The Bridal Crown
(Kronbruden)
A Folk-Play in Six Scenes
1902
CHARACTERS
MATS
KERSTI
The MOTHER of KERSTI
The SOLDIER, her father
The VERGER, her grandfather
BRITA, the grown-up sister of MATS
The GRANDFATHER }
The GRANDMOTHER }
The FATHER } of MATS
The MOTHER }
ANNA }
LIT-KAREN } younger sisters of MATS
LIT-MATS, the small brother of MATS
The SHERIFF
The PASTOR
The FISHERMAN
The MIDWIFE
The NECK
The CHILD IN WHITE
The MEWLER (Mylingen), an apparition
The MOCKER (Skratten), a voice
The HEADSMAN
MATS’S RELATIVES, called the MILL-FOLK
KERSTI’S RELATIVES, called the MEWLINGS (Mylingarne)
FOUR BRIDESMAIDS
SIX SERVANT-GIRLS
TWO FIDDLERS
TWO SOLDIERS
SCENARIO
| SCENE | I. | THE HILL PASTURE | |
| SCENE | II. | THE FAMILY COUNCIL AT THE MILL | |
| SCENE | III. | THE SOLDIER’S HOUSE ON THE EVE OF THE | WEDDING |
| SCENE | IV. | THE WEDDING AT THE MILL | |
| SCENE | V. | AT THE CHURCH: THE PENANCE OF KERSTI | |
| SCENE | VI. | ON THE ICE OF THE LAKE |
FIRST SCENE
A hill pasture in Dalecarlia. A hut of rough-hewn boards, painted red, Stands at the left. Beside it grow two birches with trunks that are white clear down to the ground.
On the right-hand side appears a sloping hillside covered with spruces. The hillside is cut by a large brook forming a waterfall. At the foot of it is a tarn covered by water-lilies. The background shows a big lake bordered by blue hills. A church is visible across the lake.
A grindstone set in a wooden frame stands in the foreground by the corner of the hut.
It is Sunday evening, about sunset time.
Kersti’s mother sits on a wooden block outside the hut, smoking her pipe.
Kersti enters with an alpenhorn in her hand. She stops in front of her MOTHER.
MOTHER. Where have you been all this time, daughter?
KERSTI. In the woods, mother.
MOTHER. Picking strawberries, I suppose. Your lips are so red.
KERSTI. Why did you call me, mother?
MOTHER. The woods were full of noises, child, and of stealthy footfalls. Could it be the bear?
KERSTI. Can’t tell.
MOTHER. I thought I heard the strokes of an axe, but maybe I was mistaken.
KERSTI. The bear uses no axe, mother.
MOTHER. Why dressed up in your best, daughter?
KERSTI. It’s Sunday, mother.
MOTHER. There is milk on your tucker, child. Have you been milking May-dew or Starbright?
KERSTI. Could I but milk the stars—and the moon, O!
MOTHER. While it’s night, O!
KERSTI. Day and night!
MOTHER. Night and day!—Yes, I know! Beware of the bear!
KERSTI. Do you think he would tear my pet cow?
MOTHER. Have you lost her?
KERSTI. Shall I ask Anna?
MOTHER. You had better!
KERSTI. [Picks up her alpenhorn and sounds a melody; see musical appendix, Melody No. 1. Then she sings; see Melody No. 2]
“Too-la-loo, Ann at Boorness!
Do you see my cosset cow
Over there at your place?”
MATS. [Answering from a distance in a dear tenor voice; see musical appendix, Melody No. 3]
“Too-la-loo, so I do.
Come at once:
Cosset cow is here now!”
MOTHER. What a deep voice Anna has got!
KERSTI. She has been calling her cows since the sun began to set.
MOTHER. What do you hear down there in the valley, child?
KERSTI. The big bell of the cow, the low bell of the goat....
MOTHER. Oh, no!
KERSTI. I can hear the cock crowing and the dog barking, the gun banging and the cart clanking, and the oars saying “duck-duck” in the rowlocks.
MOTHER. Whose cock do you mean, and whose dog?
KERSTI. The miller’s.
MOTHER. What’s his name? Is it Anna?
KERSTI looks embarrassed and does not answer.
MOTHER. What do you see down there in the valley?
KERSTI. The water-wheel in the mill-race, the smoke from the chimney....
MOTHER. Whose chimney? The mill-folk’s, I suppose?
KERSTI. It’s growing dark, mother.
MOTHER. I am going—before it grows still darker! [She rises to her feet] This has been the longest Sunday in all my life!—What kind of a smell is that?
KERSTI. I smell the woods; I smell the cattle; I smell the hay.
MOTHER. No, it was tattle-berries you were picking! [For a while she stands still, lost in thought; then she sings; see musical appendix, Melody No. 4]
“The joy that was mine
Has been turned into woe!”
KERSTI. It is growing dark, mother!
MOTHER. So I see, daughter mine. The darkness is coming down on us heavy as a pall, and downward goes my path now—ever downward! But you must stay to watch the curds. And trust me to see if you let the fire go out.
KERSTI. Trust me to see that the fire won’t go out, mother.
MOTHER. Good night, then. And don’t forget your evening prayers!
KERSTI. Good night, mother.
MOTHER. “The joy that was mine has been turned into woe!” Don’t forget your evening prayers!
[She goes out to the left.
KERSTI opens the door of the hut. A big pot is seen hanging over the fire, on which she puts more wood; coming out again, she looks around to make sure that her mother is gone; then she picks up the alpenhorn and sounds another wordless melody on it. [See musical appendix, Melody No. 5.]
MATS. [Is heard singing outside, on the right-hand side; see musical appendix, Melody No. 6]
“Kersti dearest,
Kersti dearest,
Baby sleeps in the forest.”
KERSTI. [Answers in the same way; see Melody No. 7]
“Dillery-dell!
Fareth he well,
Fareth he well
Far in the forest?”
MATS. [Answers as before; see Melody No. 8]
“Nothing to fear!
Nothing to fear!
Baby sleeps in his cradle here,
Far, far, in the forest!”
KERSTI. [Singing; see Melody No. 9]
“Haste to the house and milk the cows,
And see that baby lacks nothing.
I cannot come, must stay at home,
Helping my folks with the baking.”
MATS. [Answers as before; see Melody No. 10]
“Birches nod in the blowing breeze,
But baby slumbers in perfect peace,
Kersti, Kersti, dearest!”
A strong wind springs up. The centre of the stage grows dark, but the sun is still shining on the tops of spruces on the hillside.
Very faintly at first, then more and more clearly, the yells and cries of a gang of game beaters are heard. These are followed by the snapping of branches, the baying of hounds, the trampling of horses in trot and gallop, the cracking of guns, the snarling of rattles, the crashing of trees that fall, and, above all, the constantly rising roar of the waterfall.
Finally a canon is sounded by ten hunting-horns, the first horn repeating its theme while the rest join in one by one. [See musical appendix, Melody No. 11.]
Badly frightened, KERSTI stands staring in every direction while the noise lasts. When it has died away in the distance and the woods are silent again, she brings bunches of spruce branches and spreads them on the ground, covering them at last with a brightly coloured rag carpet. Next she fetches two young spruce-trees that have been stripped of branches and bark, so that only their tops remain green. These she places beside the door of the hut, one on either side. Then she goes to the tarn and picks a number of white water-lilies, which she binds into a wreath.
MATS enters from the left, carrying a baby in a cradle of leather with straps attached to it.
KERSTI. Baby, baby darling! Is he still asleep?
MATS. Indeed he is!
KERSTI. Bring him here, and we’ll let the trees rock him.
They hang the cradle between the two birches that are swayed gently by the wind.
KERSTI. [Humming] “Birches nod in the blowing breeze, but baby slumbers in perfect peace.”.... Did you hear the hunt, Mats?
MATS. No hunt at this time of day, girl!
KERSTI. But I heard it!
MATS. Hardly!—What did your mother have to say?
KERSTI. She bothered me until I thought she would bother the life out of me.
MATS. Yes, dear, there can be no peace or happiness for us until our union has been hallowed and our baby baptised.
KERSTI. As long as the old folk resist there can be no wedding. But we must pray the Lord to bless our union before we give baby a name.
MATS. So we have agreed, and now it may as well be done.
KERSTI. Everything is ready, as you see.
MATS. It’s well done, but—we’re a sorry couple for all that, and a sorry wedding we’re having.
KERSTI. Let the Lord look into our minds and hearts, and if they hold no evil—what matters the rest? Have you brought the Book?
MATS. I have. But are you sure, dear, that what we mean to do is not sinful?
KERSTI. Why should it be? Don’t you know that the midwife can baptise in case of need?
MATS. Well, that’s the midwife!
KERSTI. [Putting the wreath on her head] Let us begin!
MATS. In the name of the Lord! And may we never come to regret it! [They kneel on the carpet, facing each other; MATS takes out a ring, which they hold between them while he is reading out of the prayer-book] “I, Mats Anders Larsson, take you, Kersti Margaret Hansdaughter, to be my wedded wife, whom I will love in good days and bad, and in token thereof I give you this ring.”
KERSTI. “I, Kersti Margaret Hansdaughter, take you, Mats Anders Larsson, to be my wedded husband, whom I will love in good days and bad, and in token thereof I give you this ring.”
They pray in silence for a while; then they rise and take hold of each other’s hands, but they do not kiss each other.
MATS. Now you are mine in the sight of God, dear, and after this we won’t mind what people may say.
KERSTI. That remains to be seen.
MATS. And what have we to eat, dear.
KERSTI. Nothing at all, Mats.
MATS. Then there is nothing left but to smoke.
They seat themselves on two small, three-legged stools and we flint and steel to light their pipes.
MATS. [When they have smoked a while in silence] What was that you said about the hunt just now?
KERSTI. I haven’t the heart to tell, Mats. I haven’t the heart since I guessed what folk they were.
MATS. Better not, maybe!... Look at the cradle—going as if it could rock itself.
KERSTI. That’s the wind, Mats; the wind in the birches.
MATS. But there is no wind in the spruces over there.
KERSTI. So I see. Surely the evil ones are abroad to-night.
MATS. Don’t talk of them!
KERSTI. Do you see my smoke going northward?
MATS. And mine southward!
KERSTI. The gnats are dancing....
MATS. Which means a wedding....
KERSTI. Do you think we are happier now?
MATS. Hardly!
KERSTI. Do you hear the cry of the blackcock?
MATS. A sure sign of wedding....
KERSTI. But not a single church bell to be heard MATS. It’s Sunday, and the ringing during the day has made them tired What shall we call the little one?
KERSTI. [In wild rebellion] Burden and Ill-luck and Un-asked and crown-thief....
MATS. Why crown-thief?
KERSTI. Because and because and because Even if we get a real wedding, I can wear no crown! What should he be called? Bride-spoil, Mother-woe, Forest-find!
MATS. Badly fares who badly does!
KERSTI. Yes, that’s for you to say!
The MOTHER of KERSTI appears on the hillside among the spruces and stands looking at MATS and her daughter.
MATS. There are evil eyes about!
KERSTI. And evil thoughts.... What you brew I have to drink. What you grind I have to bake.
The MOTHER disappears.
MATS. Can you tell what made our families hate each other so fiercely?
KERSTI. It had to do with land—with bought favours, and ill-gotten gains, and corrupt judges, and—everything that’s bad, bad, bad!
MATS. And then the hatred turned into liking, love, lust....
KERSTI. All of it poisoned....
MATS. How dark it turns when the hatred breaks through!
KERSTI. [Throwing her wreath into the tarn] Well may you say so! The devil take the wreath, as I can’t have a crown....
MATS. Don’t say that!
KERSTI. We hold wedding like beggars, and rascals, and roving folk.... What is it you cannot eat or drink, but that tastes good for all that? It’s tobacco—and that’s all you get for a wedding-feast! The fire under the kettle is going out, Mats. Go and fetch some wood. It’s all the dancing there will be.
MATS. If tokens tell the truth, you were born to be a queen!
KERSTI. Maybe! Surely not to milk the cows!
MATS. And the baby, the baby, the dear little thing!
KERSTI. The poor dear! Oh, what will become of us? What can be in store for us? Get some wood, Mats! Mother will beat me if the milk doesn’t curdle. Go, Mats!
MATS. There was a time when you served my father, KERSTI, and now it’s my turn to serve you. Because he was harsh to you, I’ll be good to you!
KERSTI. Yes, Mats, you are good, but I am not. If I only were!
MATS. Try to be!
KERSTI. Try to be bad, Mats, and we’ll see if you can.
MATS. You don’t mean it!
KERSTI. Who can tell?—Get away from here, Mats, and hurry up! Somebody is coming. I know her steps. It’s mother!
