tent, pale and faltering, her bosom bloody.] --no, toward the right! Oh, toward Elysium!

CATILINE. [Startled.] How this bright and lurid picture fills my soul with dread! She herself it is! Aurelia, speak,--are you not dead?

AURELIA. [Kneels before him.] No, I live that I may still your agonizing cry,-- Live that I may lean my bosom on your breast and die.

CATILINE. Oh, you live!

AURELIA. I did but swoon; though my two eyes grew blurred, Dimly yet I followed you and heard your every word. And my love a spouse's strength again unto me gave;-- Breast to breast, my Catiline, we go into the grave!

CATILINE. Oh, how gladly would I go! Yet all in vain you sigh. We must part. Revenge compels me with a hollow cry. You can hasten, free and blithesome, forth to peace and light; I must cross the river Lethe down into the night.

[The day dawns in the background.]

AURELIA. [Points toward the increasing light.] No, the terrors and the gloom of death love scatters far. See, the storm-clouds vanish; faintly gleams the morning star.

AURELIA. [With uplifted arms.] Light is victor! Grand and full of freshness dawns the day! Follow me, then! Death already speeds me on his way.

[She sinks down over him.]

CATILINE. [Presses her to himself and speaks with his last strength.] Oh, how sweet! Now I remember my forgotten dream, How the darkness was dispersed before a radiant beam, How the song of children ushered in the new-born day. Ah, my eye grows dim, my strength is fading fast away; But my mind is clearer now than ever it has been: All the wanderings of my life loom plainly up within. Yes, my life a tempest was beneath the lightning blaze; But my death is like the morning's rosy-tinted haze.

[Bends over her.]

CATILINE. You have driven the gloom away; peace dwells within my breast. I shall seek with you the dwelling place of light and rest!

CATILINE. [He tears the dagger quickly out of his breast and speaks with dying voice.] The gods of dawn are smiling in atonement from above; All the powers of darkness you have conquered with your love!

[During the last scene FURIA has withdrawn farther and farther into the background and disappears at last among the trees. CATILINE's head sinks down on AURELIA's breast; they die.]

* * * * *

THE WARRIOR'S BARROW

[Kaempehojen]

A Dramatic Poem in One Act

1854

* * * * *

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

RODERIK An old recluse.

BLANKA His foster-daughter.

GANDALF A sea-king from Norway.

ASGAUT An old viking.

HROLLOUG " " "

JOSTEJN " " "

Several VIKINGS

HEMMING A young scald in Gandalf's service.

* * * * *

SETTING

The action takes place on a small island off the coast of Sicily shortly before the introduction of Christianity into Norway.

An open place surrounded by trees near the shore. To the left in the background the ruins of an old temple. In the center of the scene a huge barrow upon which is a monument decked with flower wreaths.

* * * * *

SCENE I

[At the right of the stage sits RODERIK writing. To the left BLANKA in a half reclining position.]

BLANKA. Lo! the sky in dying glory
Surges like a sea ablaze,--
It is all so still before me,
Still as in a sylvan maze.
Summer evening's mellow power
Settles round us like a dove,
Hovers like a swan above
Ocean wave and forest flower.
In the orange thicket slumber
Gods and goddesses of yore,
Stone reminders in great number
Of a world that is no more.
Virtue, valor, trust are gone,
Rich in memory alone;
Could there be a more complete
Picture of the South effete?

[Rises.]

BLANKA. But my father has related
Stories of a distant land,
Of a life, fresh, unabated,
Neither carved nor wrought by hand!
Here the spirit has forever
Vanished into stone and wave,--
There it breathes as free as ever,
Like a warrior strong and brave!
When the evening's crystallizing
Vapors settle on my breast,
Lo! I see before me rising
Norway's snow-illumined crest!
Here is life decayed and dying,
Sunk in torpor, still, forlorn,--
There go avalanches flying,
Life anew in death is born!
If I had the white swan's coat--

RODERIK. [After a pause writing.] "Then, it is said, will Ragnarök have stilled The wilder powers, brought forth a chastened life; All-Father, Balder, and the gentle Freya Will rule again the race of man in peace!"--

[After having watched her for a moment.]

