Look at these
warriors!
Warner - World's Best Literature - v18 - Mom to Old
'Nordens Guder' (The Gods of the North), the great
epic-cycle of the Scandinavian Pantheon, is the consummation of
Oehlenschläger's efforts to utilize the Norse mythology for the pur-
poses of modern poetry. 'Den Lille Hyrdedreng' (The Little Shep-
herd Boy) was a dramatic idyl so beautiful as almost to silence for
a time the critics of the poet. Hrolf Krake,' another considerable
poem, deals with the epic material previously handled by Ewald.
Öen i Sydhavet (The Isle in the Southern Sea) is a prose romance
of great length, the only important work of the sort attempted by
Oehlenschläger. The principal tragedies of these twenty years are
'Stærkodder,' 'Hagbarth og Signe,' 'Erik og Abel,' 'Væringerne i
Miklagaard' (The Varangians in Micklegarth), Karl den Store' (Karl
the Great), and Langbarderne' (The Lombards).
In the summer of 1829, the poet, just completing his fiftieth year.
made a holiday trip to Sweden, and was received with great enthusi-
asm. He took part in the annual celebration of the University of
Lund, presided over by Tegnér, the greatest of Swedish poets. Here
he was crowned in the Cathedral of Lund as "the Adam of skalds,
the king of Northern singers. " Immediately after the ceremony he
returned to Copenhagen, and a few days later had the pleasure of
receiving Tegnér upon Danish soil, where the festivities of Lund were
echoed. When his fiftieth birthday fell, he received a striking dem-
onstration from the students of his own University. The remaining
twenty years of his life (for he rounded out the full Scriptural tale)
were no less active than the twenty just preceding. They were
marked by the same uninterrupted succession of new productions; few
of which, however, proved worthy of his genius, although the old fire
and deep poetic feeling flashed out now and then, to the surprise of
both critics and friends. Among the tragedies of this closing period
the following may be named: Tordenskjold,' 'Sokrates' (the poet's
only dramatic handling of a Greek theme), 'Olaf den Hellige' (Olaf the
Holy), 'Dina,' and 'Amleth. ' The latter of these tragedies is partic-
ularly interesting as an attempt to reconstruct the historical Hamlet
of Saxo's chronicle, in contrast with Shakespeare's purely imaginat-
ive creation. Other works of this period were 'Norgesrejsen' (The
## p. 10751 (#631) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
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Journey to Norway), 'Digtekunsten' (The Art of Poetry), 'Örvarodds
Saga,' and 'Landet Fundet og Forsvundet' (The Found and Van-
ished Land), the latter a dramatic handling of the Norse discovery
of Vinland. His last production was a hero-poem upon the subject
of 'Regnar Lodbrok'; and ends with the pathetic words, "The old
skald sang for the last time of the old Norse heroes. " The poet's
'Erindringer' (Recollections), upon which he had been engaged for
several years, remained to be published after his death. The series
of works thus completed fills, in the standard edition, no less than
forty volumes, of which four contain the 'Erindringer,' ten the trage-
dies, and twenty-six the miscellaneous productions in verse and prose.
They stand as a lasting monument to the genius of the greatest poet
of Denmark; as the living memorial of their author's singularly rich,
fruitful, and fortunate career.
Outwardly, the score of years that crowned Oehlenschläger's life
were comparatively uneventful. A trip to Norway in 1833, and a
second visit to Sweden in 1847, were the most noteworthy episodes.
Meanwhile, in face of the broadening fame of the poet, and his
strengthened hold upon the minds and hearts of his fellow-country-
men, the wave of adverse criticism that had at one time risen so
high was steadily subsiding; and even his most determined opponents
came to recognize the indebtedness of the nation to the man who,
whatever his lapses from a high standard of production, had never-
theless created a new literature for Denmark, and awakened the
creative spirit that was now displaying itself on every hand.
It was
during these last years of Oehlenschläger's life that most of the men
arose who have shaped nineteenth-century Danish literature. These
were the years of the early successes of the novelists Ingemann,
Blicher, Goldschmidt, and St. Aubain; of the poets Hertz, Paludan-`
Müller, Winther, and Ploug; of the philosopher Kierkegaard, and the
story-teller Hans Christian Andersen. Widely divergent as were the
paths of these men, Oehlenschläger justly felt that they were all in
some sense his successors, and that he had given the impulse which
was resulting in so marked an expansion of the national literature.
And nearly all of these men joined to do him honor in the celebra-
tion of his seventieth birthday; an occasion which evoked tributes of
heartfelt admiration even from Heiberg and Grundtvig, his most
inveterate critics. A few weeks later, he lay upon his death-bed. At
his request, his son read to him a scene from his own 'Sokrates';
and he also expressed the wish that this tragedy should be presented
at the theatre as a memorial performance after his death. A few
hours later, towards midnight, January 20th, 1850, he passed quietly.
away, retaining full consciousness almost to the last moment. He
was buried in the Frederiksberg church-yard, where a massive block
## p. 10752 (#632) ##########################################
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ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
of stone marks his grave. Hans Christian Andersen tells us that
when a short time after the entombment, fresh wreaths were brought
to replace the old ones upon the grave, it was found that a song-
bird had made its nest in the withered leaves.
Atta Payer
THE DEDICATION OF ALADDIN›
TO GOETHE
B
ORN in far northern clime,
Came to mine ears sweet tidings in my prime
From fairy-land;
Where flowers eternal blow,
Where power and beauty go,
Knit in a magic band.
Oft, when a child, I'd pore
In rapture on the ancient saga lore;
When on the wold
The snow was falling white,
I, shuddering with delight,
Felt not the cold.
When with his pinion chill
The winter smote the castle on the hill,
It fanned my hair;
I sat in my small room,
And through the lamp-lit gloom
Saw Spring smile fair.
And though my love in youth.
Was all for Northern energy and truth,
And Northern feats,
Yet for my fancy's feast
The flower-appareled East
Unveiled its sweets.
To manhood as I grew,
From North to South, from South to North, I flew;
I was possessed
By yearnings to give voice in song
To all that had been struggling long
Within my breast.
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ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
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I heard bards manifold,
But at their minstrelsy my heart grew cold;
Dim, colorless, became
My childhood's visions grand;
Their tameness only fanned
My wilder flame.
Who did the young bard save?
Who to his eye a keener vision gave,
That he the child
Amor beheld, astride
The lion, far off ride,
Careering wild?
Thou, great and good! Thy spell-like lays
Did the enchanted curtain raise
From fairy-land,
Where flowers eternal blow,
Where power and beauty go,
Knit in a loving band.
Well pleased thou heardest long
Within thy halls the stranger-minstrel's song;
XVIII-673
Taught to aspire
By thee, my spirit leapt
To bolder heights, and swept
The German lyre.