MATS. Your mother?—And how about the baby?
KERSTI. [Picks up the carpet and throws it across the cradle; then she takes her sheepskin coat that has been hanging on the outside wall of the hut and spreads it on top of the carpet] Go, go, go!
MATS. Be careful about baby—be careful now!
[He goes out.
KERSTI. Of course, of course!
MOTHER. [Entering from the left] Was it Anna that was here?
KERSTI. It was.
MOTHER. [Looking hard at KERSTI] And she left when I came?—What a voice she has!
KERSTI. Yes, has she not?
MOTHER. And she cut the wedding poles, too, and spread the spruce?
KERSTI. What is strange about that?
MOTHER. [Pulling KERSTI by the hair] Storyteller, hussy, strumpet....
KERSTI. [Raising her hand against her MOTHER] Take care!
MOTHER. Will you lay hand on your own mother, you trull? Is that what Mats has been teaching you? His father drove us from house and home, and now you take the son in your arms, daughter mine.... O!
KERSTI. That such things can be said.... O!
MOTHER. [Pointing to the cradle] What have you there?
KERSTI. Clothes to be aired.
MOTHER. Small ones, I guess.
KERSTI. Not so very.
MOTHER. And inside the cradle?
KERSTI. Small wash—not for small ones.
MOTHER. The child is there!
KERSTI. What child?
MOTHER. Yours!
KERSTI. There is no such thing!
MOTHER. Will you swear?
KERSTI. I swear! May the Neck get me if I lie!
MOTHER. You shouldn’t swear by the evil one.
KERSTI. I will swear by no one else!
MOTHER. [Seating herself] There is talk in the village.
KERSTI. Indeed?
MOTHER. A queer sort of talk.
KERSTI. No, really?
MOTHER. They say that Mats is to have the mill.
KERSTI [Rising] Is it true?
MOTHER. As true as it is that rashness always gets into trouble.
KERSTI. So Mats gets the mill? Then he will marry, I guess?
MOTHER. They talk of that, too.
KERSTI. Whom do you think?
MOTHER. Whoever it be that his fancy will take—the crown she must surely be able to wear.
KERSTI. Oh!
MOTHER. Oh, indeed!—There is gold on your finger.
KERSTI. There is.
MOTHER. Are you pledged?
KERSTI. I am.
MOTHER. And the crown? [KERSTI does not reply] Have you lost it?
KERSTI. [Walking back and forth restlessly] You know, it was foretold that I should wear a crown.
MOTHER. Stuff and nonsense! A virgin’s crown is more beautiful than a queen’s. And happy is she who wears it with honour!
KERSTI. Oh!
MOTHER. And oh, indeed!—Little we had. Wrong we suffered. Badly we fared. Alas the day!
KERSTI. Little we had, but shall have plenty! Luck is near!
MOTHER. Race against race, hating and hated; fire and water: now it’s coming to a boil.
KERSTI. Water may cool what the fire has heated. All will be well!
MOTHER. [Rising to leave] “The joy that was mine has been turned into woe.” [She goes toward the right] There is a wreath floating on the water—where’s the crown?
[She goes out.
KERSTI. It will come, it will come!
NECK. [Appears at the foot of the falls surrounded by a bright, white light; he wears a red cap, and a silvery tunic fastened about the waist with a green sash; he is young and fair, with blond hair that is falling down his back; he has a fiddle of gold with a bow of silver, and plays to his own singing; see musical appendix, Melody No. 12] “I am hoping, I am hoping that my Redeemer still liveth.”
KERSTI. [Who has been lost in thought, becomes aware of the Neck; when he has repeated his song twice, she remarks sneeringly] There is no redeemer for you, I can tell you!
The NECK pauses for a while and looks sadly at her; then he repeats the same song twice again.
KERSTI. If you’ll keep quiet I’ll let you play at my wedding.
The NECK nods assent and vanishes into the rock behind the falls.
MIDWIFE. [Enters from behind the hut wearing a wide Hack cloak and a close-fitting black hood; she carries a bag under her cloak, and she is very careful never to let her back be seen] Good evening, my dear. I hope my visit is not inconvenient.
KERSTI. You are the midwife—Mrs. Larsson—are you not?
MIDWIFE. Of course, I am. It was I that helped you, my dear....
KERSTI. Oh, yes; but you promised never to speak of it.
MIDWIFE. And we won’t! How—is the little one doing?
KERSTI. [Impatiently] Oh, well enough!
MIDWIFE. Better not be too impatient, dear....
KERSTI. Who says I am?
MIDWIFE. The snappy voice and the tap of the little foot! But now there is gold on your finger, I see. Then I shall be asked to a wedding shortly, I think.
KERSTI. You?
MIDWIFE. I am always at the baptism, but can never get to a wedding—and I think it would be such fun!
KERSTI. No doubt it would!
MIDWIFE. Of all human virtues, there is one I value above the rest....
KERSTI. I don’t suppose it is chastity.
MIDWIFE. What no one has, is beyond value. That which I put value on is gratitude.
KERSTI. You were paid, were you not?
MIDWIFE. There are services that money can’t pay.
KERSTI. And people you cannot get rid of.
MIDWIFE. Exactly, my dear, and of those I am one....
KERSTI. So I find.
MIDWIFE. And there is another,
KERSTI. Who can that be?
MIDWIFE. The Sheriff!
KERSTI. [Startled] The Sheriff?
MIDWIFE. Yes, the Sheriff. He is a very remarkable man, and I have heard of no one who knows the law as he does, from cover to cover.... You and I could never get all that into our heads, but—there is one chapter I have to know by heart, being a midwife.... And a most remarkable chapter it is, with a most remarkable number of paragraphs.... What’s the matter?
KERSTI. [Agitated] Tell me what you know.
MIDWIFE. Nothing at all I am nothing but a poor old woman who has come here to get lodging for the night....
KERSTI. Lodging here?
MIDWIFE. Right here.
KERSTI. Begone!
MIDWIFE. I can’t be walking the woods in the dark of the night.
KERSTI. [Threatening her with a stick] If you won’t walk, I’ll make you run.
MIDWIFE. [Moving back a couple of steps without turning about] Have we got that far now? You had better leave the stick alone, or....
KERSTI. Or what?
MIDWIFE. The Sheriff, of course, and that chapter I spoke of....
KERSTI [With the stick raised for a blow] Go to the devil, you cursed witch! [The stick breaks into small pieces.
MIDWIFE. Ha-ha! Ha-ha!
KERSTI. [Picks up the flint and steel, and strikes fire] In the name of Christ and His Passion, get thee gone!
MIDWIFE. [Turns and runs out with the galloping movement of a wild thing; her back, which then becomes visible, looks like that of a fox and ends in a sweeping, bushy tail; she hisses rather than speaks] We’ll meet at the wedding, bid or unbid! And the Sheriff, too! Ad-zee! Ad-zee! Ad-zee!
KERSTI takes a few faltering steps in direction of the tarn, as if she meant to throw herself into the water.
Then she begins to walk up and down in front of the cradle. After a while she takes off the round Dalecarlian jacket she is wearing and puts it on top of the clothing already covering the cradle. Finally she sits down on one of the stools by the corner of the hut and buries her face in her hands.
The grindstone begins to whirl with a hissing sound. Little bells, like those worn by goats, are heard ringing in the woods. Little white flames appear among the spruces on the hillside. Cow-bells are heard dose by. The NECK appears as before and sings the same song.
KERSTI rises horror-stricken and stands like a statue.
Tones like those produced by a harmonica are heard from the tarn. Unseen by KERSTI, the CHILD IN WHITE emerges from among the water-lilies and goes to the cradle. Then all sounds die out. The grindstone comes to a stop. The NECK disappears. All the will-o’-the-wisps but one go out.
Still unseen by KERSTI, the CHILD IN WHITE rocks the cradle gently, puts his ear dose to it, and draws back with an expression of great sadness. At last he bursts into tears and covers his face with one arm. During this scene the beltlike tones from the tarn continue.
The CHILD IN WHITE picks several water-lilies to pieces and strews them on the cradle, which he finally kisses before he descends into the tarn again. Then the last will-o’-the-wisp disappears and the harmonica can no longer be heard.
MIDWIFE. [Enters again, carrying her bag so that it can be seen] Perhaps I shall be more welcome this time. Does the fair maiden care to see the midwife now?
KERSTI. What do you bring?
MIDWIFE. [Taking a bridal crown from her bag] This!
KERSTI. What do you take?
MIDWIFE. [Pointing toward the cradle] “You see it, I see it, the whole world sees it, and yet it is not there.”1
KERSTI. Take it, then!
MIDWIFE. [Goes to the cradle] I have it. [She takes stealthily something from the cradle and drops it into her bag, which she then hides under her cloak again] Can I come to the wedding now?
KERSTI. Yes, come.
MIDWIFE. You must say that I’ll be welcome.
KERSTI. That would be a lie.
MIDWIFE. You must practise....
KERSTI. Welcome, then—if you’ll only leave me now!
MIDWIFE. [Withdrawing backwards]
“Four that whirl and twirl;
Eight that hurl and purl;
Four that flip-flap in a row;
Four that question where to go.”2
[She disappears.
MATS. [Is heard singing triumphantly outside; see musical appendix, Melody No. 13] “Come, cosset, cosset, cosset; come, cosset, cosset!”
As KERSTI hears him a happy look comes into her face, and she seems to swell with pride and new courage. MATS enters, with an armful of wood, looking joyful.
KERSTI. [Going to meet him] Did you see anybody?
MATS. I did!—Now for the wedding! [He dumps the wood into the hut] Let the kettle boil over—I am boiling, too.
KERSTI. Was it your father?
MATS. Father and mother. And I get the mill!
KERSTI. [Showing her crown] Do you see what I...?
MATS. Where did you get it?
KERSTI. Mother brought it for me.
MATS. Has she been here?
KERSTI. Happy as anything!
MATS. But the baby, the baby!
KERSTI. Sit down, Mats! Sit down! You know I can always find a way!
MATS. [Seating himself] But the baby!
KERSTI. There now!—Listen! Now, when trouble is on the wane and life is smiling, don’t you think a little patience might carry us very far....
MATS. If only the course be straight....
KERSTI. Of course, straight and short.
MATS. What are you after?
KERSTI. If the big fish is to be hooked, the small ones must be overlooked.
MATS. Can’t you talk plainly?
KERSTI. Wait a little!
MATS. I am waiting.
KERSTI. The old folks make conditions.
MATS. Yes, I know.
KERSTI. They want a croton bride. What does that mean if not a bride that wears a crown?
MATS. And wears it with honour!
KERSTI. With or without! What no one sees and no one knows does not exist.
MATS. Let me think. [He sits silent for a few moments] All right! And furthermore?
KERSTI. To hook what’s big, you must overlook what’s less.
MATS. Which does not mean the little one!
KERSTI. Do you mean to prove false?
MATS. I don’t! Not to you, Kersti!
KERSTI. Suppose now—the banns have been read, the wedding is under way, but the little one sleeps in the forest. Who will haste to the house, and milk the cows, and see that baby lacks nothing? Who, I ask?
MATS. Well may you ask! [He broods a while] If we only dared.... What was that you said?
KERSTI. Not a word.
MATS. It seems to me If we only dared....
KERSTI. What? Say it!
MATS. Say it yourself!
KERSTI. No, it’s for you!
MATS. Somebody must take care of the little one.
KERSTI. Who?
MATS. There is only one.
KERSTI. Then it’s easy to guess who!
MATS. Tell whom you mean.
KERSTI. No, you must tell.
MATS. Beside ourselves, there is only one who knows about the baby.
KERSTI. Who is that?
MATS. If you know, why don’t you tell?
KERSTI. Because I want you to tell.
MATS. It’s the midwife. Was that what you said?
KERSTI. I said nothing, but you did—and, as you know, I do what you say.
MATS. I have my doubts.
KERSTI. But what you said I have done already. The baby can’t stay in the woods. It must have shelter when the nights grow cold. And if anything should happen, then comes—the Sheriff!
MATS. The Sheriff, you say? Yes, so he does!
KERSTI. [Leaping to her feet] Is he coming, you say?
MATS. Yes, if something should happen.... Well, where’s the midwife to be found?
KERSTI. Would you like to call her?
MATS. I wish she were here!
KERSTI. And what do you want her to do?
MATS. Give the baby a home.
KERSTI. With whom?
MATS. With herself.
KERSTI. For how long?
MATS. Till the wedding is over.
KERSTI. But if he were taken sick while with her?
MATS. Better than have him freeze in the woods—better than have him freeze to death! Take a look at the cradle. I think I heard him!
