Henrik Ibsens Prose Dramas, Vol III. | Page 2

Ah, you look; I tell you in the housefolk's room there is talk of many
things. (Lower.) They say that night by night a tall figure, clad in black,

walks the Banquet Hall.
BIORN. Old wives' tales!
FINN. Ah, but they all swear 'tis true.
BIORN. That I well believe.
FINN. The strangest of all is that Lady Inger thinks the same----
BIORN (starting). Lady Inger? What does she think?
FINN. What Lady Inger thinks no one can tell. But sure it is that she
has no rest in her. See you not how day by day she grows thinner and
paler? (Looks keenly at him.) They say she never sleeps--and that it is
because of the dark figure----
(While he is speaking, ELINA GYLDENLOVE has appeared in the
half-open door on the left. She stops and listens, unobserved.)
BIORN. And you believe such follies?
FINN. Well, half and half. There be folk, too, that read things another
way. But that is pure malice, for sure.--Hearken, Biorn-- know you the
song that is going round the country?
BIORN. A song?
FINN. Ay, 'tis on all folks' lips. 'Tis a shameful scurril thing, for sure;
yet it goes prettily. Just listen (sings in a low voice):
Dame Inger sitteth in Ostrat fair, She wraps her in costly furs-- She
decks her in velvet and ermine and vair, Red gold are the beads that
she twines in her hair-- But small peace in that soul of hers.
Dame Inger hath sold her to Denmark's lord. She bringeth her folk
'neath the stranger's yoke-- In guerdon whereof---- ----
(BIORN enraged, seizes him by the throat. ELINA GYLDENLOVE

withdraws without having been seen.)
BIORN. And I will send you guerdonless to the foul fiend, if you prate
of Lady Inger but one unseemly word more.
FINN (breaking from his grasp). Why--did I make the song?
(The blast of a horn is heard from the right.)
BIORN. Hush--what is that?
FINN. A horn. So we are to have guests to-night.
BIORN (at the window). They are opening the gate. I hear the clatter of
hoofs in the courtyard. It must be a knight.
FINN. A knight? A knight can it scarce be.
BIORN. Why not?
FINN. You said it yourself: the last of our knighthood is dead and gone.
(Goes out to the right.)
BIORN. The accursed knave, with his prying and peering! What avails
all my striving to hide and hush things? They whisper of her even
now----; ere long will all men be clamouring for----
ELINA (comes in again through the door on the left; looks round her,
and says with suppressed emotion). Are you alone, Biorn?
BIORN. Is it you, Mistress Elina?
ELINA. Come, Biorn, tell me one of your stories; I know you have
more to tell than those that----
BIORN. A story? Now--so late in the evening----?
ELINA. If you count from the time when it grew dark at Ostrat, it is
late indeed.

BIORN. What ails you? Has aught crossed you? You seem so restless.
ELINA. May be so.
BIORN. There is something the matter. I have hardly known you this
half year past.
ELINA. Bethink you: this half year past my dearest sister Lucia has
been sleeping in the vault below.
BIORN. That is not all, Mistress Elina--it is not that alone that makes
you now thoughtful and white and silent, now restless and ill at ease, as
you are to-night.
ELINA. You think so? And wherefore not? Was she not gentle and
pure and fair as a summer night? Biorn, I tell you, Lucia was dear to me
as my life. Have you forgotten how many a time, as children, we sat on
your knee in the winter evenings? You sang songs to us, and told us
tales----
BIORN. Ay, then your were blithe and gay.
ELINA. Ah, then, Biorn! Then I lived a glorious life in the fable-land
of my own imaginings. Can it be that the sea-strand was naked then as
now? If it were so, I did not know it. It was there I loved to go, weaving
all my fair romances; my heroes came from afar and sailed again across
the sea; I lived in their midst, and set forth with them when they sailed
away. (Sinks on a chair.) Now I feel so faint and weary; I can live no
longer in my tales. They are only--tales. (Rises hastily.) Biorn, do you
know what has made me sick? A truth; a hateful, hateful truth, that
gnaws me day and night.
BIORN. What mean you?
ELINA. Do you remember how sometimes you would give us good
counsel and wise saws? Sister Lucia followed them; but I--ah,
well-a-day!

BIORN (consoling her). Well, well----!
ELINA. I know it--I was proud and self-centred! In all our games, I
would still