Oft have I sung before;
And many a hero of our Northern shore,
With grave stern mien,
By sad Melpomene
Called from his grave, we see
Stalk o'er the scene.
And greeting they will send
To friend Aladdin cheerly as a friend:
The oak's thick gloom
Prevails not wholly where
Warbles the nightingale, and fair
Flowers waft perfume.
On thee, to whom I owe
New life, what shall my gratitude bestow?
Naught has the bard
## p. 10754 (#634) ##########################################
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ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Save his own song! And this
Thou dost not, trivial as the tribute is,
With scorn regard.
From Sir Theodore Martin's translation of Aladdin. '
SONG
From Aladdin'
HE moon shines bright aloft
O'er wood and dingle,
The birds in cadence soft
Their warblings mingle;
The breezes from the hill
Come sighing, sighing,
And to their voice the rill
Sends sweet replying.
THE
But one flower in the wold
Droops wan and sickly;
Death at its heart is cold-
"Twill perish quickly.
But yonder, chaplets twine
Forever vernal,
And in God's presence shine
Through springs eternal.
O moonlight pale! thy rays
Soon, softly creeping,
Shall paint my paler face
In death-trance sleeping.
Smile then on Death, that he
May gently take me,
And where no sorrows be,
Ere morn awake me!
Droops on its stem the flower:
Come, sweetly stealing,
Angel of death, and shower
Soft dews of healing!
Oh, come! Beneath thy blight
My soul shall quail not!
Yonder is endless light,
And joys that fail not!
Translation of Sir Theodore Martin.
## p. 10755 (#635) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Hakon
FROM AXEL AND VALBORG›
Axel enters with King Hakon, who is wounded in the right arm.
A**
XEL - Here are we safe awhile, my lord and king!
Here in God's holy house. Come, sit you down,
And let me bind for you your wounded arm;
A warrior ought to know the art of healing;
One has not always help at hand. The wound
Is deep, but yet not dangerous. Now, had we
A piece of linen only!
Axel-
Hakon
[He feels in his bosom, draws out a cloth, and starts; but instantly com-
poses himself, and says: ]
-
―――
Axel-
Axel-
Nay, calm yourself.
Hakon And with this cloth you wish to bind my arm?
Axel So that you may not die from loss of blood.
Hakon You wish to bind it with this very cloth
Wherewith I rent your life in twain?
Hakon
――
Axel-
―――――
---
This your kindness
Wounds me more deep than Erling Skakke's sword.
Be thou not wounded by my faithfulness,—
Far other was its purpose.
-
Here is linen.
Axel, why startest thou? Almighty God!
I know that cloth too well.
It is another cloth.
My lord!
Nay, nay! It is
The very cloth which that malicious Knud
Cut with my sword 'twixt you and Valborg, Axel!
I know it. Oh, swathe not my arm with this:
It burns me
――
- tortures me with double pain.
Nay, it is natural a wound should burn,
And bandaging a sore is always painful.
Be calm, and rest yourself a moment, King!
10755
Then in your left hand take your sword, and come
Once more with Axel 'gainst your haughty foe:
The presence of their king supports his people,
And I will serve instead of your right hand.
Hakon Is it contempt,-a lurking, proud revenge?
Or is it natural high-mindedness?
How shall I understand you, Axel? Think you
To heap up coals of fire on Hakon's head?
## p. 10756 (#636) ##########################################
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ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
By God and man! I will be true to you;
I will not harm you; I will ne'er forsake you.
Hakon - This generosity but hurts me more.
O most unhappy Hakon Herdebred!
Thy bravest warrior despises thee.
Axel By God in heaven, and by my Valborg, Hakon!
I do respect you.
Axel
Hakon
I believe you, kinsman:
That was a solemn oath,- well is it so;
For Hakon acted like an ardent lover
Upon the throne - not like a coward, Axel!
Axel Who feels the power of love, and does not know
Its mighty workings?
Hakon
Now your words are drawn
Out of my very heart, my gallant hero;
Your faithfulness and kindness move me so.
[With sudden wildness]-
And yet, did I perceive that you believed
This were but woman's weakness, only caused
By this my pain of body, Axel Thordson,
With my left hand I would draw forth my sword,
And challenge you to fight for life and death.
Axel I swore by Valborg that I do respect you.
Hakon-You swear it. Then you shall esteem me too;
-
For I will make to you a sacrifice.
The sacrifice is great;-'tis needful, Axel,
That you should know its costliness!
My King!
Axel-
Hakon-I well know what I hazard by the offer
Of such a gift at such a time as this:
"Now has the proud and foolish youth at last
Opened his eyes; and now he can perceive
How his throne stands in need of brave defense.
Now does he need his warriors' faithfulness;
And therefore does he purchase friend with maid,
In the despair and anguish of his heart. "
Ha, I would hate you, Axel! I would call you
A cold and cruel and barbarian foe,
If you could dream of such a motive.
-
Axel-
Sire!
Hakon-For Valborg loses Hakon Norway's realm,
But Valborg-loses he for Valborg's sake.
Think of the value of my gift! Gives one
The greater for the less, to satisfy
One's selfishness?
## p. 10757 (#637) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10757
Axel-
O Hakon! noble kinsman!
Hakon - Yes, I have blindly erred, and your pure soul,
Your noble mind, have opened now mine eyes;
And of free-will, because I wish the good,
Do I subdue the passion of my breast,
And give you back your Valborg-give you back
That which to me is dearest in the world.
Misjudge me not,-oh, see my sacrifice!
I see it,—and God sees it, noble King!
Axel
Hakon And now embrace me!
Axel-
Hold your wounded arm!
Hakon - The wound no longer burns: this linen cloth
Hurts me no more; it cools me, like the juice
Of healing herbs fresh gathered.
Axel-
Hakon
Axel-
――――
――
Axel-
Hakon
Axel
And now let Erling overcome me.
Has overcome himself: his victory
Is greatest.
[The noise increases; Axel throws the King's purple mantle, which has
been unloosed during the bandaging, over his own shoulders. ]
Hakon-What do you, Axel?
O my King!
Hakon
But it shall not be the last:
The other victory must now be gained.
[Noise is heard outside the church. ]
Be calm, my King! Rest yet a moment longer!
Your golden helm is heavy, and your head
Needs some relief; give me your helmet. Here-
Take mine instead; it is a lighter one.
The Captain-
Nay, be still, my lord!
I hear men coming-possibly our foes:
Let Axel be a shield to you!
[A troop of the enemy rushes in. ]
There stands he!
There stands he! See you? with the golden helmet
And purple robe. It is the King. Rush in —
Rush in on him, and cut him down!
O Axel!
Now do I understand your strange behavior.
Give me my helmet back!
Nay, draw your sword;
Place yourself so that your right arm may be
## p. 10758 (#638) ##########################################
10758
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Protected by my body. When you see
An opening, strike- and then draw back again.