KERSTI. No, he’s asleep....
MATS. Hush—I heard him.
KERSTI. No, you didn’t!
MATS. Yes, I did. [He rises.
KERSTI. [Placing herself in front of the cradle] Don’t you wake him! If he should cry, somebody might hear.
MATS. Oh.... Do you think any one has—that your mother may have heard him? Oh, Kersti, we should never have done what we have!
KERSTI. Undone were better!
MATS. [Dejectedly] We must take him to the midwife to-night. I must go to the village.
KERSTI. I’ll take him!
MATS. [Going to the cradle] Do!
KERSTI. But don’t wake him!
MATS. Can’t I bid him good night?
KERSTI. Don’t touch him!
MATS. Think if I should never see him again!
KERSTI. Then it would be the will of Him whose will we cannot change.
MATS. His will be done!
KERSTI. Now you have said it!
MATS. What have I said that could please you like that?
KERSTI. That—that—you submit to the will of Him that performeth all things.
MATS. [Simply] Yes, whatever may happen is His will, of course.
KERSTI. Of course!
MATS. Good night, then, Kersti dear, and good night, baby! [He goes out.
KERSTI. Good night, Mats.
KERSTI loosens the empty cradle from its fastenings and drops it into the tarn, from the waters of which the CHILD IN WHITE rises to threaten her with raised forefinger. At the sight of him KERSTI shrinks back.
NECK. [Appears in the same spot as before, but now bareheaded and carrying a golden harp, on which he accompanies himself; he has a threatening look as he sings; see musical appendix, Melody No. 20]
“Stilled are the waters, dark grows the sky:
Dark grows the sky.
Once in the world of the ages I lived,
Blessed by the sun.
Gone is the light,
Conquered by night.
Deep is my sin,
Black as the tarn.
Joy there is none;
Plenty of woe.
Torture and Shame must I name my abode:
O!”
While the NECK is singing, KERSTI hides the bridal crown in the hid. Then she puts out the fire under the pot. As she does so, the smoke pours in large quantities from the chimney, forming a dark background against which appear fantastically shaped and vividly coloured snakes, dragons, birds, etc.
When KERSTI comes out of the hut again, she has on a short Dalecarlian jacket and is carrying a bag and the alpenhorn. She locks the door of the hut and walks across the stage with proud bearing and firm steps just as the NECK is singing the last line.
Curtain.
SECOND SCENE
The living-room of the mill. Everything is covered by white dust. In the background, on the right-hand side, is an open trap-door, showing part of the water-wheel. The end of the flour chute, with a bag attached to it, is protruding from the right wall not far from the trap-door. Near it appears a lever used for starting and stopping the water-wheel.
Large gates occupy the centre of the real wall. Heavy wooden shutters dose another opening farther to the left and half-way from the floor.
In the foreground, at the right, is a huge open fireplace, in which a coal-fire is burning. An iron pot is hanging over the fire. On the left-hand side appear a bedstead, a hand-loom, a bobbin, a red, and a spinning-wheel. There is a door in the right wall.
The following members of the family are seated in a circle in front of the fireplace: the GRANDFATHER; the GRANDMOTHER; the FATHER and MOTHER of MATS; his sisters, BRITA, who is full-grown, ANNA, who is half-grown, and LIT-KAREN, who is still a child; and his brother, LIT-MATS, who is also a mere boy. All are smoking out of small pipes with iron bowls and looking very serious. BRITA is plaiting a chain out of human hair. LIT-KAREN and LIT-MATS are playing with two dolls.
BRITA. [To LIT-KAREN] Where did you get the doll?
LIT-KAREN. Kersti gave it to me.
BRITA. [Taking the doll from her] Away with it! [To Lit-Mats] Where did you get your doll?
LIT-MATS. Kersti gave it to me.
BRITA. [Taking the doll] Out with it!
FATHER. Hush! Hush! Grandfather is thinking. [Silence.
MOTHER. [To BRITA] What are you doing?
BRITA. A watch-chain, but there is hardly hair enough.
MOTHER. Where can you get any?
BRITA. I know where it ought to be pulled.
MOTHER. Horses pull.
BRITA. Hens are picked, pigs give bristles, and maidens are combed.—Combed hair is good, but cut is better.
FATHER. Hush, hush, grandfather is thinking. [Silence.
ANNA. [In a low voice to BRITA] What is he thinking of?
BRITA. You’ll hear by and by. And all will have to swallow.
ANNA. Is it about Mats? [BRITA makes no answer] And Kersti? Will there be a wedding?
FATHER. Hush, hush, grandfather is thinking. [Silence.
ANNA. [To BRITA] I’ll give you some of my hair.
BRITA. Not the right colour.
ANNA. Who’s got it? [BRITA does not answer] Is it Kersti you mean?
BRITA. Don’t mention her. [Silence.
GRANDMOTHER. [To GRANDFATHER] Have you thought it out?
GRANDFATHER. [Who has been sitting with the Bible and the hymn-book in his lap, lost in thought, wakes up] I have! [He opens the hymn-book at haphazard and says to the others] It is No. 278, the fourth verse: “All at birth and death.” Let us have it!
ALL. [Read in unison like children at school]
“All at birth and death are equals,
As the graveyard bones proclaim,
Poor and rich and low and mighty
In the end appear the same;
And the naked new-born baby
Brings no evidence to prove
Whether poverty or fortune
Will attend its fated groove.”
GRANDFATHER. It is settled! “He that hath an ear, let him hear.”—Is it settled?
GRANDMOTHER. Not yet.
FATHER. Not quite.
MOTHER. The Lord beholdeth!
BRITA. What does the Scripture, say?
ANNA. “Doth God pervert judgment, or doth the Almighty pervert justice?”
LIT-KAREN. What do you want me to say?
GRANDFATHER. You must give us your advice, child, although we may not take it. Out of the mouth of babes may come the truth.... Shall Kersti have Mats?
LIT-KAREN. If they want each other.
GRANDFATHER. Well spoken! [To LIT-MATS] And you, Lit-Mats?
LIT-MATS. [With his fingers in his mouth] I want my doll!
GRANDFATHER. And Mats wants his. Shall he have her?
LIT-MATS. If it is Kersti, he may, for she gave me the doll.
BRITA. Listen to him!
GRANDFATHER. Let us search the Scripture. [He opens the Bible and reads] Genesis, thirty-fourth chapter and eighth verse. “And Hamor communed with them, saying, The soul of my son Shechem longeth for your daughter: I pray you give her him to wife.” Is that enough?
GRANDMOTHER. Enough and to spare!
FATHER. There wasn’t anything about the mill.
MOTHER. Let His will be done!
BRITA. [Abruptly] Amen.
ANNA. Verily, it shall be done!
LIT-KAREN. I like Kersti because she’s nice.
LIT-MATS. Me, too!
FATHER. Hush, hush, grandfather is thinking. [Silence.
GRANDFATHER. [To FATHER] Ask your brother-in-law to come in.
The FATHER goes to the door in the background, where he stops.
GRANDFATHER. [Goes to the bed, pulls a box from under it, takes a bundle of papers from the box, and turns to the FATHER again] Let him come!
FATHER. [Opening the door in the background] Come in, Stig Matsson.
SHERIFF. [Enters, dressed in uniform] The peace of God be with you!
ALL. [Rising] And his blessing on you!
GRANDFATHER. It is I who have called you, Stig Matsson, and you know the reason. Kersti Margaret Hansdaughter—[He sighs]—is to become the wife of Mats Anders Larsson, my grandson. The two families have fought and fumed at each other for a long time—all too long! At this late hour I have come to feel that an end should be put to all strife and ill will before my eyes are closed and I am carried to my last rest. Take a look at these papers. [He hands the bundle to the SHERIFF, who opens it and glances at some of the papers] They are legal documents, deeds, wills, receipts, authorisations—belonging to suits that have been settled or are still unsettled. Have you looked them over?
SHERIFF. I have.
GRANDFATHER. [Takes back the bundle] All right! Then I shall throw them into the fire. There is a time to hate and a time to love. The time of hatred must come to an end I am longing for peace. Therefore, I beg you, my next of kin, to regard all that has happened in the past as if it had not happened at all—and I ask you: Will you forget everything, and will you meet your new relatives without grudge or guile, and greet them as friends? Answer me!
ALL. We will!
GRANDFATHER. Then I shall let the fire consume what is left of past evils. [He throws the bundle of papers into the fire, pulls the iron lid in front of the grate, and opens three small ventilators in the lid] Let us be seated!
All seat themselves in front of the fireplace, staring at the red glare from the three ventilators.
ANNA. [To BRITA, in a low voice] Do you hear it sing?
BRITA. No, it moans. And within me it’s aching!
The GRANDFATHER rises. Then all the rest follow his example.
GRANDFATHER. [To the FATHER] Bring them in!
The FATHER goes to the door at the right and brings in MATS.
The MOTHER goes to the door in the rear and opens it. KERSTI enters, accompanied by her MOTHER, her FATHER, the SOLDIER, who is wearing the old full-dress uniform of the Swedish infantry of the line, and her GRANDFATHER, the VERGER.
GRANDFATHER. May God bless you! And be seated, please!
All seat themselves except MATS, KERSTI, and the SHERIFF. MATS has taken hold of KERSTI by both hands. Long silence.
GRANDFATHER. When is the wedding to be?
MATS. In a fortnight, as soon as the banns have been read the third time.
GRANDFATHER. What is the hurry?
KERSTI shows evidence of being offended.
MATS. Haven’t we waited long enough?
GRANDFATHER. Maybe you have!
MATS. [To his relatives] Have you no word to say to Kersti? [Pause] Not one of you?
SHERIFF. [Goes to KERSTI and takes her by the hands with evident friendliness] Let us welcome the new child!
Panic-stricken, KERSTI tries to tear herself loose.
SHERIFF. You are not afraid of me, are you?—Oh, no!—Look me in the face, Kersti. I have dandled you on my knees when you were a little child, and I have held your pretty head in my hands.... Yes, you have a very pretty head, and a forehead that makes me think of a bull. That’s why you are having your own way now, I suppose.
[He lets go of her.
GRANDFATHER. Let us leave the young ones alone!
Alt rise, walk past MATS and KERSTI, and disappear through the door in the rear.
BRITA. [Who is the last to leave, spits scornfully as she passes KERSTI] Fie!
MATS. [Spitting in the same way] Fie yourself!
KERSTI and MATS are left alone.
MATS. I hope you will feel at home with me, Kersti!
KERSTI. With you, yes!
MATS. What have you to do with the others?
KERSTI. That’s the question.
MATS. You are not marrying the family.
KERSTI. But into it.
MATS. Of course, we are not very soft or cuddlesome.
KERSTI. That’s plain.... Is this the place where we are to live?
MATS. Yes, what do you think of it?
KERSTI. Everything is white....
MATS. It’s the flour, you see. Do you object?
KERSTI. And damp....
MATS. It’s the mill-race....
KERSTI. And cold, too....
MATS. It’s the water....
KERSTI. Shall we have new furniture?
MATS. There will be nothing new. Everything is handed down from one generation to another.
KERSTI. But we can sweep, can’t we?
MATS. No, we can’t! The dust in a mill is like the coating in a pipe. Mustn’t be touched!
KERSTI. Is that the wheel?
MATS. That’s the wheel.
He pulls the lever, whereupon the rushing of the water through the race is heard, and the wheel begins to turn.
KERSTI. Ugh! Have we to listen to that noise?
MATS. It’s ours! And we should be thankful as long as we hear it, because that means we have grist for the mill.
KERSTI. And the sun never gets here?
MATS. Never! How could it?
KERSTI. And nothing grows here—except that green stuff on the wheel.
MATS. But we catch eels here and lampreys.
KERSTI. Ugh! I like it better in the pasture, where the wind is blowing....
MATS. And the birches rock....
KERSTI. [Covering her face with the apron and weeping] Must I live in a place like this, beneath the water, at the bottom of the sea?
MATS. I was born here.
KERSTI. And here we are to die—O!
MATS. Why “O”?
KERSTI. Stop the wheel at least.
MATS. Well, if you can’t get along with the wheel, then....
KERSTI. [Opening a trap-door in the floor] What’s down here?
MATS. The river.
KERSTI. Please stop that wheel!
MATS. [Labours with the lever, but is unable to stop the wheel] Well! There must be mischief abroad!—It won’t stop!
KERSTI. I shall die here!
MATS. I must go outside to stop it! There is mischief abroad, I tell you!
KERSTI. And at home?
MATS. Oh, dear!
KERSTI. “Meow, said the cat.”[1]
MATS. What is the matter?
KERSTI. Merely that I have got what I wanted.