RODERIK. But, Blanka, now you dream away again; You stare through space completely lost in thought,-- What is it that you seek?

BLANKA. [Draws near.] Forgive me, father! I merely followed for a space the swan, That sailed on snowy wings across the sea.

RODERIK. And if I had not stopped you in your flight, My young and pretty little swan! who knows How far you might have flown away from me,-- Perchance to Thule?

BLANKA. And indeed why not? To Thule flies the swan in early spring, If only to return again each fall.

[Seats herself at his feet.]

BLANKA. Yet I--I am no swan,--no, call me rather A captured falcon, sitting tame and true, A golden ring about his foot.

RODERIK. Well,--and the ring?

BLANKA. The ring? That is my love for you, dear father! With that you have your youthful falcon bound, I cannot fly,--not even though I wished to.

[Rises.]

BLANKA. But when I see the swan sail o'er the wave, Light as a cloud before the summer wind, Then I remember all that you have told Of the heroic life in distant Thule; Then, as it seems, the bird is like a bark With dragon head and wings of burnished gold; I see the youthful hero in the prow, A copper helmet on his yellow locks, With eyes of blue, a manly, heaving breast, His sword held firmly in his mighty hand. I follow him upon his rapid course, And all my dreams run riot round his bark, And frolic sportively like merry dolphins In fancy's deep and cooling sea!

RODERIK. O you,-- You are an ardent dreamer, my good child,-- I almost fear your thoughts too often dwell Upon the people in the rugged North.

BLANKA. And, father, whose the fault, if it were so?

RODERIK. You mean that I--?

BLANKA. Yes, what else could I mean; You live yourself but in the memory Of early days among these mighty Norsemen; Do not deny that often as you speak Of warlike forays, combats, fights, Your cheek begins to flush, your eye to glow; It seems to me that you grow young again.

RODERIK. Yes, yes, but I have reason so to do; For I have lived among them in the North, And every bit that memory calls to mind Is like a page to me from my own saga. But you, however, fostered in the South, Who never saw the silver-tinted mountains, Who never heard the trumpet's echoing song,-- Ah, how could you be moved by what I tell?

BLANKA. Oh, must a human being see and hear All things but with his outer senses then? Has not the inner soul, too, eye and ear, With which it can both see and hearken well? 'Tis true it is with eyes of flesh I see The richly glowing color of the rose; But with the spirit's eye I see within A lovely elf, a fairy butterfly, Who archly hides behind the crimson leaves, And singeth of a secret power from heaven That gave the flower brightness and perfume.

RODERIK. True, true, my child!

BLANKA. I almost do believe That just because I do not really see, The whole looms up more beautiful in thought; That, father, is the way with you at least! The ancient sagas and heroic lays,-- These you remember, speak of with delight, And scratch in runic script upon your parchment; But if I ask about your youthful life In Norway's distant realm, your eyes grow dark, Your lips are silent, and it seems at times Your bosom houses gloomy memories.

RODERIK. [Rises.] Come, speak no more, good child, about the past. Who is there then whose youthful memories Are altogether free from self-reproach; You know, the Norsemen are a savage lot.

BLANKA. But are the warriors of the South less fierce? Have you forgot that night, now ten years past, The time the strangers landed on the coast, And plundered--?

RODERIK. [Visibly ill at ease.] Say no more now,--let us hence; The sundown soon will be upon us;--come!

BLANKA. [As they go.] Give me your hand!

[Stops.]

BLANKA. No, wait!

RODERIK. What is the matter?

BLANKA. I have today for the first time forgot--

RODERIK. And what have you forgot?

BLANKA. [Points to the barrow.] Behold the wreath!

RODERIK. It is--

BLANKA. The withered one of yesterday; I have forgot today to make the change; Yet, let me take you to the cabin first, Then shall I venture out in search of flowers; The violet never is so sweet and rare As when the dew has bathed its silver lining; The budding rose is never quite so fair As when 'tis plucked in child-like sleep reclining!

[They go out at the back to the right.]

* * * * *

SCENE II

[GANDALF and the VIKINGS enter from the right.]

ASGAUT. Now we shall soon be there.

GANDALF. Point out the place!