[He cries]
Come on, ye paltry wretches! Here stands Hakon.
His sword is drawn, you see; he does not fear
Your coward onslaught in the house of God.
Come on, ye murderers! who do not dare
To stand up man 'gainst man in honest fight,
But think to win base gold by Hakon's murder.
My fiery lion's-tongue is gleaming bright;
Axel-
-
Come, let it slake its thirst in traitors' blood!
Hakon [drawing his sword]-
He would befool you! Here stands Norway's chief,
And with his left hand will he punish you.
Peace, Axel Thordson! you are wounded. Hakon
Can well defend himself.
-
The Enemy -
Down with him! down!
[A fight. Noise is heard outside, of other warriors; there is a cry-]
To help! to help! the King has been attacked.
The Hostile Warrior [to Axel]-
Aha! help comes too late!
[He wounds him.
Haste! flee away.
Hakon is slain! Come on, and cut your way
To Erling through the Biarkebeiners' ranks.
Hakon is slain; — away!
Sigurd of Reine and Wilhelm rush in with a number of Biarkebeiners
Sigurd-
Ha, cut and thrust!
Pursue the murderers!
Sigurd to the King]-
-
[The enemy is put to flight. ]
Your life is saved!
[He becomes aware of Axel. ]
What! Axel in the royal robe and helmet?
All bleeding, too?
Axel [to the King]-
Now take your helm again!
It is too heavy now for me. Go, Sire!
And leave me with my comrade here alone.
Hakon- My brother! is your wound-
Axel-
Nay, leave me, King!
Charge boldly on the foe; revenge this treachery;
Follow with Sigurd and his bark-clad warriors!
## p. 10759 (#639) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10759
Sigurd Yes, Hakon! even Norway's forests
Hakon [to his warriors-pointing at Axel]-
Have armed themselves to fight for Throndhjem's lord.
Look at these warriors! Gotha-dwellers! Bears!
Stems of the forest pines, all gathered here
From many a mountain ridge. For want of armor,
This rugged bark protects their gallant hearts.
These stems of alder, with their sharpened points
Hardened by fire, supply the place of spears.
In such wise fight they for their humble hearths,
And the king's honor. Head thou them, my lord,
And by a storm avenge we Axel's slaying.
You die a noble death, my Northern brother!
Fallen for your King. We, too, shall follow you
Ere long, perhaps, and greet you before God.
Come, Hakon! Leave him with his friend alone!
Come on! Life calls for strife, but Death for peace.
Axel-
――――
Ye Norsemen! for the King he gave his life.
The Biarkebeiners [impatiently striking their wooden spears against the
ground]-
We, we will also give our lives for thee!
Lead us to death! Lead us against the foe!
Hakon [embracing Axel]-
Wilhelm [approaching Axel]-
Farewell! ere sunset we shall meet again.
[He follows the warriors.
My brother! is your wound a mortal one?
Yes, Wilhelm. Loose my shoulder scarf, I pray you!
Draw out the scabbard, and give me the scarf,
That I may stanch the blood a little while,
And respite life. Thanks! Lead me over now
To yonder pillar that bears Valborg's name;
Here shall I rest more easily. So! Let me lean
Against the wall, so that I may not fall
In dying.
Wilhelm-
Brother, do you suffer pain?
Axel- No! Light and calm and peaceful is my heart.
Wilhelm- Axel, would you not wish to see your Valborg
Once more before you die?
Axel-
Ah, Wilhelm, yes!
Wilhelm - Then will I hasten up and fetch her straightway.
Axel
Stay yet a moment! It might happen, Wilhelm,
That Axel were no more when Valborg comes.
Then tell the chosen of my heart I died
With Valborg's name upon my lips.
## p. 10760 (#640) ##########################################
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ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Wilhelm-
Axel-
Wilhelm
Axel-
Wilhelm-
Axel-
Wilhelm
Axel-
-
Tell her that Hakon is a noble hero;
That Axel's confidence was not misplaced
In trusting to his royal heart.
That will I.
I will.
Greet Helfred,-greet my darling sister, Wilhelm!
At Immersborg; and thank her lovingly
For all the thoughts and feelings, joys and sorrows,
She ever shared from childhood with her brother.
Ah, Helfred understood me, knew me well!
Tell her that I have not forgot my sister
In e'en mine hour of death.
Good! I will greet her.
But Valborg first and last! my earnest wish
Is, that whene'er her days on earth are ended,
Axel may slumber by her side.
Your wish
Shall be fulfilled. Hast more to tell me?
Wilhelm-Well then,- I go!
Axel [grasping his hand-
Axel [alone]-
Nay.
My noble, faithful comrade!
Thanks for your friendship and your true devotion.
In deeds you showed it, though in words but seldom.
Take from this feeble hand my life's farewell!
Wilhelm-Farewell, farewell!
Axel-
Wilhelm, was I your friend?
Wilhelm - My only friend! Now have I none remaining.
I die for land and lord, as did my sires.
What honorable Norseman more desires?
O God! with joy my soul doth fly to Thee;
For thou wilt give the chosen of my heart
To be my bride in thine eternity,
Where Axel from his Valborg ne'er shall part.
[The sun shines through the choir window. ]
All hail to thee, thou new-born morning light!
Thou comest to enlighten my dim sight,
And tinge my pallid cheek with thy warm ray.
Soon, soon a morning glow upon me shines,
That never waxes into glaring day;
An evening glow that ne'er to night declines.
[He goes.
## p. 10761 (#641) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10761
My youthful hopes! ye were no shadows vain;-
'Twas mine to love, and to be loved again;
A friend was mine; a noble king God gave,
Whom I have fitted for his station high,
Whom by my death it is my lot to save.
Well, Axel! thou hast lived, so thou canst die.
And see, my Valborg! yonder angels twine
A wreath of blue forget-me-nots like thine.
Then thou shalt never from thine Axel part,
When thou shalt meet him in those realms above,
More worthy of thy beauty and thine heart,
Where 'tis no sin to nourish sacred love.
Farewell, my Valborg!
Wilhelm [coming with Valborg]·
Wilhelm-
Valborg-
-
[He dies.
He is still alive!
He is alive! Heard you? - he spoke of Valborg!
Valborg-I took his life's farewell.
[She gazes on him.
He is no more.
Mine Axel! dost thou live? If thou dost live,
Lift upon me thine eye for the last time,
Thou noble soul! and let thy blessing shine
On Valborg in thy fixed and dying gaze.
He is no more. Ah, he is dead! He died
With Valborg's name upon his lips.
Hast fought thy fight, brave youth!
His king?
Ay, as a hero.
Glorious death!
Far better this than fly to foreign lands,
To spend thy days in barren banishment,
And waste away with grief of heart, my Axel!
Thou sufferest now no longer, heart-loved youth!
Now hast thou won thyself eternal honor.