MATS. And it was not worth having? [The noise made by the wheel has become, deafening, and the wheel itself has begun to turn in the opposite direction] Christ Jesus, help! The wheel is turning backward!
[He runs out through the rear door.
KERSTI remains alone.
The handloom starts. The bobbin, the reel, and the spinning-wheel begin to turn, each one in its own manner. The stage becomes brightly illumined as if with sunlight. Then the room turns very dark. The fireplace swings around so that the glare from the ventilators confronts KERSTI like three burning eyes. It looks as if the fireplace were chasing her. Then it drops back into its accustomed place. The roar of the water-wheel increases again. The NECK appears in the wheel with the red cap on his head, and the golden fiddle in his hand. Be sings and plays as before, repeating the brief tune several times.
NECK. “I am hoping, I am hoping, that my Redeemer still liveth!”
KERSTI. [Running out through the rear door] Mats, Mats!
The NECK disappears, but his song is still heard for a while, as it gradually dies away in the distance.
MIDWIFE. [Enters, opens the small trap-door in the floor, and drops her leather bag through it] “If you come back, it’s all off, and if you don’t, it’s all on!” Now that’s done! And I shall dance at the wedding!
She takes some dance steps, but without letting her back be seen. The hand-loom begins to rap in waltz time, accompanied by the bobbin, the reel, and the spinning-wheel. Then the MIDWIFE disappears through the rear door, showing her back with the fox tail for a brief moment. The handloom, the bobbin, the reel, and the spinning-wheel keep right on as before.
KERSTI enters, and at once everything stops. A moment later the VERGER enters.
KERSTI. Is that you, grandfather?
VERGER. Yes, girl, I forgot something.
He picks up a large leather bag which he dropped on the bed at his first entrance.
KERSTI. What have you there?
VERGER. I come from the sacristy, and I am taking home the numbers to be polished.
KERSTI. What numbers?
VERGER. Those that show the hymns you are to sing, don’t you know?
KERSTI. Let me see!
VERGER. [Takes out of his bag a small black board, such as is found in every Swedish church; it has a number of nails on which are hung numbers made of brass] Here you can see.... What’s the matter, sweetheart?
KERSTI. I don’t know, grandfather, but I think I should never have come here....
VERGER. What talk is that, child?
KERSTI. There is mischief astir in this house....
VERGER. Oh, mercy, no...; No, my dear....
KERSTI. Oh, oh, oh! Everything has grown so strange all of a sudden....
VERGER. But how is this going to end, Kersti?
KERSTI. Yes, tell me, tell me!
VERGER. I must go now, child. I must go back to the church and get the crown so I can send it to a goldsmith. It has to be cleaned with cream of tartar....
KERSTI. All right, grandfather....
VERGER. It is for your sake the crown is to be cleaned—for your own sake, don’t you know?...
[He goes out by the rear door.
The SOLDIER enters immediately afterward.
KERSTI. Is that you, father?
SOLDIER. Yes, it’s only me. I want my chaco, which I left in here.
[He picks up the chaco.
KERSTI. Oh, father, father, I am so unhappy....
SOLDIER. [Drily] What has happened?
KERSTI. Nothing!
SOLDIER. Why should you be unhappy, then?
KERSTI. You don’t understand!
SOLDIER. [Brusquely, as he adjusts the chin-strap of the chaco] Come to your senses, child!
KERSTI. Don’t go, father!
SOLDIER. The sorrows of love pass quickly—Come to your senses is my advice. Do come to your senses! [He goes out.
BRITA enters.
KERSTI. And what have you forgotten?
BRITA. I never forget anything.
KERSTI. What are you looking for?
BRITA. You!
KERSTI. How kindly!
BRITA. Yes, is it not?
KERSTI. You hateful thing!
BRITA. You hussy!
KERSTI. You—sister-in-law!
BRITA. Who knows?
KERSTI. Are you telling my fortune, you witch?
BRITA. Yes—a rope!
KERSTI. Should not be mentioned in the house of a hanged man!
BRITA. [Goes to the bag attached to the end of the flour chute] Now I shall tell your fortune! You get the mill, and the grist will be accordingly. [She takes from the bag a handful of black mould out of which she forms a small mound on the floor; then she says]
“Vagrant women
Grind for their men
Meal out of mould
As only food.”1
KERSTI. A witch you are, indeed!
BRITA. Yes, and one who can find buried treasures! Perhaps you will let me find a little treasure for you?
KERSTI. Take care, you witch! Have you no shame? It’s mortal sin you are practising now! You should be burned by fire, for I am sure you would float if thrown in the water!
BRITA. [Taking a pinch of mould from the bag and pouring it on KERSTI’S head] To the dust I wed you, and a crown of dirt shall you wear, so that your shame may find you out!
KERSTI. Fie on you! Fie!
VOICE. [Like that of a small child, repeats after her] Fie!
KERSTI. Who was that?
VOICE. Who was that?
BRITA. Guess!—That was the Mocker!
KERSTI. Who is the Mocker?
VOICE. The Mocker!
BRITA. The Mocker is the Mocker. Don’t you know the Mewler?
KERSTI. The Mewler, you say? What have I got to do with that one?
VOICE. With that one!
BRITA. The wages of sin is death!
KERSTI. [Calling through the door] Mats!
VOICE. Mats!
KERSTI. [In despair] Oh! Oh! [She unfastens one of her red garters and ties it about her own neck] Let me die! Let me die!
BRITA. You shall have your wish!
KERSTI. Hang me to a tree!
VOICE. To a tree!
BRITA. Not I!
MATS. [Is heard singing outside] “Kersti dear, is baby asleep?”
BRITA. “Far in the forest!” Fie on you! [She goes out.
MATS. [Enters, looking very happy] “Far, far, in the forest!” [He comes up behind KERSTI and puts his hands over her eyes] Guess who it is!
KERSTI. Oh, you hurt me!
MATS. [Taking hold of the garter which is still about the neck of KERSTI] What kind of necklace is this?
KERSTI. Let go!
MATS. [Pulling playfully at the garter] Now I have you! Now you are my prisoner, my dove, my goat that I bought for a groat! [He leads her about by the garter] My little white kid! My little pet cow! [Singing] “Come, cosset, cosset, cosset! Come, cosset, cosset!”
KERSTI. Yes, you can be happy, Mats!
MATS. I am, and guess why?
KERSTI. Can’t any longer!
MATS. Because I met the midwife, and she brought word of the little one.
KERSTI. Did she?
MATS. She did! He’s sleeping, she said, so quietly, so quietly.
KERSTI. Oh!
MATS. Far in the forest!—What’s that in your hair?
KERSTI. Mould.
MATS. Have you been buried?
KERSTI. Yes, already!
MATS. [Brushing the mould out of her hair] Ugh! Who did that?
KERSTI. Can’t you tell?
MATS. Brita with the evil eye?
KERSTI. Can’t you blind it?
MATS. Not I! The only one who can is Jesus Christ!
A church-bell sounds the call to even-song.
KERSTI. Fray for me!
MATS. One must do that for oneself.
KERSTI. But suppose you can’t?
MATS. You can if your conscience is clear.
KERSTI. But when is it?
MATS. Do you hear the even-song bell?
KERSTI. No!
MATS. But I do; so you must hear it, too.
KERSTI. I don’t, I don’t! Alas the day!
MATS. Can you hear the rapids?
KERSTI. The roar of the rapids, the beat of the flail, the tinkle of cowbells—but of holy bells not a sound!
MATS. That’s a bad sign! I remember when the bells were rung at the burial of our former sheriff—we could see them move, but not a sound was heard. A bad sign!
KERSTI. Brita put a spell on me!
MATS. It will be worst for herself.
KERSTI. Come to the pasture! I must see the sun!
MATS. I will—Kersti dear!
KERSTI. Oh!
MATS. [Putting his arms about her and pressing her head to his breast] Oh!
Curtain.
THIRD SCENE
The eve of the wedding. The house of KERSTI’S parents.
Above the door in the rear hangs a smalt tin plate on which are painted the SOLDIER’S regimental number and the coat-of-arms of Dalecarlia. There is a window on either side of the door, both filled with potted plants. The floor is of pine boards, full of knot-holes and nail-heads, but scrubbed immaculately dean.
Half-way down the left wall is an open fireplace with a hood. On the same side, nearer the footlights, stands a wooden seat covered with brightly coloured home-made draperies.
Against the opposite wall stands a chest of drawers surmounted by a mirror, over which a white veil has been draped. A pair of candlesticks and a few simple ornaments are arranged in front of the mirror. A table and a wooden seat are placed between the chest and the footlights. On the wall above this seat hangs the SOLDIER’S old-fashioned musket, with stock of birch wood, stained yellow, red leather sling, and percussion-lock. His chaco, cartridge-case, and white bandoleer with bayonet are grouped around the musket. Below appears a portrait of King Charles XV of Sweden in full uniform.
A landscape with stacks of sheaves in the fields can be seen through the windows and the open door in the rear.
When the curtain rises, a maid servant is at work by the fireplace scouring and polishing copper pans, iron pots, and coffee-kettles.
The VERGER is seated at the table on the right-hand side engaged in polishing the brass numbers of the hymn-board, which is lying on the table beside him. There lies also the collection-bag of red velvet with embroideries in silver and a small bell attached to the bottom of it for the rousing of sleeping worshippers.
The SOLDIER, in undress uniform and forage-cap, is seated at the same table, looking over some papers on which he is making notes with a pencil, the point of which he wets from time to time.
Lit-karen and LIT-MATS stand beside the table, with their chins resting on the edge of it, watching the VERGER. Their eyes are agog, and their fingers in their mouths. The VERGER smiles at them and strokes their hair from time to time. The MOTHER is standing by the fireplace drying a couple of towels. As the curtain rises, the merry singing of girls is heard from the outside, but the atmosphere in the room is oppressive, and everybody is trying to lose himself in what he has at hand, forgetful of the rest.
GIRLS. [Singing outside; see musical appendix, Melody No. 14]
“When I was a little lassie, herding on the hill,
One day I lost the bell-cow and Gossamer, too.
I stood upon a rock and called and cried with a will,
Till I heard Gossamer begin to moo
In a pasture far, far away.
‘Hush,’ said Pine-tree,
‘She will surely find thee,’
Hemlock told me not to stumble;
Willow asked me not to grumble;
Birch-tree said I could not hope to miss a spanking.”
SOLDIER. [Looks up from his work and remarks phlegmatically to the MOTHER] Say, Mother!
MOTHER. We-ell?
SOLDIER. Was it three quarters we got off the place last year?
MOTHER. Yes, that’s right.
VERGER. Haven’t the girls come out of the bath yet?
MOTHER. No.... This business of the wedding takes a lot of people.... We should be bringing in the oats.... And it will soon be time to pick berries....
VERGER. Yes, the dog-days are most over. You can see it on the flies; they’re kind of drowsy.... Will there be a lot of berries this year?
MOTHER. Yes. [Silence.
SOLDIER. Will those girls never come back?
MOTHER. I don’t know what can be keeping them so long.
SOLDIER. It’s hot.
VERGER. It must be bad in camp.
SOLDIER. Well, it isn’t so very hard on the infantry....
VERGER. You were lucky to get leave.
SOLDIER. I guess I was!
MOTHER. Now they are coming.
SOLDIER. Did you see that they had something to eat and drink?
MOTHER. Yes, right in the bath, and plenty of it. [Silence.
The girls are heard outside, talking and laughing. KERSTI enters first, white-faced, with her wet hair streaming down her back. She is followed by BRITA, ANNA, and the four bridesmaids, ELSA, RICKA, GRETA, and LISA. The maids are carrying jars and wine-glasses which they put down by the fireplace. KERSTI, BRITA, and ANNA carry long bath-towels with coloured borders, which they hang up by the door.
The MOTHER puts a chair in the middle of the floor and makes KERSTI sit on it. KERSTI’S hair having first been carefully dried with towels, the MOTHER begins to comb it. The maids duster on the bench at the left. BRITA seats herself so that she can stare at KERSTI. No greetings are exchanged, and no emotion of any hind is shown.
MOTHER. Give me the mirror.
KERSTI. Don’t! I don’t want any mirror.
BRITA. You ought to look at yourself, as you won’t let anybody else see you.
KERSTI. What do you mean?
BRITA. Hard to tell, isn’t it?—Nice hair you’ve got. Can I have it, if it should come off?
KERSTI. No, you can’t!
MOTHER. What would you do with it?
BRITA. Watch-chain for Mats.
MOTHER. [To her daughter] Won’t you let Mats have it?
KERSTI. No, I won’t!