ASGAUT. No, wait till we have gone beyond the wood. There was still standing on the rocky cliff Against the sea a remnant of the wall,-- I dare say it is standing there to-day.

JOSTEJN. But tell us, king, what can it profit us To tramp about here on the isle like fools?

HROLLOUG. Yes, tell us what shall--

GANDALF. You shall hold your tongues! And blindly follow where your king commands!

GANDALF. [To ASGAUT.] It seems to me, however, you cleaned house Too well when you were last here on the isle; You might have left a little, I should think, For me and my revenge!

HROLLOUG. You are the king, And loyalty we pledged you at the thing, But when we followed you upon the war path, It was to win our share of fame and glory.

JOSTEJN. And golden treasures, Hrolloug, golden treasures.

SEVERAL. That, Gandalf, is the law, and heed it well!

GANDALF. I know the law perhaps as well as you; But is there not since days of old a law And covenant with us that when a kinsman Falls slain before the enemy and his corpse Unburied lies a prey unto the raven, Blood vengeance must be had?

SOME. Yes, so it is!

GANDALF. Then stand you ready with your sword and shield,-- You have a king to avenge and I a father!

[Commotion among the VIKINGS.]

JOSTEJN. A king?

HROLLOUG. A father?

GANDALF. Wait,--I shall relate How all this stands. You know, my father was A mighty viking. Twelve years gone it is Since he the last time sallied forth one spring With Asgaut there and all his old time warriors. Two years he roamed about from strand to strand, Visiting Bratland, Valland, even Blaaland; At length he went and harried Sicily, And there heard stories of a wealthy chief, Who lived upon this island in a castle With sturdy walls built on a rocky base, And in it there were costly treasures hid. At night he took his men and went ashore, And razed the castle walls with fire and sword. Himself went foremost like an angry bear, And in the fury of the fight saw not How all his warriors fell about him dead; And when the morning sun rose in the east, There lay the castle smouldering in ruin. Asgaut alone survived with one or two,-- My father and the hundred others there Had ridden to Valhalla through the flames.

ASGAUT. I hoisted every sail upon the bark, And turned the prow straight homeward to the North; There sought I all in vain for Gandalf king; The youthful eagle, I was told, had flown Across the sea to Iceland or the Faroes. I hastened after him but found no trace,- Yet everywhere I went his name was known; For though his bark sped cloud-like in the storm, Yet flew his fame on even swifter wings. At last this spring I found him, as you know; It was in Italy; I told him then What things had happened, how his father died, And Gandalf swore by all Valhalla's gods Blood-vengeance he would take with fire and sword.

JOSTEJN. It is an ancient law and should be honored! But had I been in your place, Gandalf king, I should have lingered on in Italy,-- For there was gold to win.

HROLLOUG. And honor too.

GANDALF. That is your loyalty to your dead king.

JOSTEJN. Come, come now; no offence; I merely meant The dead could wait perhaps.

ASGAUT. [With suppressed rage.] You paltry race!

JOSTEJN. But now that we are here--

HROLLOUG. Yes; let us raise Unto the king a worthy monument!

SOME. Yes, yes!

OTHERS. With bloodshed and with fire!

ASGAUT. Now that I like!

GANDALF. And now away to spy around the island; For even tonight blood-vengeance shall be mine; If not, I must myself fall.

ASGAUT. So he swore.

GANDALF. I swore it solemnly by all the gods! And once again I swear it--

HEMMING. [With a harp on his shoulder has during the preceding emerged from among the WARRIORS and cries out imploringly.] Swear not, Gandalf!

GANDALF. What troubles you?

HEMMING. Swear not here in this wood! Here in the South our gods can never hear; Out on your bark, up North among the hills, There they still hearken to you, but not here!

ASGAUT. Have you too breathed the poison of the South?

HEMMING. In Italy I heard the pious monks Tell lovely stories of the holy Christ, And what they told still lingers in my mind Through night and day and will no more be gone.

