The Project Gutenberg eBook, Poet Lore, Volume XXIV, Number IV, 1912, by Various

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Title: Poet Lore, Volume XXIV, Number IV, 1912

Author: Various

Release Date: March 9, 2005 [eBook #15298]

Language: English

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POET LORE, VOLUME XXIV, NUMBER IV, 1912***

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Poet Lore

VOLUME XXIV VACATION, 1912 NUMBER IV

SWORD AND CROZIER

Drama in Five Acts

BY INDRIDI EINARSSON

(Authorized translation from the Icelandic by Lee M. Hollander)

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

BOTOLF, bishop of Holar

KOLBEIN ARNORSSON 'THE YOUNG,' chieftain of the 'North Quarter of
Iceland,' thirty-four years old

HELGA, his wife

SALVOR, woman physician

THOROLF BJARNASON }
ASBJORN ILLUGASON } Henchmen of Kolbein Arnorsson
    HAF BJARNASON }

KOLBEIN KALDALJOS, kinsman of Kolbein Arnorsson and steward of the bishopric of Holar, seventy years old

BRAND KOLBEINSSON, his son, chieftain of Reynistad, thirty-three years old

JORUN, his wife

KALF, eight years old } their sons
THORGEIR, six years old }

BRODDI THORLEIFSSON, brother-in-law of Kolbein Arnorsson

SIGURD, deacon

HELGI SKAFTASON } henchmen of Brand
ALF OF GROF }

EINAR THE RICH, of Vik

HELGI, priest at Holar

ILLUGI, the blind beggar
BOY LEADING ILLUGI

JARNGRIM

Followers of Thorolf Bjarnason, of Brand, and of Kolbein Arnorsson.
People of Holar in Hjaltadel.

The scene is laid in the district of Skagafirth, in the North of Iceland. The action takes place during the winter previous to the battle of Hunafloi, 1244 A.D.

ACT I

SCENE I

(So-called 'Little Hall' in BRAND'S manor-house at Reynistad. Enter the DEACON SIGURD, THOROLF BJARNASON, ALF OF GROF, and EINAR THE RICH, of Vik.)

Deacon Sigurd.—Thorolf, Lady Jorun bade you wait here until her husband comes.

Thorolf.—Where is Brand Kolbeinsson? I bear a message for him from my Lord Kolbein the Young.

Sigurd.—Why comes he not himself?

Alf.—Kolbein is nigh unto d——

Thorolf.—Are you garrulous again, Alf?

Sigurd.—He lies sick with his wound, I ween.

Thorolf and Alf (remain silent).

Einar the Rich (aside).—That news I ought to bring secretly to Thord Kakali.

Thorolf.—Why will Lady Jorun not speak to her guests?

Sigurd.—She bade me say that she had seen you last, Thorolf Bjarnason, at such business that she cares not to see you any more.

Thorolf (laughs).—Last I saw her at the slaying of Kalf Guttormsson, her father, and of Guttorm, her brother.

Sigurd.—Much good reason has my lady if she cares to see you no more.

Einar.—You are the man who most egged on to the deed, that father and son should be slain.

Thorolf.—No, Urækja it was, the son of Snorri Sturlason. A most useful deed it was. Ever since Kolbein's men have obeyed his commands without gainsaying.

Einar.—More useful still, I suppose you think that you snatched from out of Kalf's hands the crucifix he held when kneeling to receive the mortal stroke.

Thorolf.—His blood would have spurted on the cross, had it been held so near. (Wrathfully.) And likewise would I do to you, Einar the Rich, if Kolbein struck off your head. Your wife is a kinswoman of Thord Kakali, and dreamt have I that you will find an earlier grave than will I.

Einar.—An evil business it is to threaten me with death. No one knows who will be buried first. A faithful follower of Kolbein I have been.

Thorolf.—'Scarce shall I trust you,
             Troll, quoth Haustkoll.'

Sigurd.—Wicked speech this is and witless.

(Enter BRAND KOLBEINSSON, BRODDI THORLEIFSSON, HELGI SKAFTASON, and others.)

Brand.—You here, Thorolf Bjarnason?

Thorolf.—Ay, sir; and with a message for you, for Broddi, and for other chieftains, from Kolbein the Young.

Brand.—Is it that Thord Kakali is expected from the West with war?

Thorolf.—Not to my knowledge. He is still busy drinking the arvel after Tumi his brother, whom we put to death this last week!

Alf.—Yes, and he and his men are now drinking the ale by the bowlful, they say.

Brand.—What of it, if Thord does give his men in plenty?

Thorolf.—And why should we not speak of it, we who know what folly it is for men to drink heavily before going to war?

Einar.—A generous chieftain is Thord Kakali, and likely to accomplish great deeds. No chieftain in this land has ever lost so many men as has he. It is not seeming to make sport of his sorrow.

Thorolf.—None have I ever seen flee so fast as these men of Thord's, they urge each other on to flight.

Brand.—Idle speech is this, Thorolf!

Thorolf.—I say what I will, and care not whether others like it or no.

Broddi.—Where is the message my brother-in-law sends us?

Thorolf (handing the letter to BRAND).—I have lived all my life in warfare and am not able to read.

Brand (handing the letter to DEACON SIGURD).—Read for us, deacon!

Einar the Rich (while SIGURD is undoing the strings with which the parchment is tied, aside to ALF OF GROF).—I know you are no friend of Thorolf; stay behind here and help me to persuade Brand Kolbeinsson.

Alf (aside to EINAR THE RICH).—Broddi and all of Thorolf's neighbors hate him because he elbows himself forward ruthlessly. Against my will I left my home with Thorolf; but how shall I help you?

Einar (aside to ALF).—Help me dye Thorolf's white coat of mail as red as blood.

Alf (aside).—Hush! We would have to fight against great odds.

Einar (aside).—Not if Brand Kolbeinsson were on our side.

Alf (aside).—Brand—indeed! No, if Broddi Thorleifsson were with us.

Sigurd (has now untied the