Thy Fatherland, thy noble mother Norway,
Is proud of Axel- of her gallant son.
For many an age shall thy beloved name
Be heard fresh-sounding on her grateful lips;
At Thing-motes men shall often high extol
Thy hero-deed; while in the ladies' bower,
At eventide old ballads shall be sung,
Recounting Axel's love and faithfulness.
[To Wilhelm] -
How fair he is in death!
Well, thou
Fell he not for
## p. 10762 (#642) ##########################################
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ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
[To the dead Axel]— Thy golden locks.
Are wildly scattered round thy pallid brow.
[She arranges his hair with her hand. ]
So should it be! This brow must not be covered:
'Tis arched so high and noble, like the heavens.
See how he smiles in death!
Farewell, my Axel!
[She kisses him. ]
Thy Valborg follows soon.
[She rises up, and lays her hand upon her breast, whilst she draws her
breath deeply and heavily. ]
Wilhelm
Ay, soon! ay, soon!
Wilhelm-My noble Valborg, you are pale.
Valborg-
My Axel
Is paler still. Peace, my kind Wilhelm! peace!
Disturb not Valborg in her loneliness.
[With enthusiasm] —
How pleasant seems it here within the church!
How brightly beams the sunshine through the windows,
As at this very hour, my Axel! yesterday,
When first thou pressedst Valborg to thy heart.
How homelike 'tis, how cheerful, in the church!
Here shall we live right happily together,
Peacefully dwelling opposite each other,-
Thou with thy father, Valborg with her mother.
And when the clock strikes twelve, and in yon birch
Outside our window sings each night the thrush,
The wall and marble stones will open wide,
And we shall meet at Harold Gille's grave,
And thence go hand in hand up to the altar,
And sit us down within the moonlit choir
And let the moon with pale and silv'ry light
Beam on our pallid cheeks, and listen to
The thrush's spring song, whilst we call to mind
The memories of our faithful love in life;
Then, when the moonlight passes from the choir,
Go back with slow and melancholy steps,
And walk three times round Harold Gille's tomb;
There shall we pause and take our loving leave
Until the next night comes. Deep in our graves
Then shall we slumber sweetly, whilst the living
Are rioting without.
And Axel's wish
Was to be buried in one grave with Valborg.
## p. 10763 (#643) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10763
Valborg - In one same grave? Ah, that were glorious, but
It may not be, my noble knight! Alas!
Axel and Valborg never were betrothed.
It may not be; yet how much would I give,
That the same coffin might contain both Valborg's
And Axel's bones!
Wilhelm
―
[She gazes down before her. ]
But, noble Wilhelm, tell me
What glistens in the dust, in yonder crevice
Of Harold's tombstone?
See I right, it is
A ring.
Wilhelm-
Valborg
Valborg-
A ring?
Wilhelm [takes it up]— Yes, it is Axel's ring.
Valborg - Axel's? Did it not roll into the grave?
O our forefather! now I understand thee; —
I understood thee then. Give me my ring!
-
[She places it upon her finger. ]
Now am I truly thy betrothed, my Axel!
Now am I Axel's bride! Now may we be
Buried together in one grave.
Poor girl!
"Poor girl? Nay, Wilhelm! happy, happy girl.
Is it not true, my noble friend, I call you
My friend, for you were Axel Thordson's friend,-
Is it not true, my friend, you know the ballad
Of Knight Sir Aage and of Lady Else?
Wilhelm — The Danish bishop taught it to my mother;
And she, in early childhood, taught it me.
Valborg - And you remember it?
Wilhelm-
Yes, perfectly.
Valborg — Oh, that is well! My Axel told me that
You have a noble voice; not delicate
And soft, like that which pleases men in life,
But deep, and strong, and solemn,- as a voice
From out the grave. Well, noble Wilhelm, will
You show me now the kindness, for the sake
Of him who was your friend, to sing this ballad
For Valborg, whilst in recompense she places
Her ring upon his cold and lifeless hand?
Wilhelm - Yes, I will do it, if it comforts you.
Valborg - My Axel too has told me that you are
A skilled musician on the harp.
-
## p. 10764 (#644) ##########################################
10764
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Wilhelm-
Its tones
Full oft have lulled my troubled soul to rest.
Valborg-Well, see in yonder corner, dearest Wilhelm,
Close by my mother's grave, there stands a harp.
How many a sleepless night has Valborg's voice
Risen to its tuneful notes among the tombs!
How many a time has she to it begun
Aage's and Else's ballad! Never yet
I sang it to the end; for hot tears choked
My feeble voice. To you, my noble knight,
To you a stronger nature God has given;
So take the tunèd harp, and sit you down
By yonder pillar, opposite my Axel,
And sing the mournful ballad to the end,
Whilst Valborg kneels beside her Axel's corpse;
And do not rise, I pray, till all is o'er,
And Else is to Aage joined in death.
Wilhelm-I sing thee comfort in the morning dawn.
[Valborg kneels down beside Axel's corpse; Wilhelm takes the harp, sits
down, and sings. ]
*"It was the fair knight Aagen:
To an isle he went his way,
And plighted troth to Else,
Who was so fair a may.
He plighted troth to Else
All with the ruddy gold;
But or ere that day's moon came again,
Low he lay in the black, black mold.
"It was the maiden Else:
She was fulfilled of woe
When she heard how the fair knight Aagen
In the black mold lay alow.
Uprose the fair knight Aagen,
Coffin on back took he,
And he's away to her bower
Sore hard as the work might be.
"With that same chest on door he smote,
For the lack of flesh and skin;
'O hearken, maiden Else,
And let thy true love in. '
*Mr. Butler's version of this famous ballad is a creditable one; but the
translation made by William Morris far surpasses it in beauty, and is here
substituted.
## p. 10765 (#645) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10765
[Wilhelm ceases.
der. ]
Then answered maiden Else,
'Never open I my door,
But and if thou namest Jesu's name
As thou hadst might before! '—
"Oh, whenso thou art joyous,
And the heart is glad in thee,
Then fares it with my coffin
That red roses are with me;
But whenso thou art sorrowful,
And weary is thy mood,
Then all within my coffin
Is it dreadful with dark blood.
«Now is the red cock a-crowing,-
To the earth adown must I;
Down to the earth wend all dead folk,
And I wend in company.
Look thou up to the heavens aloft
To the little stars and bright,
And thou shalt see how sweetly
It fareth with the night. '
"She looked up to the heavens aloft,
To the little stars bright above;
The dead man sank into his grave,-
Ne'er again she saw her love.
Home then went maiden Else,
Mid sorrow manifold,
And ere that night's moon came again
She lay alow in the mold. "
Valborg lies motionless with her head upon Axel's shoul
Wilhelm - The song is ended, noble Valborg! [He rises. ] Valborg,
Rise up again: my song is ended now.
