Act IV
Scene: The rune-stone.
A white-rose bush, beside it, in bloom; a flame on the
altar; sunset.
Enter Egil, alone.
EGIL
Put it away? To put all from me—all—
Or else despoil! Renounce, or with a kiss
Consume the bright seduction! Mar—relinquish,
In either path, to suffer; yet to see
Myself at last for what I am, to know
The inexorable bars, the nudging rafters,
The starry lych-gate and the pit of tears
Of this my soul and penthouse.—And the escape!
To know that I—myself the miracle
I worshipped—am a god, a sovereign lord
Of nature, powerful to make the bounds
And marches of the heaven my petty fiefs
Of mind,—yet what a god! A clawed usurper,
That snatches from the shoulders of the gods
The green and azure cloth of summer-time,
This human tapestry of spring and harvest
Star-wrought with sanguine hearts and golden sheaves,
And tears it, tooth-meal, for a wolf’s lair.—This,
This also must have challenge: Might not Egil
O’ermaster Fenris? Can the mind o’ermaster
The will?
[Supplicating the rune-stone.]
O mystery, that made us two
Yet one, resolve thyself and this and seal it!
To put all, all away, or with a kiss consume?
[Pausing, he breaks a white rose, and holding it near
and nearer the altar-flame watches it—as though for
a sign—till it scorches; then snatching it back,
extinguishes the flame. While he is bending over thus,
Thordis enters,—in her hands a rope of twined
arbutus-flowers. All in white, she is very pale;
approaching behind Egil, she watches over his shoulder
the rose petals and the flame. Suddenly, throwing the
rope of arbutus over his head, she winds it about him.
Turning, he drops the rose, and they gaze at each other,
anguished.]
EGIL
[After a silence.]
Why have you left the body?
THORDIS
[Binding his arms down with the blossoms.]
I have come
To bring you back in chains to prison.
EGIL
Where—
THORDIS
I know a dungeon where the dead are not.
EGIL
Where—have you left the body?
THORDIS
They are bringing
Their burden here.
EGIL
These flowers?
THORDIS
Arbutus.
EGIL
Those?
And you could weave of those this chain for me?
THORDIS
Could weave a garland of a winding-sheet?
I could; I did; and whilst I wove, I heard
Above my head the small birds singing “Horror,”
And underfoot “Horror” the sweet grass sang;
But in my bosom sung, “He loves me.”
EGIL
Keep
From me, lest thou be scorched.
THORDIS
Was he not gentle,
Exalted, tender? Who that saw his smile
But thought “A star breaks”?—Now for us all dark,
A shape of clay. Oh, why should sudden love
Come like the tempest, and blot out from skies
Of memory all golden yesterdays?
But so it is; the storm of thee shuts down
Over my world; thy lightnings have put out
His smile.
EGIL
Is it not enough that I have spilled
His blood upon my soul, but must that, more,
Pollute the whiteness of a goddess’ heart
And desecrate perfection?
THORDIS
[With a wan smile of pain, drawing him with the
arbutus toward her.]
Come—to prison.
EGIL
His blood, I said; did you not hear? Not Yorul—
I murdered him!
THORDIS
You do not understand;
It was not you; ’twas I.
EGIL
The hand of Yorul
Stabbed him, but my intent.
THORDIS
You do not ask
Where I’ve prepared your dungeon.
—Come.
EGIL
Too late,
You precious chains! I am free.
THORDIS
Thy words again!
“Free, but alone, adrift!” I hear thee still,
Forever, calling in thy need of me—
“O take me back, the wild thing!” Come!—I take thee;
I nestle thee once more, a captive. Come,
Alone no more!
EGIL
It is too late. ’Tis he,
Your god and lover, whom they are bringing back
To claim you.
THORDIS
[Clinging to him.]
Who shall claim me from your side?
[Enter a procession of folk, virgins, and children, bearing
a low bier, covered with a cloth of green, behind which
walks Yorul, bound. Ingimund, who enters first,
ascends, by the stone steps, the altar, before which the
bier is set down. While this is being borne, the dirge
continues.]
VIRGINS AND CHILDREN
[Chant.]
Heiri! heiri! heiri!
Othin ok Æsir!
[Ingimund signs to a priest to loosen the hands of Yorul,
who stands in front of the bier.]
INGIMUND
Give him the cup. The murderer shall drink
The bane of murder.
[The priest hands to Yorul a cup, which, as he raises it
quietly to his lips, is wrenched from his hand by Egil,
who embraces him.]
EGIL
My deliverer!—
Brother, awake! I give thee back thy bride.
[On the bier, the green cloth is thrown back, and
Baldur, rising, steps upon the altar.
Thordis gazes upon him.]
This is my heart’s desire—take it! ’tis yours.
BALDUR
Freyja!
THORDIS
[With a wild cry, going to him.]
Baldur!
THE FOLK
[Prostrating themselves.]
The gods! the gods!
[Thordis and Ingimund, by Baldur’s side, are transfigured,
and a hedge of flowers and flame springs up before the
altar, encircling the three.]
EGIL
[Apart, drinks from the cup.]
To freedom!
[Baldur and Thordis, clinging to each other, look at Egil.]
YORUL
[Staring at Baldur, speaks to Egil.]
Whom, lord, dost thou name “brother”?
EGIL
Him—and thee,
Both, for through me henceforward you are kindred.
Yorul! my men, my liegemen! you—you also
Conceived in chains and born in passion, you
Also, who from an immemorial brute
Rage for emancipation, oh, forget not
Your brother Fenris, him who was brought forth
A glorious miscarriage of the gods,
To be exalted to a man.
[He sinks upon the bier.]
The chains!
Yorul—the chains!
[Striving to break the arbutus links, which hang loosely
upon him, he falls back.]
YORUL
Master!
ODIN
The wolf is tamed.
[In sudden fire, the gods disappear, leaving deep twilight.
Vague, the body of Egil lies dead on the bier. Beside
it, amid the prostrate folk, rising alone, stands Yorul,
with arms upreached toward the rune-stone.]
THE VIRGINS AND CHILDREN
[Singing.]
Heiri! heiri! heiri!
Balthur ok Freyja!
[Far off, the ice-crown of the volcano flushes in the afterglow.]
The cover image is in the public domain.
Uncertain or antiquated spellings or ancient words were not corrected.