BRITA. [Taking from her skirt-bag the same piece of work on which she was employed in the previous scene] I’ll never be able to match the colour.
KERSTI. You can have it when I am dead.
BRITA. That’s a promise, but will you keep it?
KERSTI. I will! [Silence.
SOLDIER. Say, Mother.... Please keep quiet a while, children.... Do you know if the sergeant has been asked?
MOTHER. Vesterlund? Of course!
SOLDIER. It’s to be at four o’clock in the church, isn’t it?
MOTHER. That’s right.
SOLDIER. [Putting his papers together] Then I’ll go and see the Pastor now.... And I’ll go right on to the sexton.... [To himself] Hm-hm! That was that! Hm-hm!
[He goes out pensively without greeting anybody. Silence.
VERGER. Now, my dears, I hope you won’t touch anything.
LIT-KAREN. I’ll look after Lit-Mats and see that he doesn’t.
VERGER. So you’re going to look after him, are you?
MOTHER. Where are you going, father?
VERGER. To the store to get the crown, which should be back from the city by this time.
BRITA. [Sneeringly] Oh—the crown!
VERGER. [Rising] The goldsmith has had it, you know—to clean it with cream of tartar. That’s what you do with silver: you boil it in cream of tartar.
BRITA. [As before] Ha-ha!
MOTHER. [To the Verger] Wait a moment, and I’ll go along to the store.
VERGER. Is it safe to leave the children alone?
BRITA. What do you fear might happen?
MOTHER. Why, they are grown-up people!
BRITA. And Kersti likes to be alone for that matter. She can’t stand having anybody look at her....
MOTHER. Now, now!
BRITA. When she is bathing, she doesn’t want any company at all. But, of course, she’s grown-up, so she doesn’t have to be afraid....
KERSTI is turning and twisting to escape the stare of BRITA.
MOTHER. Keep still, girl!
BRITA. No, she’s no longer any child. She’s outgrown that, and a lot more. Perhaps the crown won’t fit her even? Have you tried it on?
VERGER. [Quietly] That’s what we are going to do in a little while.
He goes out accompanied by the MOTHER. Silence.
KERSTI seats herself at the table on the right-hand side and begins to play with the brass numbers.
BRITA. [Pursuing KERSTI with her stare] A merry wedding eve, isn’t it?
KERSTI. Do you want to play games?
BRITA. We might play “papa and mamma and the children.”
KERSTI. Would you like to guess riddles?
BRITA. I have already guessed....
KERSTI. Or sing?
BRITA. “Hush-a-bye, baby,” I suppose you mean?... No, let us read the Bible.
KERSTI. The Bible, you say?
BRITA. Yes—Genesis, thirty-fourth and eight.
KERSTI. About Shechem, you mean?
BRITA. Exactly, and about Dinah, for whom his heart was longing.... Do you know who Dinah was?
KERSTI. She was the daughter of Jacob and Leah.
BRITA. That’s right. And do you know what she was?
KERSTI. Is that a riddle?
BRITA. Not at all. Do you know what she was?
KERSTI. No.
BRITA. She was a little—spoiled!
KERSTI. Is that a play on words?
BRITA. More than that!
KERSTI lets her head fall forward as if wishing to hide her face.
BRITA. Do you understand? [Pause] Is Mrs. Larsson the only one you have asked?
KERSTI. Have I asked?... The midwife, you say?
BRITA. Well, so she says.
KERSTI. Then she is lying!
BRITA. As midwife she has been sworn, although I couldn’t tell whether her oath be false or fair. Just now she swears that she doesn’t lie.
KERSTI lets her head droop again.
BRITA. Hold up your head! Can’t you look people in the face?
KERSTI. [To the other girls] Say something, girls! [Silence.
BRITA. It’s hard to say anything when one has seen nothing. But nevertheless—one knows what one knows!
SHERIFF. [Appearing in the doorway] I am making free It won’t matter if an old fellow like me gets in to the girls—although the boys have to keep out!
BRITA. [Shaking her fist in the face of KERSTI] But you’ll never wear the crown!
KERSTI. You don’t say!
BRITA goes out.
The SHERIFF pulls up a chair and sits down beside KERSTI.
The girls sneak out of the room one by one. LIT-MATS stays behind, clinging to the skirt of KERSTI.
It is plain that the intentions of the SHERIFF are kindly, and so are his words, but the more discreet he tries to be, the more awkward he becomes, and so all his words assume an ambiguous meaning.
SHERIFF. [Taking one of KERSTI’S hands and looking her straight in the eyes] What sort of a bride is this, looking so sad when she is getting her heart’s desire? What is the matter?
KERSTI. With what?
SHERIFF. Is that the way to answer an old friend who will be a kinsman by this hour to-morrow? There is more than one lass who envies you, and who would like to get to the altar ahead of you to-morrow.
KERSTI. Maybe there is.
SHERIFF. And there is the new life ahead of you, in mill and kitchen. No more running about in the woods, where “birches nod in the blowing breeze.” No more dancing in the barns on Saturday nights. You’ll be busy ‘tending your pots, and watching the cradle, and having the meals on the table when Mats comes home, and—keeping an even temper when the dark days arrive—for after sunshine there is sure to be a little rain. Does it scare you to find life so serious, dear? It isn’t as bad as it looks. It merely helps to make life kind of solemn.
KERSTI. Oh!
SHERIFF. What are you oh-ing about, girl?—There seems to be something in the air that has no place in the thoughts of a young girl—something amiss. Now, my dear, let me see if I can’t straighten it out. [Jestingly] The guardian of the law knows how to get the truth out of all sorts of people. What’s on your mind, dear? Has Mats been nasty to you?
KERSTI. Oh, mercy!
SHERIFF. Has the family been playing the high-and-mighty? What have you to do with the family anyhow?
LIT-MATS climbs into the lap of KERSTI, puts his arms about her, nestles up to her as close as he can get, and falls asleep.
SHERIFF. Look at that little chap now! He likes his sister-in-law, and that’s a good sign. Children always know their real friends. Are you fond of children, Kersti?
KERSTI. [Suspiciously] Why do you ask?
SHERIFF. That’s not the right kind of an answer!... Don’t you think it’s nice to have a little thing like that—to hold it on your lap and feel how it trusts you—just as if there could never be any harm or deceit in the bosom that shelters it.... I think he’s falling asleep. Helpless as he is, he’s not afraid of trusting his sleep to a stranger—who means nothing but well by him, I am sure.
KERSTI. Have you seen anything of Mats?
SHERIFF. He was busy with the boys making the mill ready for the dance to-morrow. [Silence] It’s some time since we saw a crown bride in this place.
KERSTI. Is that so?
SHERIFF. Yes, indeed. The old ways are gone, and new ones have come in—from the cities and the camps....
KERSTI. [Pertly] They used to blame the fellows who came to buy the timber.
SHERIFF. Yes, but if it hadn’t been for them, there would have been no mill....
KERSTI. They are always putting the blame on somebody else....
SHERIFF. You are getting a nice husband, Kersti....
KERSTI. Yes, he’s fine—too fine for me!
SHERIFF. That’s a bitter answer to a kind word!
KERSTI. There was nothing bitter about it—nothing but the truth....
SHERIFF. Why should it be so hard for us to understand each other? It looks almost as if you didn’t want us to be friends?
KERSTI. Why do you think so?
SHERIFF. What is well meant, you take badly, and the other way around. Well—that happens frequently when there is something amiss.
KERSTI. What’s amiss?
SHERIFF. I don’t know.
KERSTI. Neither do I, but it isn’t customary to say things like that to a young girl.
SHERIFF. Now, now!—Where there’s no sick conscience, you don’t have to walk in your stocking feet—but, but, but....
KERSTI. Has the examination begun already?
SHERIFF. I didn’t mean....
KERSTI. The—“guardian of the law” doesn’t know how to talk to ladies.
SHERIFF. [Sharply] Kersti!
KERSTI. What is it?
SHERIFF. [Looking hard at her] What do you mean? KERSTI. What do you mean yourself?
SHERIFF. Lo and behold! That’s just the kind of questions asked by my ladies when they want to find out whether I know anything.
KERSTI. What could there be to know?
SHERIFF. Whew—is the wind in that corner? Well, well! [Silence] Well—I guess I’ll be going! Yes, I had better be going!
He goes out by the rear door, stepping very softly and putting his forefinger across his lips as if meaning to enforce silence on himself.
KERSTI, left alone, kisses the head of the sleeping LIT-MATS.
MATS appears at the right-hand window.
The twilight has come, but it is the lingering, luminous twilight of the northern summer night.
MATS. Hey!
KERSTI. Mats! Oh, come here!
MATS. I mustn’t come in—I have promised.
KERSTI. Yes, do!
MATS. No, no!—Is the little one asleep?
KERSTI. This one—yes!—Hush! Hush!
A bugle-call is faintly heard in the distance. It is the summons to evening service in the camp of the regiment to which KERSTI’S father belongs. (See the musical appendix, Melody No. 15.)
KERSTI. [Scared] Are they hunting again?
MATS. No, who would be hunting at this time of day?
KERSTI. What is it?
MATS. A soldier’s daughter you are, and don’t know!
KERSTI. Tell me!
MATS. That’s at the camp, you know. They are calling them to evening prayers.
KERSTI. Of course—but everything seems strange and confused!
MATS. Come to the window, Kersti.
KERSTI. I think.... I’ll just put the little one away.
MATS. The little one, you say?
KERSTI. [Rises very carefully and carries LIT-MATS to the bench by the fireplace, where she pulls him down and covers him up] Hushaby, hushaby!
The singing of a hymn in unison is heard from the camp. KERSTI kneels beside the bench and tries to pray, bid merely wrings her hands in despair. At last she kisses the shoes of the sleeping child, struggles to her feet, and goes to window.
MATS. There is something nice about children, isn’t there?
KERSTI. Yes—yes!
MATS. Are you alone?
KERSTI. Yes, they left! Hating me—all of them!
MATS. To-morrow is our wedding-day!
KERSTI. Yes—think of it!
MATS. Yes, think of it—to-morrow is our wedding-day!
KERSTI. And I shall be living in the mill!
MATS. In the mill with me!
KERSTI. Till death us do part!
MATS. Which won’t be soon!
KERSTI. Oh!
Curtain.
FOURTH SCENE
The wedding. The living-room at the mill has been cleared for the occasion. The big doors in the rear stand wide open. Through the doorway is seen a large loft, where a number of tables have been spread for the impending feast, of which coffee is to form one of the principal features. The shutters covering the rectangular opening to the left of the main doorway are also open, disclosing a table with several candlesticks on it. On this table the fiddlers subsequently take up their position.
The opening to the water-wheel appears to the right of the main door. The hand-loom, the bobbin, the reel, and the spinning-wheel have disappeared.
On the floor, beneath the place reserved for the fiddlers, stands the “old men’s table,” with a full equipment of jugs, mugs, pipes, and playing-cards.
A number of chairs and benches occupy the middle of the floor, and on these are spread clean white sheets, pillow-cases, and towels for drying.
As the curtain rises, six servant-girls are busily grinding coffee on as many hand-mills, while from the outside are heard the ringing of church-bells and a bridal march played on violins. When the coffee is ground, the girls begin to gather up the linen and sing while they are doing so.
GIRLS. [Singing; see musical appendix, Melody No. 16]
“Dillery-deering!
Twelve in the clearing:
Twelve men glare at me,
Twelve swords flare at me.
Kine they are slaughtering;
Sheep they are quartering;
Naught but my life they’re leaving:
Dillery-deering!”
The bridal procession is drawing near. The girls put the benches and chairs where they belong and go out with their burdens of linen.
The stage is left empty for a few moments, all the sounds previously heard having died out.
Then the song of the NECK is heard from the water-wheel, while he himself remains unseen.
NECK. [Singing outside] “I am hoping, I am hoping, that my Redeemer still liveth.”
The trap-door in the floor is raised and the MEWLER ascends from the hole: a blurred mass of white veils beneath which the outlines of a small infant in long clothes are barely discernible. This apparition remains hovering above the opening in the floor.
Then the bridal march is again heard outside. The song of the NECK ceases, and the MEWLER disappears, the trap-door falling back into its wonted position.
The bridal procession enters the room. First come the fiddlers, then the bridesmaids and bridesmen. After these come the bride and the groom, and then follow the PASTOR, the parents of the couple, the members of both families, friends, and young people. Everybody seems depressed, and the entrance is made in gloomy silence.
The bride is led to a chair in the middle of the floor, placed so that she must face the trap-door in the floor. She is very pale and does not look up at all. The guests pass in front of her as in review. Now and then one stops and says a few words to her. Little by little they disappear into the loft in the rear.
