Hakon’s Defiance

From the Danish by Sir Frank C. Lascelles From “Hakon Jarl” [Olaf Trygvesön from Ireland is trying to introduce Christianity, and reclaim his father’s kingdom, in Norway, and has invaded the realm of Earl Hakon, a formidable heathen usurper, who, after defeat in battle, unsuccessfully attempts to have King Olaf assassinated by Thorer Klake, one of his adherents. But Olaf slays Klake, and now visits Hakon, lying hid in a peasant’s hut.] Enter OLAF TRYGVESÖN, muffled up in a gray cloak, with a broad hat on his head. HAKON [without looking up].—My valiant Thorer Klake, hast come at last? Hast been successful? Dost thou bring to me What thou didst promise? Answer, Thorer Klake. OLAF.—All things have happened as they should, my lord; But pardon Thorer that he does not come And bring himself King Olaf’s head to thee— ’T was difficult for him. Thor knows he had A sort of loathing that himself should bring it, And so he sent me. HAKON.—Well, ’t is good; away, And deeply bury it in the dark earth. I will not look on it myself: my eye Bears not such sights,—they reappear in dreams. Bury the body with it. Tell thy lord That he shall come at once. OLAF.—He is asleep. HAKON.—Asleep? OLAF.—A midday slumber; he lies stretched Stiffly beneath a shadowy elder-tree. HAKON.—Then wake him up. [Aside.] Asleep, Asleep, and after such A deed—Ha! Thorer, I admire thee; Thou hast rare courage. [Aloud.] Thrall, go wake him up. OLAF.—But wilt thou first not look at Olaf’s head? HAKON.—No; I have said no. OLAF.—Thou dost think, my lord, That perhaps it is a horrid frightful sight: It is not so, my lord; for Olaf’s head Looks fresh and sound as any in the land. HAKON.—Away, I tell thee! OLAF.—I ne’er saw the like: I always heard that Hakon was a hero, Few like him in the North,—and does he fear To see a lifeless and a corpseless head? How wouldst thou tremble then, my lord, if thou Shouldst see it on his body? HAKON [turning round angrily].—Thrall, thou darest! Where hast thou got it? OLAF [takes his hat off, and throws off his cloak].—On my shoulders, Earl. Forgive me that I bring it thee myself In such a way: ’t was easiest for me. HAKON.—What, Olaf! Ha! what treachery is here? OLAF.—Old gray-beard, spare thy rash, heroic wrath. Attempt not to fight Olaf, but remember That he has still his head upon his body, And that thy impotent, gray-bearded strength Was only fitting for the headless Olaf. HAKON [rushes at him].—Ha, Hilfheim! OLAF [strikes his sword, and says in a loud voice].—So, be quiet now, I say, And sheathe thy sword again. My followers Surround the house; my vessels are a match For all of thine, and I myself have come To win the country in an honest fight. Thyself hast urged me with thy plots to do it. Thou standest like a despicable thrall In his own pitfall caught at last; but I Will make no use of these advantages Which fate has granted me. I am convinced That I may boldly meet thee face to face. Thy purpose, as thou seest, has wholly failed, And in his own blood does thy Thorer swim. Thou seest ’t were easy for me to have seized thee; To strike thee down were even easier still: But I the Christian doctrine do confess, And do such poor advantages despise. So choose between two courses. Still be Earl Of Hlade as thou wast, and do me homage, Or else take flight; for when we meet again ’T will be the time for red and bleeding brows. HAKON [proudly and quietly].—My choice is made. I choose the latter, Olaf. Thou callest me a villain and a thrall; That forces up a smile upon my lips. Olaf, one hears indeed that thou art young; It is by mockery and arrogance That one can judge thy age. Now, look at me Full in the eyes; consider well my brow: Hast thou among the thralls e’er met such looks? Dost think that cunning or that cowardice Could e’er have carved these wrinkles on my brow? I did entice thee hither. Ha! ’t is true I knew that thou didst wait but for a sign To flutter after the enticing bait; That in thy soul thou didst more highly prize Thy kinship with an extinct race of kings Than great Earl Hakon’s world-renownèd deeds; That thou didst watch the opportunity To fall upon the old man in his rest. Does it astonish thee that I should wish Quickly to rid myself of such a foe? That I deceived a dreamer who despised The mighty gods,—does that astonish thee? Does it astonish thee that I approved My warrior’s purpose, since a hostile fate Attempted to dethrone, not only me, But all Valhalla’s gods? OLAF.—Remember, Hakon,— Remember, Hakon, that e’en thou thyself Hast been a Christian; that thou wast baptized By Bishop Popo, and that thou since then Didst break thy oath. How many hast thou broken? HAKON.—Accursed forever may that moment be When by the cunning monk I was deceived, And let myself be fooled by paltry tricks. He held a red-hot iron in his hand, After by magic he had covered it With witches’ ointment. OLAF.—O thou blind old man! Thy silver hair does make me pity thee. HAKON.—Ha! spare thy pity; as thou seest me here, Thou seest the last flash and the latest spark Of ancient Northern force and hero’s life; And that, with all thy fever-stricken dreams, Proud youth, thou shalt be powerless to quench. I well do know it is the Christian custom To pity, to convert, and to amend. Our custom is to heartily despise you, To ruminate upon your fall and death, As foes to gods and to a hero’s life. That Hakon does, and therein does consist His villainy. By Odin, and by Thor, Thou shalt not quench old Norway’s warlike flame With all thy misty dreams of piety. OLAF.—’T is well: fate shall decide. We separate, And woe to thee when next we meet again. HAKON.—Aye, woe to me if then I crush thee not. OLAF.—Heaven shall strike thee with its fiery might! HAKON.—No, with his hammer Thor the cross will smite!