Valborg! She does not move. Cold, pale! She breathes
No longer. Heaven! I had foreboded it!
epic-cycle of the Scandinavian Pantheon, is the consummation of
Oehlenschläger's efforts to utilize the Norse mythology for the pur-
poses of modern poetry. 'Den Lille Hyrdedreng' (The Little Shep-
herd Boy) was a dramatic idyl so beautiful as almost to silence for
a time the critics of the poet. Hrolf Krake,' another considerable
poem, deals with the epic material previously handled by Ewald.
Öen i Sydhavet (The Isle in the Southern Sea) is a prose romance
of great length, the only important work of the sort attempted by
Oehlenschläger. The principal tragedies of these twenty years are
'Stærkodder,' 'Hagbarth og Signe,' 'Erik og Abel,' 'Væringerne i
Miklagaard' (The Varangians in Micklegarth), Karl den Store' (Karl
the Great), and Langbarderne' (The Lombards).
In the summer of 1829, the poet, just completing his fiftieth year.
made a holiday trip to Sweden, and was received with great enthusi-
asm. He took part in the annual celebration of the University of
Lund, presided over by Tegnér, the greatest of Swedish poets. Here
he was crowned in the Cathedral of Lund as "the Adam of skalds,
the king of Northern singers. " Immediately after the ceremony he
returned to Copenhagen, and a few days later had the pleasure of
receiving Tegnér upon Danish soil, where the festivities of Lund were
echoed. When his fiftieth birthday fell, he received a striking dem-
onstration from the students of his own University. The remaining
twenty years of his life (for he rounded out the full Scriptural tale)
were no less active than the twenty just preceding. They were
marked by the same uninterrupted succession of new productions; few
of which, however, proved worthy of his genius, although the old fire
and deep poetic feeling flashed out now and then, to the surprise of
both critics and friends. Among the tragedies of this closing period
the following may be named: Tordenskjold,' 'Sokrates' (the poet's
only dramatic handling of a Greek theme), 'Olaf den Hellige' (Olaf the
Holy), 'Dina,' and 'Amleth. ' The latter of these tragedies is partic-
ularly interesting as an attempt to reconstruct the historical Hamlet
of Saxo's chronicle, in contrast with Shakespeare's purely imaginat-
ive creation. Other works of this period were 'Norgesrejsen' (The
## p. 10751 (#631) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10751
Journey to Norway), 'Digtekunsten' (The Art of Poetry), 'Örvarodds
Saga,' and 'Landet Fundet og Forsvundet' (The Found and Van-
ished Land), the latter a dramatic handling of the Norse discovery
of Vinland. His last production was a hero-poem upon the subject
of 'Regnar Lodbrok'; and ends with the pathetic words, "The old
skald sang for the last time of the old Norse heroes. " The poet's
'Erindringer' (Recollections), upon which he had been engaged for
several years, remained to be published after his death. The series
of works thus completed fills, in the standard edition, no less than
forty volumes, of which four contain the 'Erindringer,' ten the trage-
dies, and twenty-six the miscellaneous productions in verse and prose.
They stand as a lasting monument to the genius of the greatest poet
of Denmark; as the living memorial of their author's singularly rich,
fruitful, and fortunate career.
Outwardly, the score of years that crowned Oehlenschläger's life
were comparatively uneventful. A trip to Norway in 1833, and a
second visit to Sweden in 1847, were the most noteworthy episodes.
Meanwhile, in face of the broadening fame of the poet, and his
strengthened hold upon the minds and hearts of his fellow-country-
men, the wave of adverse criticism that had at one time risen so
high was steadily subsiding; and even his most determined opponents
came to recognize the indebtedness of the nation to the man who,
whatever his lapses from a high standard of production, had never-
theless created a new literature for Denmark, and awakened the
creative spirit that was now displaying itself on every hand.
It was
during these last years of Oehlenschläger's life that most of the men
arose who have shaped nineteenth-century Danish literature. These
were the years of the early successes of the novelists Ingemann,
Blicher, Goldschmidt, and St. Aubain; of the poets Hertz, Paludan-`
Müller, Winther, and Ploug; of the philosopher Kierkegaard, and the
story-teller Hans Christian Andersen. Widely divergent as were the
paths of these men, Oehlenschläger justly felt that they were all in
some sense his successors, and that he had given the impulse which
was resulting in so marked an expansion of the national literature.
And nearly all of these men joined to do him honor in the celebra-
tion of his seventieth birthday; an occasion which evoked tributes of
heartfelt admiration even from Heiberg and Grundtvig, his most
inveterate critics. A few weeks later, he lay upon his death-bed. At
his request, his son read to him a scene from his own 'Sokrates';
and he also expressed the wish that this tragedy should be presented
at the theatre as a memorial performance after his death. A few
hours later, towards midnight, January 20th, 1850, he passed quietly.
away, retaining full consciousness almost to the last moment. He
was buried in the Frederiksberg church-yard, where a massive block
## p. 10752 (#632) ##########################################
10752
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
of stone marks his grave. Hans Christian Andersen tells us that
when a short time after the entombment, fresh wreaths were brought
to replace the old ones upon the grave, it was found that a song-
bird had made its nest in the withered leaves.
Atta Payer
THE DEDICATION OF ALADDIN›
TO GOETHE
B
ORN in far northern clime,
Came to mine ears sweet tidings in my prime
From fairy-land;
Where flowers eternal blow,
Where power and beauty go,
Knit in a magic band.
Oft, when a child, I'd pore
In rapture on the ancient saga lore;
When on the wold
The snow was falling white,
I, shuddering with delight,
Felt not the cold.
When with his pinion chill
The winter smote the castle on the hill,
It fanned my hair;
I sat in my small room,
And through the lamp-lit gloom
Saw Spring smile fair.
And though my love in youth.
Was all for Northern energy and truth,
And Northern feats,
Yet for my fancy's feast
The flower-appareled East
Unveiled its sweets.
To manhood as I grew,
From North to South, from South to North, I flew;
I was possessed
By yearnings to give voice in song
To all that had been struggling long
Within my breast.
## p. 10753 (#633) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10753
I heard bards manifold,
But at their minstrelsy my heart grew cold;
Dim, colorless, became
My childhood's visions grand;
Their tameness only fanned
My wilder flame.
Who did the young bard save?
Who to his eye a keener vision gave,
That he the child
Amor beheld, astride
The lion, far off ride,
Careering wild?
Thou, great and good! Thy spell-like lays
Did the enchanted curtain raise
From fairy-land,
Where flowers eternal blow,
Where power and beauty go,
Knit in a loving band.
Well pleased thou heardest long
Within thy halls the stranger-minstrel's song;
XVIII-673
Taught to aspire
By thee, my spirit leapt
To bolder heights, and swept
The German lyre.
Oft have I sung before;
And many a hero of our Northern shore,
With grave stern mien,
By sad Melpomene
Called from his grave, we see
Stalk o'er the scene.