MATS. [To KERSTI] Now the worst is over, Kersti.
[He goes out.
BRITA. [Heading the bridesmaids, to KERSTI] You have got the crown—see that you keep it! [She and the maids go out.
KERSTI’S MOTHER. [Making sure that the crown is on straight] Keep your back straight and your head high, girl!
[She goes out.
SOLDIER. [To KERSTI] God bless you! [Goes out.
VERGER. [To KERSTI] And protect you! [Goes out.
MATS’S GRANDFATHER. [To KERSTI] Comely you are as I am homely! [Goes out.
MATS’S MOTHER. [To KERSTI] Your new family bids you welcome! [She goes out.
MATS ‘S FATHER. [To KERSTI] My daughter now—the old ties have been loosed! [He goes out.
SHERUT. [To KERSTI] Why so pale? What draws all the blood to your heart? What is weighing on it?
KERSTI. [Raising her head at last to give the SHERIFF a furious look] Nothing!
SHERIFF. So little is a lot!
KERSTI. Go!
SHERIFF. When you ride, I’ll go ahead of you—but we won’t be headed for the same place. When you kneel, I shall be standing, but the cold steel you’ll taste won’t be in my hands.
KERSTI. Oh, I wish you’d break your neck!
SHERIFF. [Putting the palm of his hand on her neck] Take care of your own! [He goes out.
The rest of MATS’S relatives file past her, greeting her coldly.
The fiddlers have in the meantime taken their places, and several old men have sat down at the table reserved for them and begun to smoke. Now the fiddlers strike up an old Swedish polka. (See the musical appendix, Melody No. 17.)
At the same time the NECK begins to play the melody heard in the first scene, but so powerfully that it sounds like two violins. (See musical appendix, Melody No. 18.)
As soon as the dance music is heard, cries of “Off with the crown!” are raised, first in the loft, and then in the living-room.
KERSTI becomes alarmed.
The PASTOR goes up to her.
FIDDLERS. [Crying, as they become aware of the playing of the NECK] Who is cutting in?
ALL. [Repeat without looking at the water-wheel or knowing from whence the strange music is heard] Who is cutting in?
Then the NECK ceases playing, while the fiddlers continue. The PASTOR takes the bride by the hand and begins to lead her around the room in a stately and solemn manner. Just as he puts his arm about KERSTI’S waist in order to open the dance with her the NECK begins to play again.
KERSTI. [Dropping the crown, which rolls into the mill-race] Jesus Christ!
All the people in the living-room get on their feet and cry: “The crown’s in the mill-race!”
Those in the rear room shout back: “What’s up?”
Those in the living-room repeat: “The crown’s in the mill-race!”
The fiddlers suddenly stop their playing. The whole place is in wild commotion.
MATS. [Appearing in the doorway] We must look for it!
ALL. We must look for it!
PASTOR. God help us and protect us!
ALL. God help us and protect us!
SHERIFF. Let us look for it!
ALL. Let us look for it!
MATS. Yes, let’s look!
All disappear by the rear door, leaving KERSTI alone on the stage. She seats herself on the same chair as before. In the meantime the stage has gradually been darkened.
The water-wheel begins to turn.
NECK. [Appears in the wheel with his harp, and sings]
“Stilled are the waters, dark grows the sky:
Dark grows the sky.
Once in the world of the ages I lived,
Blessed by the sun.
Gone is the light,
Conquered by night.
Deep is my sin,
Black as the tarn.
Joy there is none;
Plenty of woe.
Torture and Shame must I name my abode:
O!”
When the NECK begins to sing, the trap-door flies open right at the feet of KERSTI, and the MEWLER appears as before.
At first KERSTI stares at the apparition with horror. Then she seizes it and presses it to her breast.
The NECK stops his song and disappears. Instead the voice of a child (the MOCKER) is heard from the opening in the floor.
MOCKER. Cold is the river; warm is my mother’s bosom. Nothing you gave me in life: in death I take what is mine!
KERSTI. [Who has been rocking the MEWLER on her arm, puts a hand to her breast as if feeling acute pain] Oh, help! Save me!
MIDWIFE. [Trips in fussily] Here I am! Here I am! Mustn’t take on like that! [She takes the MEWLER from KERSTI and drops it through the hole in the floor] I know how to handle little ones! I help them into the world and out of it.... And I got to the wedding after all!
BRITA has in the meantime appeared where the fiddlers were seated before, and she has seen the MIDWIFE hide something under the floor.
MIDWIFE. The Neck was also asked, I understand. Did he come?
KERSTI. What will you take to get out of here?
MIDWIFE. What you have lost!
KERSTI. You mean the crown?
MIDWIFE. Not exactly.... Hush! I think I heard somebody!... Then I’ll hide in the fireplace for a while.... I got here after all, as you see!
She steps into the fireplace and closes the iron shutters behind her.
BRITA. [Enters and goes up to KERSTI] Now it’s you or me!
KERSTI. You, then!
BRITA. A present is waiting for you.
KERSTI. Let’s see!
BRITA. Bracelets—but not from me! [Silence] Bracelets of steel! [She places herself on the trap-door] Now my foot is on your head and on your heart! Now I shall stamp your secret out of the earth, or the water, or the fire—wherever it may be! [Silence] Now I shall have your hair for my watch-chain, which is not what it seems. Where is the Midwife? Where is the guest of honour at this virginal wedding? You stole the crown, and the Neck stole it from you. You have stolen the mill, but it will be returned. Shechem’s Dinah has proved not only spoiled, but soiled! The little one is asleep, not in the forest, but in the river! You have put my brother to shame, and our whole family, and the name that we bear! And now you shall die!
KERSTI. [Submissively] I am dead! I have been dying for days.... Are you satisfied now?
BRITA. No, you shall go on dying for days to come! You shall die for perjury, falsehood, murder, theft, slander, deceit! You shall die six times over! And when you really die the seventh time, it will seem so only! You shall not rest in consecrated ground! You shall have no black coffin with stars of silver on it! You shall have no spruce strewn and no bells rung....
KERSTI. I suppose not!
BRITA. Therefore [Heavy steps are heard outside] Do you hear those steps? Count them! [She counts in time with the approaching steps of the SHERIFF] One, two, three, four, five, six....
The SHERIFF enters from the rear. BRITA goes to him and whispers something in his ear.
SHERIFF. It’s here, you say?
BRITA. Not the crown, I guess!
SHERIFF. Something else, then! [He raises the trap-door and looks down] No, it is not the crown! Poor Kersti! Did you put it there?
KERSTI. I did not!
SHERIFF. No?—Tell the truth!
KERSTI. I did not put it there!
BRITA. [Striking her on the mouth] The truth!
KERSTI. I did not put it there!
BRITA. [Putting her hand in the Sheriff’s pocket and taking out a pair of handcuffs] On with the bracelets!
SHERIFF. [To BRITA] Born executioner—that’s what you are! [He puts his hands to his face and weeps] God have mercy on us!
PASTOR. [Entering from the rear] Has it been found?
SHERIFF. Not that, but....
PASTOR. Say no more! I know.... [Putting his hands to his face and weeping] God have mercy on us!
SOLDIER. [Entering from the rear] Have you found the crown?
SHERIFF. Not that, but....
SOLDIER. Enough! I know....
[Begins to weep, with his hands to his face.
KERSTI’S MOTHER. [Entering from the rear] Have you found the crown?
SHERIFF. No, no!
MOTHER. Oh!
She looks hard at KERSTI, who is holding out her hands to meet the handcuffs, which BRITA puts on her.
MOTHER. [Screaming] Oh!
Snatching up a pair of shears, she cuts off KERSTI’S hair and throws it to BRITA, who catches it and sniffs at it as if enjoying its odour. The MOTHER then strips her daughter of the veil and other bridal ornaments. At last she throws a shawl over her head.
MATS. [Entering from the rear, stops in front of KERSTI and looks at her in surprise] Who is that?
BRITA. Look well!
MATS. [Looking more closely at KERSTI] She reminds me of somebody!
BRITA. Look well!
MATS. I don’t know her.
BRITA. Grant God you never had!
MATS. The eyes are different.... But the mouth—that sweet mouth—and the little chin.... No, it is not she! [He turns away from KERSTI and catches sight of the open trap-door] What’s that? You are standing here as if it were a grave....
BRITA. It is a grave!
MATS. Of what?
BRITA. Of everything—everything that made your life worth while!
MATS. That means the little one!—Who did it?
BRITA. [Pointing to KERSTI] She, and she, and she!
MATS. It is not true!
All who were in the room at the beginning and who left to look for the crown, have gradually returned, and are now crowded together in the background, no one saying a word or making the least noise.
BRITA. It is true!
MATS. You liar!
SOLDIER. [To BRITA] You liar born of liars!
MATS’S RELATIVES. [Gathering on the left side of KERSTI] You liar born of thieves and liars! That’s you!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES [Gathering on her right side] No, that’s you!
PASTOR. Peace! Peace! In the name of the Lord!
ALL. Peace.
SHERIFF. No one must be condemned untried!
ALL. Let us hear!
SHERIFF. Who brings the charge?
ALL. Who brings the charge?
BRITA. I, Brita Lisa Larsson.
ALL. Brita Lisa Larsson brings the charge. Against whom?
BRITA. Against Kersti Margaret Hansdaughter.
ALL. Against Kersti Margaret Hansdaughter!—What is the charge?
BRITA. If bride be spoiled, the crown is forfeit!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. And your evidence?
BRITA. Two witnesses make valid evidence.
MATS’S RELATIVES. Two witnesses make valid evidence!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. We challenge them!
SHERIFF. No challenging without good cause!
BRITA. “If unmarried woman puts away child that comes to its death, the life of the mother shall be forfeit!”
MATS’S RELATIVES. Her life is forfeit!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. [Drawing closer with menacing gestures] “Empty-headed men and meanly tempered never know that they are far from faultless.”1—The fault is Mats’s!
MATS’S RELATIVES. The fault is not Mats’s!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. The fault is his who did the deed!
MATS’S RELATIVES. [With raised fists] What deed? You had better ask Kersti!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. Ask her!
SHERIFF. [To KERSTI] Did you kill the child?
KERSTI. I did!
MATS’S RELATIVES. There you hear!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. God have mercy!
MATS’S RELATIVES. Now you can hear!
MATS has been standing at the fireplace lost in thought, with his back to the rest. Suddenly he tears off everything that indicates his character of bridegroom. After a brief moment of hesitation, he leaps like mad on the table in the rear and disappears through the opening where the fiddlers were seated before.
PASTOR. [Who has been weeping silently, with his hands covering his face, goes to the open trap-door and says]
“To the dead
Give peace, O Lord,
And console
The living!”2
All bend their heads, shade their faces with one hand, and pray in silence, as the custom is when the Lord’s Prayer is read in a Swedish church or at a grave.
PASTOR. May the Lord bless you and protect you!
ALL. [With their faces buried in their hands] Amen!
Everybody leaves silently and sadly. When KERSTI alone remains, the SHERIFF locks the doors in the rear. Then he fastens the shutters covering the opening where the fiddlers were seated.
From the fireplace is heard a loud noise as of thunder.
NECK. [Appears in the water-wheel with his fiddle and plays and sings as before] “I am hoping, I am hoping that thy Redeemer still liveth.”
This he repeats several times, while KERSTI is kneeling on the floor with her handcuffed arms raised toward heaven.
The CHILD IN WHITE enters from behind the fireplace with a basket full of spruce branches and flowers.
The NECK stops singing and disappears.
The CHILD IN WHITE strews the spruce branches on the floor so that a green path is formed to the edge of the trap-door. When he has reached this, he drops flowers into the hole, from which the bell-like notes of the harmonica are heard.
Unseen by KERSTI, he goes up to her, places his hands on her head and stands still with upturned face as if in prayer.
The face of KERSTI, which until then has shown deep despair, assumes an expression of quiet happiness.
Curtain.
FIFTH SCENE
The porch of a country church appears at the right in the foreground. It is brilliantly white, with a roof of black shingle. Near the entrance is a sort of pillory, at the foot of which KERSTI lies in penitential garb, with the hood pulled forward to cover her face.
A big lake, surrounded by a typical Dalecarlian landscape, forms the background. At the foot of the open place before the church is a boat-landing. A point of land projects into the lake at the right, and there stands the scaffold, consisting of a simple wooden platform with a block on it. Two soldiers, fully armed, stand “at ease” by the entrance to the porch, from within which an organ prelude is heard when the curtain rises.
Two large “church-boats” (of the kind used on Lake Siljan in Dalecarlia) gliding slowly forward from opposite directions, arrive at the landing simultaneously. The rowers have raised their oars and appear to be disputing about the right of landing.