GANDALF. I had you brought with me because in youth You showed great promise of poetic gifts. You were to see my bold and warlike deeds, So that when I, King Gandalf, old and gray, Sat with my warriors round the oaken table, The king's young scald might while away Long winter evenings with heroic lays, And sing at last a saga of my deeds; The hero's fame voiced in the poet's song Outlives the monument upon his grave. But now, be off, and if you choose go cast Your harp aside and don the monkish cowl. Aha! King Gandalf has a mighty scald!

[The VIKINGS go into the forest to the left; HEMMING follows them.]

ASGAUT. It is a mouldy time we live in now; Our faith and customs from the olden days Are everywhere upon the downward path. Lucky it is that I am growing old; My eyes shall never see the North decay. But you, King Gandalf, you are young and strong; And wheresoe'er you roam in distant lands, Remember that it is a royal task To guard the people and defend the gods!

[He follows the rest.]

GANDALF. [After a pause.] Hm, he has no great confidence in me. 'Tis well he went! Whenever he is near, It is as if a burden weighed me down. The grim old viking with his rugged face,-- He looks like Asathor, who with his belt Of strength and Mjölnir stood within the grove, Carved out in marble, near my father's home. My father's home! Who knows, alas! how things Around the ancient landmarks now may look!-- Mountains and fields are doubtless still the same; The people--? Have they still the same old heart? No, there is fallen mildew o'er the age, And it is that which saps the Northern life And eats away like poison what is best. Well, I will homeward,--save what still is left To save before it falls to utter ruin.

GANDALF. [After a pause during which he looks around.] How lovely in these Southern groves it is; My pine groves can not boast such sweet perfume.

[He perceives the mound.]

GANDALF. What now? A warrior's grave? No doubt it hides A countryman from those more stirring days. A warrior's barrow in the South!--'Tis only just; It was the South gave us our mortal wound. How lovely it is here! It brings to mind One winter night when as a lad I sat Upon my father's knee before the hearth, The while he told me stories of the gods, Of Odin, Balder, and the mighty Thor; And when I mentioned Freya's grove to him, He pictured it exactly like this grove,-- But when I asked him something more of Freya, What she herself was like, the old man laughed And answered as he placed me on my feet, "A woman will in due time tell you that!"

GANDALF. [Listening.] Hush! Footsteps in the forest! Quiet, Gandalf,- They bring the first fruits of your blood-revenge!

[He steps aside so that he is half concealed among the bushes to the right.]

* * * * *

SCENE III

[GANDALF. BLANKA with oak leaves in her hair and a basket of flowers enters from the left.]

BLANKA. [Seated at the left busily weaving a flower wreath.] Fountains may murmur in the sunny vales, Resplendent billows roll beneath the shore; Nor fountain's murmur, nor the billow's song Has half the magic of those flowers there, That stand in clusters round the barrow's edge And nod at one another lovingly; They draw me hither during night and day,-- And it is here I long to come and dream. The wreath is done. The hero's monument, So hard and cold, shall under it be hid. Yes, it is beautiful!

[Pointing to the mound.]

BLANKA. A vanished life, Of giant strength, lies mouldering in the ground,-- And the memorial which should speak to men,-- A cold unyielding stone like yonder one! But then comes art, and with a friendly hand She gathers flowers from the breast of nature And hides the ugly, unresponsive stone With snow-white lilies, sweet forget-me-nots.

[She ascends the barrow, hangs the wreath over the monument, and speaks after a pause.]

BLANKA. Again my dreams go sailing to the North Like birds of passage o'er the ocean waves; I feel an urging where I long to go, And willingly I heed the secret power, Which has its royal seat within the soul. I stand in Norway, am a hero's bride, And from the mountain peak watch eagle-like. O'er shining waves the vessel heaves in sight.-- Oh, like the gull fly to your fatherland! I am a Southern child, I cannot wait; I tear the oaken wreath out of my hair,-- Take this, my hero! 'Tis the second message I greet you with,--my yearning was the first.

[She throws the wreath. GANDALF steps forth and seizes it.]

BLANKA. What's this? There stands a--

[She rubs her eyes and stares amazed at him.]

No, it is no dream. Who are you, stranger? What is it you seek Here on the shore?

GANDALF. Step first from off the mound,-- Then we can talk at ease.

BLANKA. [Comes down.] Well, here I am!