And greeting they will send
To friend Aladdin cheerly as a friend:
The oak's thick gloom
Prevails not wholly where
Warbles the nightingale, and fair
Flowers waft perfume.
On thee, to whom I owe
New life, what shall my gratitude bestow?
Naught has the bard
## p. 10754 (#634) ##########################################
10754
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Save his own song! And this
Thou dost not, trivial as the tribute is,
With scorn regard.
From Sir Theodore Martin's translation of Aladdin. '
SONG
From Aladdin'
HE moon shines bright aloft
O'er wood and dingle,
The birds in cadence soft
Their warblings mingle;
The breezes from the hill
Come sighing, sighing,
And to their voice the rill
Sends sweet replying.
THE
But one flower in the wold
Droops wan and sickly;
Death at its heart is cold-
"Twill perish quickly.
But yonder, chaplets twine
Forever vernal,
And in God's presence shine
Through springs eternal.
O moonlight pale! thy rays
Soon, softly creeping,
Shall paint my paler face
In death-trance sleeping.
Smile then on Death, that he
May gently take me,
And where no sorrows be,
Ere morn awake me!
Droops on its stem the flower:
Come, sweetly stealing,
Angel of death, and shower
Soft dews of healing!
Oh, come! Beneath thy blight
My soul shall quail not!
Yonder is endless light,
And joys that fail not!
Translation of Sir Theodore Martin.
## p. 10755 (#635) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Hakon
FROM AXEL AND VALBORG›
Axel enters with King Hakon, who is wounded in the right arm.
A**
XEL - Here are we safe awhile, my lord and king!
Here in God's holy house. Come, sit you down,
And let me bind for you your wounded arm;
A warrior ought to know the art of healing;
One has not always help at hand. The wound
Is deep, but yet not dangerous. Now, had we
A piece of linen only!
Axel-
Hakon
[He feels in his bosom, draws out a cloth, and starts; but instantly com-
poses himself, and says: ]
-
―――
Axel-
Axel-
Nay, calm yourself.
Hakon And with this cloth you wish to bind my arm?
Axel So that you may not die from loss of blood.
Hakon You wish to bind it with this very cloth
Wherewith I rent your life in twain?
Hakon
――
Axel-
―――――
---
This your kindness
Wounds me more deep than Erling Skakke's sword.
Be thou not wounded by my faithfulness,—
Far other was its purpose.
-
Here is linen.
Axel, why startest thou? Almighty God!
I know that cloth too well.
It is another cloth.
My lord!
Nay, nay! It is
The very cloth which that malicious Knud
Cut with my sword 'twixt you and Valborg, Axel!
I know it. Oh, swathe not my arm with this:
It burns me
――
- tortures me with double pain.
Nay, it is natural a wound should burn,
And bandaging a sore is always painful.
Be calm, and rest yourself a moment, King!
10755
Then in your left hand take your sword, and come
Once more with Axel 'gainst your haughty foe:
The presence of their king supports his people,
And I will serve instead of your right hand.
Hakon Is it contempt,-a lurking, proud revenge?
Or is it natural high-mindedness?
How shall I understand you, Axel? Think you
To heap up coals of fire on Hakon's head?
## p. 10756 (#636) ##########################################
10756
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
By God and man! I will be true to you;
I will not harm you; I will ne'er forsake you.
Hakon - This generosity but hurts me more.
O most unhappy Hakon Herdebred!
Thy bravest warrior despises thee.
Axel By God in heaven, and by my Valborg, Hakon!
I do respect you.
Axel
Hakon
I believe you, kinsman:
That was a solemn oath,- well is it so;
For Hakon acted like an ardent lover
Upon the throne - not like a coward, Axel!
Axel Who feels the power of love, and does not know
Its mighty workings?
Hakon
Now your words are drawn
Out of my very heart, my gallant hero;
Your faithfulness and kindness move me so.
[With sudden wildness]-
And yet, did I perceive that you believed
This were but woman's weakness, only caused
By this my pain of body, Axel Thordson,
With my left hand I would draw forth my sword,
And challenge you to fight for life and death.
Axel I swore by Valborg that I do respect you.
Hakon-You swear it. Then you shall esteem me too;
-
For I will make to you a sacrifice.
The sacrifice is great;-'tis needful, Axel,
That you should know its costliness!
My King!
Axel-
Hakon-I well know what I hazard by the offer
Of such a gift at such a time as this:
"Now has the proud and foolish youth at last
Opened his eyes; and now he can perceive
How his throne stands in need of brave defense.
Now does he need his warriors' faithfulness;
And therefore does he purchase friend with maid,
In the despair and anguish of his heart. "
Ha, I would hate you, Axel! I would call you
A cold and cruel and barbarian foe,
If you could dream of such a motive.
-
Axel-
Sire!
Hakon-For Valborg loses Hakon Norway's realm,
But Valborg-loses he for Valborg's sake.
Think of the value of my gift! Gives one
The greater for the less, to satisfy
One's selfishness?
## p. 10757 (#637) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10757
Axel-
O Hakon! noble kinsman!
Hakon - Yes, I have blindly erred, and your pure soul,
Your noble mind, have opened now mine eyes;
And of free-will, because I wish the good,
Do I subdue the passion of my breast,
And give you back your Valborg-give you back
That which to me is dearest in the world.
Misjudge me not,-oh, see my sacrifice!
I see it,—and God sees it, noble King!
Axel
Hakon And now embrace me!
Axel-
Hold your wounded arm!
Hakon - The wound no longer burns: this linen cloth
Hurts me no more; it cools me, like the juice
Of healing herbs fresh gathered.
Axel-
Hakon
Axel-
――――
――
Axel-
Hakon
Axel
And now let Erling overcome me.
Has overcome himself: his victory
Is greatest.
[The noise increases; Axel throws the King's purple mantle, which has
been unloosed during the bandaging, over his own shoulders. ]
Hakon-What do you, Axel?
O my King!
Hakon
But it shall not be the last:
The other victory must now be gained.
[Noise is heard outside the church. ]
Be calm, my King! Rest yet a moment longer!
Your golden helm is heavy, and your head
Needs some relief; give me your helmet. Here-
Take mine instead; it is a lighter one.
The Captain-
Nay, be still, my lord!
I hear men coming-possibly our foes:
Let Axel be a shield to you!
[A troop of the enemy rushes in. ]
There stands he!
There stands he! See you? with the golden helmet
And purple robe. It is the King. Rush in —
Rush in on him, and cut him down!
O Axel!
Now do I understand your strange behavior.
Give me my helmet back!
Nay, draw your sword;
Place yourself so that your right arm may be
## p. 10758 (#638) ##########################################
10758
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Protected by my body. When you see
An opening, strike- and then draw back again.