Mats’s relatives are in the boat at the left; KERSTI’S RELATIVES in the boat at the right.
MATS’S RELATIVES. Look out, Mewlings!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. Look out, millers!
MATS’S RELATIVES. [Raising their oars in menace] Look out!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. [In the same way] Look out!
MATS’S RELATIVES. Can you match us with eight pairs?
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. With sixteen, if needs be! Come on!
MATS’S RELATIVES. At ’em! At ’em!
They begin to fight with the oars.
PASTOR. [Standing bareheaded in prow of the boat at the left] Peace! Peace in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ!
KERSTI’S RELATIVES. Peace!
MATS’S RELATIVES. War! War on life and death!
PASTOR. Peace!
MATS’S RELATIVES. War!
The VERGER comes running from the porch, seizes the bell-rope and begins to toll the bell.
At the first stroke, all oars are lowered, the boats are brought to the landing and tied up side by side. The PASTOR is the first one to leave the boat at the left. He is followed by MATS, who carries a small white coffin trimmed with lace. Then the relatives and friends of MATS gradually step on shore.
The SOLDIER leaves the other boat ahead of all the rest and is followed by his wife. Then come the relatives and friends of KERSTI.
The people on both sides adjust their clothing while throwing angry glances at their opponents.
At last MATS with the coffin leads the way up to the church, followed by the PASTOR.
MATS. [Whose face shows intense despair, stops in front of KERSTI] Here is the little one now. He’s so light—as light as the mind of a bad woman. He’s asleep—and soon you will be sleeping, too.
KERSTI. [Raising her head so that the hood falls back] O!
Mats. “O,” indeed! It’s the end, while A is the beginning. Between those two lie many letters, but the last one of all is O. Cry “O” again—the last time of all—so that the little one may hear it. He will tell the Lord and the Saviour, and ask them to forgive you! No? Well, kiss his white coffin then—kiss it where his small feet are resting—the small, small feet that never had a chance to tread this sinful earth! [KERSTI kisses the coffin] That’s right! Now we’ll take him into the church and play and sing and toll the bells over him—but no clergyman can read him into his grave—because of you! I will speak the words myself when we get to the grave. We’ll plant him in the sod like a seed in order that he may sprout and grow into a winged blossom. Some day, perhaps, he will spread his wings and fly to heaven—lifted by the wind when the midsummer sun is shining!
PASTOR. [Taking MATS by the arm and drawing him toward the church] That’s enough, Mats! Come now!
MATS. I am coming.
They disappear into the porch, followed gradually by the rest.
SOLDIER. [Stops in front of KERSTI, shakes his head sadly and tries to find words] Well.... Well....
[He goes into the church.
KERSTI’S MOTHER. [Speaking drily, with a vain attempt to show emotion] Yes, here we are now!—Was it bad in the Castle?
KERSTI shakes her head.
MOTHER. Is there anything you want? To eat or drink—you can have it now, you know.... Did they give you any tobacco while you were in the Castle?
KERSTI shakes her head.
MOTHER. Keep your head high, Kersti, and don’t let the mill-folk put us to shame. Don’t weep so much either. Your father is a man of war, you know, and he can’t stand that kind of thing. [Handing her daughter a hymn-book] Take this book—and read where I have put the mark. And look at the mark—I got it from some one—some one who is thinking of you in your moment of need. And it is a sure cure against the shakes Farther than this I won’t keep you company, Kersti.... I can’t—I really can’t, being as old as I am....
KERSTI. Do what you feel like, mother. I have found my comforter! I know that my Redeemer still liveth!
MOTHER. It’s all right, then, child. That’s all I wanted to know.... And you don’t want me to go with you?
KERSTI. No, mother, you must spare yourself.... You have had enough trouble on my account as it is.
MOTHER. Then I’ll take your word for it, so that the mill-folk won’t have anything to talk about. I take your word for it, so that I can tell them: “Kersti didn’t want it—it was her own will, and of course her last will was as good as law to me!” And that’s just what it is!
[She goes into the church.
BRITA. [Stops in front of KERSTI and points toward the scaffold] A queen you were, and a crown you wore: there’s your throne now, with heaven above and hell beneath!—Now you would be glad enough to be milking cows! Now you wouldn’t mind picking wood, and scouring pots, and cleaning shoes, and rocking the cradle—now, when you have brought shame on my family and your own, on our parish and our province, so that the whole country is talking of it! Fie on you!
KERSTI bends lower and lower over the hymn-book.
BRITA. My brother must carry your brat to the grave-my brother! But I shall keep you company to the block when you get spanked! I shall be your bridesmaid when you’re wedded to the axe! “There’s a corpse that isn’t dead, and a babe that wasn’t bred, and a bride without a wedding!”
LIT-MATS. Hush up, Brita! Kersti is nice!
BRITA. Indeed!
LIT-MATS. Yes, she is! But I don’t like her to have on that ugly cloak.... That would be right for you, Brita! Oh, Kersti, why are you lying here? Are you waiting for Communion? And why did you run away from the wedding? Who is lying in the white box? Is all this a fairy-tale? Do you know that I lost my doll—the one you gave me?... Oh, Kersti dear, why are you so sorry?
[He throws his arms about her neck.
KERSTI. [Taking him on her lap and kissing his shoes] Oh, Lit-Mats, Lit-Mats!
BRITA. [To the soldiers] Is that allowed?
The soldiers stand at attention, but make no reply.
BRITA. [Taking LIT-MATS away from KERSTI] Come on now!
KERSTI. [To LIT-MATS] Go with your sister, Lit-Mats! And you had better keep away from me!
[She begins to read in a low voice out of the hymn-book.
BRITA. [To KERSTI] Shall I tell him?
KERSTI. For God’s sake, don’t tell the child!
BRITA. For the child’s sake, I won’t!
KERSTI. Thank you, Brita—for the child’s sake!
BRITA goes into the church with LIT-MATS. The only ones that remain outside are KERSTI and the two soldiers.
The HEADSMAN enters from the right, carrying a black box. He keeps in the background and does not look in the direction of KERSTI.
KERSTI. [Catching sight of him] Christ Jesus, Saviour of the world, help me for the sake of Thy passion and death!
MIDWIFE. [Enters from the left and goes up to the HEADSMAN] Listen, my dear man.... If it comes off, would you mind my getting quite close to it?... I need a little of that red stuff, you know—for a sick person—one who has the falling sickness....
The HEADSMAN goes out to the left without answering.
MIDWIFE. Oh, he is of the kind that won’t listen. [Going to KERSTI] Ah, there you are, my dear....
KERSTI. [With a deprecatory gesture] Begone!
MIDWIFE. [Keeping behind the pillory so that she cannot be seen by the soldiers] Wait a little! Wait a little! Listen now, my dear! I can do what others can’t! The hour is near, and the black one is waiting!
KERSTI. In the name of Christ Jesus, begone!
MIDWIFE. Listen! I can do what others can’t! I can set you free!
KERSTI. I have found my Saviour! His name is Christ Jesus!
MIDWIFE. I can make the judge as soft as wax....
KERSTI. He who shall judge the quick and the dead; He who is the resurrection and the life: He has sentenced me to death in the flesh, and to—life everlasting.
MIDWIFE. Look at the soldiers! They have gone to sleep! Take my cloak and run!
KERSTI. Are the soldiers asleep?
MIDWIFE. Their eyes are closed!—Run, run, run!
KERSTI rises and looks at the soldiers, who have closed their eyes.
MIDWIFE. Run, run, run!
KERSTI. [Lying down again] No, much better is it to fall into the hands of the living God!—Depart from me!
She raises the hymn-book so that the golden cross on its front cover faces the MIDWIFE.
MIDWIFE. [Shrinking back] Shall we meet a Thursday night at the crossroads?
KERSTI. On the path to the cross I shall meet with my Redeemer, but not with you! Depart!
MIDWIFE. [Drawing away] There is a boat down at the shore—horse and carriage are waiting on the other side Mats is there, but the Sheriff not.... Run, run, run!
KERSTI [Struggling with herself] O Lord, lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil!
MIDWIFE. Shash-ash-ash-ash! Horse and carriage!
KERSTI seizes the bell-rope and pulls it three times. At the third stroke of the bell, the MIDWIFE takes flight.
MIDWIFE. Ad-zee! Ad-zee! Ad-zee! [She disappears.
The CHILD IN WHITE comes forward from behind one of the pillars of the porch. His dress is that worn by girls at Rättvik, Dalecarlia (the one with liberty cap, white waist and striped apron, which is probably more familiar to foreigners than any other Swedish peasant costume), but all its parts are white, including the shoes.
KERSTI. [As if blinded by his appearance] Who are you, child—you who come when the evil one departs?
The CHILD IN WHITE puts a finger across his lips.
KERSTI. White as snow, and white as linen.... Why are you so white?
CHILD IN WHITE [In a low voice] Thy faith has saved thee! Out of faith has sprung hope! [He goes toward KERSTI.
KERSTI. Please, dear, don’t step on the ant!
CHILD IN WHITE. [Stoops and picks up something on a leaf] But the greatest of these be love—love of all living things, great or small! Now I shall send this ant into the woods to tell the king of all the ants, so that the little people may come here and gnaw the ropes to pieces, and you will be set free.
KERSTI. No, no! Don’t talk like that!
CHILD IN WHITE. Doubt not—but believe! Believe, Kersti!—Believe!
KERSTI. How can I?
CHILD IN WHITE. Believe!
He steps behind the pillar again and disappears.
The stage grows darker.
NECK. [Appears with his harp in the middle of the lake and sings to the same melody as before] “I am hoping, I am hoping, that thy Redeemer still liveth!”
KERSTI. He sings of my Redeemer! He brings hope to me, who denied it to him!
The NECK sinks beneath the waters.
SHERIFF. [Enters reading a document; he approaches a few steps at a time, now looking at the ground, and now at the paper in his hand] Kersti!
KERSTI looks up, only to drop her head at once.
SHERIFF. [Slowly and with frequent pauses] Behold the Sheriff!—You are only scared by him!—Do you think everybody feels like that? Suppose that the Sheriff has been summoned to help some one in a moment of dire need. Do you think he will be welcome then? Of course, he will!... Did you ever see such a lot of ants, Kersti?
KERSTI raises her head again and becomes attentive.
SHERIFF. Look at them! Files of them, and whole hosts! Look!—Do you know what that means? It is a good omen! But, of course, you never expect anything good to come from me. You wouldn’t believe it that time either—and that’s what led to your exposure! Look at those ants! Look at them! They are making straight for you, Kersti. Are you not afraid of them?
KERSTI. I used to be, but I am not.
SHERIFF. Big wood-ants, and I think the ant-king himself is with them. Do you know what can be done by the King, and by no other authority? Do you know that? All other authorities can pass judgment—all of them can do that—harshly or mercifully; but there is only one that can grant pardon. That’s the King!—Shall we ask the antking if he will grant pardon? [He puts his hand to his ear as if to hear better] Would your Majesty be willing to pardon her—that is, in regard to the worst part?... Did you hear what he answered? I thought he said yes. But I may have been mistaken.... And being the Sheriff, I can’t go by hearsays, but must have everything in writing. Let us ask the ant-king to write it down. He has plenty of pens—sharp as needles—and he has ink of his own, that burns. If we could only find a piece of paper! [He pretends to search his pockets, and finally he brings out the paper he was reading when he entered] Oh, here we are! Look at this! The King has written it with his own hand. Do you see? C-A-R-L, which makes Carl. [He raises his cap for a moment in salute] You haven’t seen such big letters since you went to school, Kersti. And look at the red seal—that smelled like resin in the woods when the sealing-wax still was warm. And look at the silken cords, yellow and blue—and all these lions and crowns.... That’s royal, every bit of it!... Read it yourself, Kersti, while I give my orders to the soldiers.
KERSTI takes the paper from his hand and reads.
The SHERIFF turns to the soldiers and says something that cannot be heard by the public.
The soldiers leave.
When KERSTI has finished reading she hands the document back to the SHERIFF in a quiet, dignified manner.
SHERIFF. Are you glad, Kersti?
KERSTI. I am thankful that my family and yours will be spared the greatest shame of all. I cannot be glad, for eternal life is better than a life in fetters.
SHERIFF. Regard it as a time of preparation.
KERSTI. I will!
SHERIFF. Are you still afraid of me?
KERSTI. Having looked death in the face, I fear nothing else.
SHERIFF. Come with me, then.
KERSTI. You must set me free first.
The SHERIFF unties the ropes with which she has been bound.
An organ prelude is heard from the church.
KERSTI stretches her arms toward heaven.