BLANKA. [Aside as she looks him over.] The chain mail o'er his breast, the copper helmet,-- Exactly as my father has related.

BLANKA. [Aloud.] Take off your helmet!

GANDALF. Why?

BLANKA. Well, take it off!

BLANKA. [Aside.] Two sparkling eyes, locks like a field of grain,-- Exactly as I saw him in my dream.

GANDALF. Who are you, woman?

BLANKA. I? A poor, poor child!

GANDALF. Yet certainly the fairest on the isle.

BLANKA. The fairest? That indeed is possible, For here there's no one else.

GANDALF. What,--no one else?

BLANKA. Unless my father be,--but he is old And has a silver beard, as long as this; No, after all I think I win the prize.

GANDALF. You have a merry spirit.

BLANKA. Not always now!

GANDALF. But tell me, pray, how this is possible; You say you live alone here with your father, Yet I have heard men say most certainly The island here is thickly populated?

BLANKA. It was so once, three years ago or more; But,--well, it is a sad and mournful tale-- Yet you shall hear it if you wish.

GANDALF. Yes, certainly!

BLANKA. You see, three years ago--

[Seats herself.]

BLANKA. Come, seat yourself!

GANDALF. [Steps back a pace.] No, sit you down, I'll stand.

BLANKA. Three years ago there came, God knows from whence, A warlike band of robbers to the isle; They plundered madly as they went about, And murdered everything they found alive. A few escaped as best they could by flight And sought protection in my father's castle, Which stood upon the cliff right near the sea.

GANDALF. Your father's, did you say?

BLANKA. My father's, yes.-- It was a cloudy evening when they burst Upon the castle gate, tore through the wall, Rushed in the court, and murdered right and left. I fled into the darkness terrified, And sought a place of refuge in the forest. I saw our home go whirling up in flames, I heard the clang of shields, the cries of death.-- Then everything grew still; for all were dead.-- The savage band proceeded to the shore And sailed away.--I sat upon the cliff The morning after, near the smouldering ruins. I was the only one whom they had spared.

GANDALF. But you just told me that your father lives.

BLANKA. My foster-father; wait, and you shall hear! I sat upon the cliff oppressed and sad, And listened to the awful stillness round; There issued forth a faint and feeble cry, As from beneath the rocky cleft beneath my feet; I listened full of fear, then went below, And found a stranger, pale with loss of blood. I ventured nearer, frightened as I was, Bound up his wounds and tended him,--

GANDALF. And he?

BLANKA. Told me as he recovered from his wounds, That he had come aboard a merchantman, Had reached the island on the very day The castle was destroyed,--took refuge there And fought the robber band with all his might Until he fell, faint with the loss of blood, Into the rocky cleft wherein I found him. And ever since we two have lived together; He built for us a cabin in the wood, I grew to love him more than any one. But you must see him,--come!

GANDALF. No, wait,--not now! We meet in ample time, I have no doubt.

BLANKA. Well, all right, as you please; but rest assured He would be glad to greet you 'neath his roof; For you must know that hospitality Is found not only in the North.

GANDALF. The North? You know then--

BLANKA. Whence you come, you mean? Oh, yes! My father has so often told of you That I the moment that I saw you--

GANDALF. Yet you Were not afraid!

BLANKA. Afraid? And why afraid?

GANDALF. Has he not told you then,--of course if not--

BLANKA. Told me that you were fearless heroes? Yes! But pray, why should that frighten me? I know you seek your fame on distant shores, In manly combat with all doughty warriors; But I have neither sword nor coat of mail, Then why should I fear--

GANDALF. No, of course, of course! But still, those strangers who destroyed the castle?

BLANKA. And what of them?

GANDALF. Only,--has not your father Told you from whence they came?

BLANKA. Never! How could he! Strangers they were alike to him and us. But if you wish I'll ask him right away.

GANDALF. [Quickly.] No, let it be.

BLANKA. Ah, now I understand! You wish to know where you can seek them now, And take blood-vengeance, as you call it.

GANDALF. Ah, Blood-vengeance! Thanks! The word I had forgot; You bring me back--

BLANKA. But do you know, it is An ugly practice.