[He cries]
Come on, ye paltry wretches! Here stands Hakon.
His sword is drawn, you see; he does not fear
Your coward onslaught in the house of God.
Come on, ye murderers! who do not dare
To stand up man 'gainst man in honest fight,
But think to win base gold by Hakon's murder.
My fiery lion's-tongue is gleaming bright;
Axel-
-
Come, let it slake its thirst in traitors' blood!
Hakon [drawing his sword]-
He would befool you! Here stands Norway's chief,
And with his left hand will he punish you.
Peace, Axel Thordson! you are wounded. Hakon
Can well defend himself.
-
The Enemy -
Down with him! down!
[A fight. Noise is heard outside, of other warriors; there is a cry-]
To help! to help! the King has been attacked.
The Hostile Warrior [to Axel]-
Aha! help comes too late!
[He wounds him.
Haste! flee away.
Hakon is slain! Come on, and cut your way
To Erling through the Biarkebeiners' ranks.
Hakon is slain; — away!
Sigurd of Reine and Wilhelm rush in with a number of Biarkebeiners
Sigurd-
Ha, cut and thrust!
Pursue the murderers!
Sigurd to the King]-
-
[The enemy is put to flight. ]
Your life is saved!
[He becomes aware of Axel. ]
What! Axel in the royal robe and helmet?
All bleeding, too?
Axel [to the King]-
Now take your helm again!
It is too heavy now for me. Go, Sire!
And leave me with my comrade here alone.
Hakon- My brother! is your wound-
Axel-
Nay, leave me, King!
Charge boldly on the foe; revenge this treachery;
Follow with Sigurd and his bark-clad warriors!
## p. 10759 (#639) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10759
Sigurd Yes, Hakon! even Norway's forests
Hakon [to his warriors-pointing at Axel]-
Have armed themselves to fight for Throndhjem's lord.
Look at these warriors! Gotha-dwellers! Bears!
Stems of the forest pines, all gathered here
From many a mountain ridge. For want of armor,
This rugged bark protects their gallant hearts.
These stems of alder, with their sharpened points
Hardened by fire, supply the place of spears.
In such wise fight they for their humble hearths,
And the king's honor. Head thou them, my lord,
And by a storm avenge we Axel's slaying.
You die a noble death, my Northern brother!
Fallen for your King. We, too, shall follow you
Ere long, perhaps, and greet you before God.
Come, Hakon! Leave him with his friend alone!
Come on! Life calls for strife, but Death for peace.
Axel-
――――
Ye Norsemen! for the King he gave his life.
The Biarkebeiners [impatiently striking their wooden spears against the
ground]-
We, we will also give our lives for thee!
Lead us to death! Lead us against the foe!
Hakon [embracing Axel]-
Wilhelm [approaching Axel]-
Farewell! ere sunset we shall meet again.
[He follows the warriors.
My brother! is your wound a mortal one?
Yes, Wilhelm. Loose my shoulder scarf, I pray you!
Draw out the scabbard, and give me the scarf,
That I may stanch the blood a little while,
And respite life. Thanks! Lead me over now
To yonder pillar that bears Valborg's name;
Here shall I rest more easily. So! Let me lean
Against the wall, so that I may not fall
In dying.
Wilhelm-
Brother, do you suffer pain?
Axel- No! Light and calm and peaceful is my heart.
Wilhelm- Axel, would you not wish to see your Valborg
Once more before you die?
Axel-
Ah, Wilhelm, yes!
Wilhelm - Then will I hasten up and fetch her straightway.
Axel
Stay yet a moment! It might happen, Wilhelm,
That Axel were no more when Valborg comes.
Then tell the chosen of my heart I died
With Valborg's name upon my lips.
## p. 10760 (#640) ##########################################
10760
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Wilhelm-
Axel-
Wilhelm
Axel-
Wilhelm-
Axel-
Wilhelm
Axel-
-
Tell her that Hakon is a noble hero;
That Axel's confidence was not misplaced
In trusting to his royal heart.
That will I.
I will.
Greet Helfred,-greet my darling sister, Wilhelm!
At Immersborg; and thank her lovingly
For all the thoughts and feelings, joys and sorrows,
She ever shared from childhood with her brother.
Ah, Helfred understood me, knew me well!
Tell her that I have not forgot my sister
In e'en mine hour of death.
Good! I will greet her.
But Valborg first and last! my earnest wish
Is, that whene'er her days on earth are ended,
Axel may slumber by her side.
Your wish
Shall be fulfilled. Hast more to tell me?
Wilhelm-Well then,- I go!
Axel [grasping his hand-
Axel [alone]-
Nay.
My noble, faithful comrade!
Thanks for your friendship and your true devotion.
In deeds you showed it, though in words but seldom.
Take from this feeble hand my life's farewell!
Wilhelm-Farewell, farewell!
Axel-
Wilhelm, was I your friend?
Wilhelm - My only friend! Now have I none remaining.
I die for land and lord, as did my sires.
What honorable Norseman more desires?
O God! with joy my soul doth fly to Thee;
For thou wilt give the chosen of my heart
To be my bride in thine eternity,
Where Axel from his Valborg ne'er shall part.
[The sun shines through the choir window. ]
All hail to thee, thou new-born morning light!
Thou comest to enlighten my dim sight,
And tinge my pallid cheek with thy warm ray.
Soon, soon a morning glow upon me shines,
That never waxes into glaring day;
An evening glow that ne'er to night declines.
[He goes.
## p. 10761 (#641) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10761
My youthful hopes! ye were no shadows vain;-
'Twas mine to love, and to be loved again;
A friend was mine; a noble king God gave,
Whom I have fitted for his station high,
Whom by my death it is my lot to save.
Well, Axel! thou hast lived, so thou canst die.
And see, my Valborg! yonder angels twine
A wreath of blue forget-me-nots like thine.
Then thou shalt never from thine Axel part,
When thou shalt meet him in those realms above,
More worthy of thy beauty and thine heart,
Where 'tis no sin to nourish sacred love.
Farewell, my Valborg!
Wilhelm [coming with Valborg]·
Wilhelm-
Valborg-
-
[He dies.
He is still alive!
He is alive! Heard you? - he spoke of Valborg!
Valborg-I took his life's farewell.
[She gazes on him.
He is no more.
Mine Axel! dost thou live? If thou dost live,
Lift upon me thine eye for the last time,
Thou noble soul! and let thy blessing shine
On Valborg in thy fixed and dying gaze.
He is no more. Ah, he is dead! He died
With Valborg's name upon his lips.
Hast fought thy fight, brave youth!
His king?
Ay, as a hero.
Glorious death!
Far better this than fly to foreign lands,
To spend thy days in barren banishment,
And waste away with grief of heart, my Axel!
Thou sufferest now no longer, heart-loved youth!
Now hast thou won thyself eternal honor.