Curtain.
SIXTH SCENE
The stage represents the frozen surface of a big lake, the shores of which form the background. Deep snow covers the ice. Tall pine branches stuck into the snow serve to mark the tracks used in crossing the lake.
In the centre of the stage, toward the background, a large rectangular opening has been cut in the ice. A number of small spruce-trees have been set along the edges of it to warn against danger.
Long-tailed ducks (Heralda glacialis or Clangula glacialis) are floating on the open water. Now and then one of them utters its peculiarly melodious cry. (See musical appendix, Melody No. 19.)
A number of short fishing-rods are placed along the edges of the open water, with their lines out.
A gloomy old structure with turrets and battlements appears on the shore in the background. It is known as the “Castle”, but is in reality a penitentiary.
It is about daybreak.
The FISHERMAN enters from the right dressed in a sheepskin coat and hauling a sledge on which lies an ice-hook. All the ducks dive when he comes in sight. He begins to examine his fishlines.
MIDWIFE. [Entering from the left] How dare you fish on Easter Sunday?
FISHERMAN. I am not fishing—I’m just looking.
MIDWIFE. Perhaps you, who are so clever, can also tell a poor, strayed old woman where she is?
FISHERMAN. If you give me a light.
MIDWIFE. If you have flint and steel.
FISHERMAN. [Handing her two pieces of ice] Here they are.
MIDWIFE. Ice? Well, water is fire, and fire is water!
She tears off a piece of her cloak to serve as tinder; then, she strikes the two pieces of ice against each other; hiving set the tinder on fire in that way, she hands it to the FISHERMAN, who lights his pipe with it.
FISHERMAN. Oh, you are that kind? Then I know where I am.
MIDWIFE. But where am I?
FISHERMAN. In the middle of Krummedikke’s lake, and over there you see his castle. He was a king who lived long, long ago, and, like Herod, he caused all male babes to be slain because he was afraid for his crown. But now his castle holds all the girls who have not been afraid for theirs.
MIDWIFE. What are they doing in there?
FISHERMAN. Spinning flax.
MIDWIFE. That’s the jail, then?
FISHERMAN. That’s what it is.
MIDWIFE. And the lake?
FISHERMAN. Oh, it’s a good one! There used to be dry land where the lake is now, and on that piece of land stood a church, and that church started a feud. It was a question of pews, you see. The mill-folk, who thought themselves above the rest, wanted to sit next to the altar, but the Mewlings were the stronger. One Easter Sunday it broke loose, right in the nave, and blood was shed. The church was profaned so that it could never be cleansed again. Instead it was closed up and deserted, and by and by it sank into the earth, and now there are fifty feet of water above the weathercock on the spire. By this time the lake has been washing it and washing it these many hundred years, but as long as mill-folk and Mewlings keep on fighting, the temple will never be cleansed.
MIDWIFE. Why are they called Mewlings?
FISHERMAN. Because they are descended from Krummedikke, who slew the infants.
MIDWIFE. And they are still fighting?
FISHERMAN. Still fighting, and still slaying.... You remember, don’t you, Kersti, the soldier’s daughter?
MIDWIFE. Of course, I do.
FISHERMAN. She is in the Castle, but to-day she will be out to do her yearly public penance at the church.
MIDWIFE. Is that so?
FISHERMAN. The Mewlings are coming to bring her over, and the mill-folk are coming to look on.
MIDWIFE. Do you hear the ice tuning up?
FISHERMAN. I do.
MIDWIFE. Does it mean thaw?
FISHERMAN. Maybe.
MIDWIFE. Then the ice will begin to break from the shore?
FISHERMAN. Quite likely. But if the water should rise, the rapids down there will carry it off.
MIDWIFE. Are the rapids far from here?
FISHERMAN. Naw! You can hear the Neck quite plainly. To-day he will be up betimes, as he is expecting something.
MIDWIFE. What can he be expecting?
FISHERMAN. Oh, you know!
MIDWIFE. No, I don’t. Please tell me.
FISHERMAN. This is what they tell: Every Easter Sunday morning, at the hour when the Saviour ascended from his grave, the church of Krummedikke rises out of the lake. And he who gets a look at it has peace in his soul for the rest of the year.
MIDWIFE. [Gallops out toward the right] Ad-zee! Ad-zee! Ad-zee!
FISHERMAN. That was a bad meeting.... [He lands a fish and takes it from the hook] I got you!
The fish slips out of his hand and leaps into the water. The FISHERMAN tries to catch it with his dip-net. Then a whole row of fish-heads appear above the water.
FISHERMAN. Dumb, but not deaf! “What roars more loudly than a crane? What is whiter by far than a swan?”1
CHILD IN WHITE. [Dressed as in the preceding scene, enters on skis, carrying a torch;] The thunder of heaven roars more loudly than the crane, and he who does no evil is whiter than the swan.
The fish-heads disappear.
FISHERMAN. Who read my riddle?
CHILD IN WHITE. Who can free the prisoner from his bonds and set the tongue of the fish talking?
FISHERMAN. No one!
CHILD IN WHITE. No man by man begotten, but one born of the all-creative God.... He who has built the bridge of glass can break it, too!... Beware!
[He goes out to the right.
The FISHERMAN begins to gather up his implements.
The MILL-FOLK (MATS’S relatives) enter from the left; all are on skis and carry long staffs. MATS carries a torch.
MATS. Where is the winter road?
FISHERMAN. Do you mean the road of the fish in the water?
MATS. No, the road of the horse on the snow.
FISHERMAN. Does it lead to court or church?
MILL-FOLK. To church.
FISHERMAN. For the man who has lost his way, all roads lead to the rapids. [A rumbling noise is made by the ice] The roof is cracking!
MILL-FOLK. Where is the road to the church?
FISHERMAN. Everywhere!
MILL-FOLK. Where is the church?
FISHERMAN. You are standing on it, and walking over it, and soon it will be here.
MILL-FOLK. Is this Krummedikke’s lake?
FISHERMAN. It’s Krummedikke’s castle and Krummedikke’s lake; it’s Krummedikke’s church, and soon it will break.
MILL-FOLK. Lord have mercy! [They go out to the right.
The MEWLINGS (KERSTI’S relatives) enter from the left, on skis and carrying staffs. The SOLDIER carries a torch.
MEWLINGS. Is this the road to the church?
FISHERMAN. This is the road to the rapids! Turn back!
MEWLINGS. Ridges and open water everywhere! The floe is breaking loose!
FISHERMAN. Go eastward! The sun is tarrying.
MEWLINGS. Let’s go eastward! [They go out to the right.
The MILL-FOLK return from the right.
FISHERMAN. Turn back! The floe has broken loose down that way!
MILL-FOLK. And eastward, too! Let’s turn northward!
FISHERMAN. There’s the river!
MILL-FOLK. Southward, then!
FISHERMAN. There are the rapids!
MILL-FOLK. [Leaning dejectedly on their staffs] God have mercy on us!
MATS. The Mewlings put us on the wrong track.
BRITA. As they have always done!
FATHER. And they’ll be first at church!
GRANDFATHER. Never mind! But I can’t help regretting the day when I burned the papers.
MOTHER. Will there ever be peace?
GRANDMOTHER. “Men who are mild and gentle live in peace and know but little sorrow.”[2]
MILL-FOLK. [Raising their staffs] The Mewlings!
MEWLINGS. [Entering from the right, with raised staffs] Will you bide now, mill-folk? You put us on the wrong track!
MILL-FOLK. You liars!
MEWLINGS. The same to you!
MILL-FOLK. Quibblers!
MEWLINGS. And what are you?
The ice begins to crash and rumble.
FISHERMAN. Peace in the name of Christ Jesus! The water is rising!
ALL. [Crying aloud] The water is rising!
MATS’S GRANDFATHER. The ice is sinking. Stay where you are!
MATS’S GRANDMOTHER. To-day we must die, and then comes the day of judgment!
The MILL-FOLK embrace each other. The women pick up the children into their arms. The MEWLINGS do likewise.
MATS’S MOTHER. [To Mats] For the sake of your foolish fondness, we must die!
KERSTI’S MOTHER. “Another’s love should by no one be blamed: wise men are often snared by beauty, but fools never.”2
SOLDIER. “This fault of his should by no one be blamed: love, in its might, will often turn the sons of men from wisdom to folly.”3
MATS. [Holding out his hand to the SOLDIER] Thank you for those words! You are the man I named father for a brief while!
SOLDIER. “All at birth and death are equals.”
MATS’S FATHER. There you took the word away from me! Your hand!
SOLDIER. [Giving his hand after a little hesitation] Here it is! We are all Christians, and this is the great day of atonement. Let not the sun rise on our wrath!
MEWLINGS. Let us have peace!
MILL-FOLK. Yes, let us have peace!
The two parties are approaching each other with hands stretched out, when a terrific crash is heard, and the ice opens at their feet, separating them from each other.
MATS’S GRANDFATHER. Parted in life and parted in death!
MATS’S GRANDMOTHER. The bridge has broken under the burden of crime.
MATS’S MOTHER. Where is Kersti?
MILL-FOLK. Where is Kersti?
MEWLINGS. Where is Kersti?
SOLDIER. “And lo, it was expedient that one should die for the people.”
MATS’S GRANDFATHER. “Then said they unto him: What shall we do unto thee, that the sea may be calm unto us?”
KERSTI’S MOTHER. “Take me up, and cast me forth into the sea: for I know that for my sake this great tempest is upon you.”
MATS’S GRANDMOTHER. Is it settled?
ALL. It is settled!
KERSTI’S MOTHER. “Behold the fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?”
MEWLINGS. Where is Kersti?
MILL-FOLK. Where is Kersti?
The PASTOR enters, followed by the VERGER.
PASTOR. [To the Soldier] “And the Lord said: Lay not thine hand upon the child, for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thine only child from me.”
ALL. [To the Minister] Save us!
PASTOR. “There is but one God, the Saviour!” Let us pray!
All kneel on the ice.
PASTOR. “Out of the depths I cry unto thee, O Lord!”
ALL. “Lord, hear my voice!”
PASTOR. O Lord, have mercy!
ALL. Christ, have mercy!
The SHERIFF enters from the rear with a torch in his hand. He is followed by four soldiers, carrying the dead body of KERSTI between them.
All get on their feet.
PASTOR. Whom are you bringing with you?
SHERIFF. We are bringing the crown bride—Kersti!
PASTOR. Is she alive?
SHERIFF. She is dead. The waters took her!
PASTOR. May the Lord take her soul!
SOLDIER. O Lord, have respect unto our offering, as thou hast given thyself for us an offering.
PASTOR. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son!”
BRITA. The water is falling!
ALL. The water is falling!
The gap in the ice is closed up again.
MATS and BRITA walk over to the MEWLINGS, break branches from the spruces set in the snow, and spread these over the body of KERSTI.
PASTOR. Will there be peace after this?
ALL. Peace and reconciliation!
PASTOR. [Beside the body of KERSTI]
“To the dead
Give peace, O Lord,
And console
The living!”
In the background a church is seen rising out of the lake: first the gilded weathercock; then the cross resting on a globe; and finally the spire, the roof covered with black shingles, and the white walls of the round-arched church.
NECK. [Is heard playing and singing in the distance, but now his melody has been transposed into D minor] “I am hoping, I am hoping, that my Redeemer still liveth.”
PASTOR. Let us give praise and thanks unto the Lord!
ALL. We thank and praise thee, O Lord!
MATS and BRITA kneel beside the body of KERSTI. All the rest kneel around them and sing No. 6 from the “Old” Swedish Hymn-Book (which is a free rendering of Luther’s “Herr Gott, dich loben wir,” and practically identical with the Ambrosian “Te Deum laudamus”).
ALL. [Singing]
“O God, we give thee praise! O Lord, we give thee thanks! Eternal Father, whom the whole world worships!
Thy praise is sung by angels and all the heavenly powers; By Cherubim and Seraphim thy praise is sung incessantly: Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth!”
Curtain.
Notes
1 Old Swedish folk-riddle, the real solution of which is: the horizon.
2 An old Swedish folk-riddle, the answer of which is: a carriage. The four lines describe respectively: (1) the wheels; (2) the hoofs of the horses; (3) their ears; (4) their eyes.
1 Part of an old saw, the rest of which reads as follows: “when it was spanked for licking up the cream.”
1 From the Poetic Edda: “The Song of the High One.” See introduction.
2 From the Poetic Edda: “The Song of the Sun.” See introduction.
1 Old Swedish folk-riddle, the expected answers to the questions being respectively: the thunder and an angel.
2 From the Poetic Edda: “The Song of the High One.” See Introduction.
3 id. note 2.