GANDALF. [Going toward the background.] Farewell!

BLANKA. O, you are going?

GANDALF. We meet in time.

[Stops.]

GANDALF. Tell me this one thing more: What warrior is it rests beneath the mound?

BLANKA. I do not know.

GANDALF. You do not know, and still You scatter flowers on the hero's grave.

BLANKA. My father led me here one morning early And pointed out to me the fresh-made mound, Which I had never seen upon the strand. He bade me say my morning prayers out here, And in my supplications to remember Those who had harried us with sword and fire.

GANDALF. And you?

BLANKA. Each morning from that day to this I sent a prayer to heaven for their salvation; And every evening flowers afresh I wove Into a garland for the grave.

GANDALF. Yes, strange! How can you pray thus for your enemy?

BLANKA. My faith commands me.

GANDALF. [Vehemently.] Such a faith is craven; It is the faith which saps the hero's strength; 'Twas therefore that the great, heroic life Died feebly in the South!

BLANKA. But now suppose My craven faith, as you see fit to call it, Could be transplanted to your virgin soil,-- I know full well, there would spring forth a mass Of flowers so luxuriant as to hide The naked mountain.

GANDALF. Let the mountain stand In nakedness until the end of time!

BLANKA. O! Take me with you!

GANDALF. What do you mean? I sail for home--

BLANKA. Well, I shall sail with you; For I have often traveled in my dreams To far-off Norway, where you live mid snow And ice and sombre woods of towering pines. There should come mirth and laughter in the hall, If I could have my say, I promise you; For I am merry;--have you any scald?

GANDALF. I had one, but the sultry Southern air Has loosened all the strings upon his harp,-- They sing no longer--

BLANKA. Good! Then shall I be Your scald.

GANDALF. And you?--You could go with us there, And leave your father and your home?

BLANKA. [Laughing.] Aha! You think I meant it seriously?

GANDALF. Was it Only a jest?

BLANKA. Alas! a foolish dream I often used to dream before we met,-- Which often I no doubt shall dream again, When you--

[Suddenly breaking off.]

BLANKA. You stare so fixedly.

GANDALF. Do I?

BLANKA. Why, yes! What are you thinking of?

GANDALF. I? Nothing!

BLANKA. Nothing?

GANDALF. That is, I scarcely know myself; And yet I do--and you shall hear it now: I thought of you and how you would transplant Your flowers in the North, when suddenly My own faith came as if by chance to mind. One word therein I never understood Before; now have you taught me what it means.

BLANKA. And that is what?

GANDALF. Valfader, it is said, Receives but half the warriors slain in battle; The other half to Freya goes by right. That I could never fully comprehend; But--now I understand,--I am myself A fallen warrior, and to Freya goes The better part of me.

BLANKA. [Amazed.] What does this mean?

GANDALF. Well, in a word, then know--

BLANKA. [Quickly.] No, say it not! I dare not tarry longer here to-night,-- My father waits, and I must go; farewell!

GANDALF. O, you are going?

BLANKA. [Takes the wreath of oak leaves which he has let fall and throws it around his helmet.] You can keep it now. Lo, what I hitherto bestowed on you In dreams, I grant you now awake.

GANDALF. Farewell!

[He goes quickly out to the right.]

* * * * *

SCENE IV

BLANKA. [Alone.]
He is gone! Ah, perfect stillness
Rules upon the barren strand.
Perfect stillness, grave-like stillness
Rules my heart with heavy hand.
Came he then to vanish only
Through the mist, a ray of light?
Soon he flies, a sea-gull lonely,
Far away into the night!
What is left me of this lover?
But a flower in the dark:
In my loneliness to hover
Like a petrel round his bark!

[The war trumpet of the Vikings is heard from the left.]

BLANKA. Ah! What was that! A trumpet from the wood!

* * * * *

SCENE V

[BLANKA, GANDALF from the right.]

GANDALF. [Aside.] It is too late!

BLANKA. O, there he is again! What do you want?

GANDALF. Quick,--quick, away from here!

BLANKA. What do you mean?

GANDALF. Away! There's danger here!

BLANKA. What danger?

GANDALF. Death!

BLANKA. I do not understand you.