Thy Fatherland, thy noble mother Norway,
Is proud of Axel- of her gallant son.
For many an age shall thy beloved name
Be heard fresh-sounding on her grateful lips;
At Thing-motes men shall often high extol
Thy hero-deed; while in the ladies' bower,
At eventide old ballads shall be sung,
Recounting Axel's love and faithfulness.
[To Wilhelm] -
How fair he is in death!
Well, thou
Fell he not for
## p. 10762 (#642) ##########################################
10762
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
[To the dead Axel]— Thy golden locks.
Are wildly scattered round thy pallid brow.
[She arranges his hair with her hand. ]
So should it be! This brow must not be covered:
'Tis arched so high and noble, like the heavens.
See how he smiles in death!
Farewell, my Axel!
[She kisses him. ]
Thy Valborg follows soon.
[She rises up, and lays her hand upon her breast, whilst she draws her
breath deeply and heavily. ]
Wilhelm
Ay, soon! ay, soon!
Wilhelm-My noble Valborg, you are pale.
Valborg-
My Axel
Is paler still. Peace, my kind Wilhelm! peace!
Disturb not Valborg in her loneliness.
[With enthusiasm] —
How pleasant seems it here within the church!
How brightly beams the sunshine through the windows,
As at this very hour, my Axel! yesterday,
When first thou pressedst Valborg to thy heart.
How homelike 'tis, how cheerful, in the church!
Here shall we live right happily together,
Peacefully dwelling opposite each other,-
Thou with thy father, Valborg with her mother.
And when the clock strikes twelve, and in yon birch
Outside our window sings each night the thrush,
The wall and marble stones will open wide,
And we shall meet at Harold Gille's grave,
And thence go hand in hand up to the altar,
And sit us down within the moonlit choir
And let the moon with pale and silv'ry light
Beam on our pallid cheeks, and listen to
The thrush's spring song, whilst we call to mind
The memories of our faithful love in life;
Then, when the moonlight passes from the choir,
Go back with slow and melancholy steps,
And walk three times round Harold Gille's tomb;
There shall we pause and take our loving leave
Until the next night comes. Deep in our graves
Then shall we slumber sweetly, whilst the living
Are rioting without.
And Axel's wish
Was to be buried in one grave with Valborg.
## p. 10763 (#643) ##########################################
ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
10763
Valborg - In one same grave? Ah, that were glorious, but
It may not be, my noble knight! Alas!
Axel and Valborg never were betrothed.
It may not be; yet how much would I give,
That the same coffin might contain both Valborg's
And Axel's bones!
Wilhelm
―
[She gazes down before her. ]
But, noble Wilhelm, tell me
What glistens in the dust, in yonder crevice
Of Harold's tombstone?
See I right, it is
A ring.
Wilhelm-
Valborg
Valborg-
A ring?
Wilhelm [takes it up]— Yes, it is Axel's ring.
Valborg - Axel's? Did it not roll into the grave?
O our forefather! now I understand thee; —
I understood thee then. Give me my ring!
-
[She places it upon her finger. ]
Now am I truly thy betrothed, my Axel!
Now am I Axel's bride! Now may we be
Buried together in one grave.
Poor girl!
"Poor girl? Nay, Wilhelm! happy, happy girl.
Is it not true, my noble friend, I call you
My friend, for you were Axel Thordson's friend,-
Is it not true, my friend, you know the ballad
Of Knight Sir Aage and of Lady Else?
Wilhelm — The Danish bishop taught it to my mother;
And she, in early childhood, taught it me.
Valborg - And you remember it?
Wilhelm-
Yes, perfectly.
Valborg — Oh, that is well! My Axel told me that
You have a noble voice; not delicate
And soft, like that which pleases men in life,
But deep, and strong, and solemn,- as a voice
From out the grave. Well, noble Wilhelm, will
You show me now the kindness, for the sake
Of him who was your friend, to sing this ballad
For Valborg, whilst in recompense she places
Her ring upon his cold and lifeless hand?
Wilhelm - Yes, I will do it, if it comforts you.
Valborg - My Axel too has told me that you are
A skilled musician on the harp.
-
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ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLÄGER
Wilhelm-
Its tones
Full oft have lulled my troubled soul to rest.
Valborg-Well, see in yonder corner, dearest Wilhelm,
Close by my mother's grave, there stands a harp.
How many a sleepless night has Valborg's voice
Risen to its tuneful notes among the tombs!
How many a time has she to it begun
Aage's and Else's ballad! Never yet
I sang it to the end; for hot tears choked
My feeble voice. To you, my noble knight,
To you a stronger nature God has given;
So take the tunèd harp, and sit you down
By yonder pillar, opposite my Axel,
And sing the mournful ballad to the end,
Whilst Valborg kneels beside her Axel's corpse;
And do not rise, I pray, till all is o'er,
And Else is to Aage joined in death.
Wilhelm-I sing thee comfort in the morning dawn.
[Valborg kneels down beside Axel's corpse; Wilhelm takes the harp, sits
down, and sings. ]
*"It was the fair knight Aagen:
To an isle he went his way,
And plighted troth to Else,
Who was so fair a may.
He plighted troth to Else
All with the ruddy gold;
But or ere that day's moon came again,
Low he lay in the black, black mold.
"It was the maiden Else:
She was fulfilled of woe
When she heard how the fair knight Aagen
In the black mold lay alow.
Uprose the fair knight Aagen,
Coffin on back took he,
And he's away to her bower
Sore hard as the work might be.
"With that same chest on door he smote,
For the lack of flesh and skin;
'O hearken, maiden Else,
And let thy true love in. '
*Mr. Butler's version of this famous ballad is a creditable one; but the
translation made by William Morris far surpasses it in beauty, and is here
substituted.
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[Wilhelm ceases.
der. ]
Then answered maiden Else,
'Never open I my door,
But and if thou namest Jesu's name
As thou hadst might before! '—
"Oh, whenso thou art joyous,
And the heart is glad in thee,
Then fares it with my coffin
That red roses are with me;
But whenso thou art sorrowful,
And weary is thy mood,
Then all within my coffin
Is it dreadful with dark blood.
«Now is the red cock a-crowing,-
To the earth adown must I;
Down to the earth wend all dead folk,
And I wend in company.
Look thou up to the heavens aloft
To the little stars and bright,
And thou shalt see how sweetly
It fareth with the night. '
"She looked up to the heavens aloft,
To the little stars bright above;
The dead man sank into his grave,-
Ne'er again she saw her love.
Home then went maiden Else,
Mid sorrow manifold,
And ere that night's moon came again
She lay alow in the mold. "
Valborg lies motionless with her head upon Axel's shoul
Wilhelm - The song is ended, noble Valborg! [He rises. ] Valborg,
Rise up again: my song is ended now.
Valborg! She does not move. Cold, pale! She breathes
No longer. Heaven! I had foreboded it!
