University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

A distant view of the Norwegian Camp.
Ostan, Berino.
Berino.
One sacrifice my honest sword has paid
To honour and to Denmark, one remains
To friendship and to Ostan: That discharg'd,
My heart shall lay it's load of duty down,
And I shall be at rest; ev'n tho' the hand
Of Valdemar prevail, in glorious rest,
While honour, valour, friendship o'er my grave
Shall strew the monumental wreath—

Ostan.
That hour
When the light beams upon my conscious eye,
And it beholds thy pale corse on the ground,
May tenfold darkness seal it! may I wander
Wretched and blind, the sport of wantonness,
And coward-fear hang on my abject heart,
Dreading e'en Death!

Berino.
Have I not known thee brave?
And all the generous ardor of thy friendship
Have I not oft experienc'd?—Leave to me
This equal combat; where 'tis arm to arm,
And only life to life—A helpless woman
Demands your aid, and would you stay to guard
An armed warrior? Let the Queen of Norway
Be Ostan's care. Berino shall attend!
The King.

Ostan.
For Lena's safety I depend
On her unknown retreat.

Berino.
For mine depend
On my known sword.

Ostan.
But did not Valdemar
Suspend his answer to your second challenge?

Berino.
Yes, 'till the sword of Sweno should be tried
In Norway's cause, as mine was drawn for Denmark:
Since that event has ended in my favour,
I wait each moment his acceptance.

Ostan.
Love
Can justify the faults of Love, and friendship,
Perhaps, may do the same—I owe thee much:
Yet thou, methinks, hast cancell'd in this challenge
A part of my vast debt, since thou hast robb'd me
Of the high honour, and the great revenge
Of meeting Valdemar in arms.

Berino.
Believe,
There is no debt uncancell'd, and forgive
The robbery, if such it must be deem'd,
Tho' 'twere but for the motive—On thy care
Depends the safety of a Queen—For me,
I live but for my friend, and in his service,
A life of labour, or a death of wounds
Alike were welcome—

Ostan.
O beyond the world,
Belov'd, admir'd, exalted! my Berino,
Greater in thy misfortunes, to be envied
More for thy virtues than the pomp of Kings,
Still let me thank, and still embrace thee—yield
But yield me this one wish, and let my hand
Engage the King of Norway.

Berino.
'Tis not mine
To yield, or to withhold it now—the law
Of arms and honour binds me to the form
Of my first challenge; nothing but the choice
Of Valdemar can change the terms.

SCENE II.

Ostan, Berino, a Norwegian Herald.
Ostan.
Thy ensigns
Speak thee an Herald from the King of Norway.
Hast thou no charge to me?

Herald.
My message is
To Ostan and Berino.

Ostan, Berino.
Thou hast sound them.

Herald.
Thus then the King of Norway and the Isles,
The high-born Valdemar, sprung from the race
Of Odin—First to Ostan, chief of Denmark:
As thou hast basely broke the laws of nations,
Each tie of Hospitality and Honour,
And injur'd his best interests—First to thee
Deadly defiance, with high scorn he sends
To try the mortal combat.

Ostan.
By the soul
Of mighty Thor, whose brave blood warms my veins,
Herald I bid the welcome.

Herald.
And thus, the King of Norway and the Isles,
The high-born Valdemar, sprung from the race
Of Odin, to Berino friend of Ostan—
Associate in his crimes, and of his cause
The forward champion, when his trembling helm
Shall yield to the flesh'd sword, thou next enjoy
The privilege of death.

Berino.
Vain menaces!
And impotent as vain—Words ill become
A warrior, Herald; but bear back this message
To thy proud Prince, and tell him from Berino,
That his stunn'd hosts shall hear the dogs of Denmark
Howl at his thin ghost ere to-morrow's sun.

SCENE III.

Ostan, Berino.
Ostan.
Once more, my friend, with pleasure I embrace thee,
Who never brought distress upon my heart,
But by unbounded kindness—There, indeed,
Long hast thou play'd the tyrant—long opprest me
With ill-deserved favours; but to Fortune
I owe this triumph o'er thy friendly zeal;
And let thy brightening looks, my gallant friend,
Allow me leave to thank her.

Berino.
Let her perish!
Insidious foe to every great design,
And every generous deed! she binds the brave
In the same manacle that grasps the limbs,
The vile limbs of the coward; many a mind,
Of noble mould, and Heaven-informed soul,
She dooms to watch a peasant's nod, and leads
The sneaking steps of slaves and fools to honour.
If yet she reigns on earth, may the right hand
Of Odin thrust her to the realms of night,
Eternally to perish!

Ostan.
Yet, my friend—
Yet let not discontent dwell on thy brow!
Let not chagrin hang on the few short hours
That may remain to friendship!

Berino.
Does thy heart
Inform thee that those hours shall be but short?
Wilt thou relinquish—

Ostan.
By the holy ties
Of everlasting truth, I charge thee, name not
What dwells upon thine eye! Beware, my friend:
Think'st thou that I can fear, or canst thou doubt
The sword of Ostan?

Berino.
Never thoughts like those
Betray'd thee to my heart—

SCENE IV.

Ostan, Berino, Avilda in disguise as a messenger from the King of Denmark.
Avilda.
The King of Denmark
Commands Berino to attend him.

Berino.
Were
His orders urgent?

Avilda.
To the present moment.

Berino.
The King shall be obey'd.

SCENE V.

Ostan, Berino.
Berino.
This ill-tim'd message
Is most perplexing—the short space that lies
Before th'approaching combat, should be sacred
Alone to friendship.

Ostan.
Yet, methinks, 'tis well.
This is no time to yield the fervent heart
To gentler sentiments, or dear remembrance
Of kindness past; when fortitude should fix
On the firm breast her adamantine seal.
But still one scene of tenderness remains—
One softer moment to the Queen of Norway,
Ere my sword reach the heart of Valdemar.

Berino.
'Till that event, then, we shall meet no more.
Let us embrace, my friend!

Ostan.
Adieu!

Berino.
Adieu!

SCENE VI.

Berino.
Be still my heart! nor let unmanly softness
Thy firmer tone relax!—To breathe short sighs,
To feel anxieties, and boding fears,
Is female friendship—Yet the cause is obvious.
I dread that Ostan's feebler arm will fail
Against the powerful sword of Valdemar—
And should it fail—ah death to friendship—why,
Why would not fate permit me to enjoy
The prior challenge? Why this sudden message
That calls me to the court of Denmark? Strange
That circumstance, and unexpected—Sure
I've heard that voice—I've seen that messenger—
In speech, in features strongly he resembled
The fair Avilda; whose kind offices
Have been so oft exerted in my favour.
Ah! could I but aspire to hope! vain hopes!
Romantic wishes hence! should I encourage
By idle visions that long-smother'd flame
Which nature kindled, reason still represt?
Peace! foolish heart! was I not yesterday,
A fugitive, an exile in disgrace—
Ha! yet again?

SCENE VII.

Berino, Avilda in the same disguise.
Avilda.
Why wilt thou thus delay? Chief, let me warn thee
That thy immediate presence is expected
At Denmark's court. And as thou mayst respect
The favour of thy prince, it well becomes thee
With haste obedient to attend his pleasure.

Berino.
I own it, gentle Herald, and I thank thee
For this repeated caution; want of duty
Occasion'd no delay; but hast thou learnt
The purpose of this message?

Avilda.
If I have,
Yet my commission only was to bear it.

Berino.
By all my best, and dearest hopes 'tis she!
Now love direct me! Prudence be my guard!
[aside.
The generous favour of the brave Canute,
And more, far more than merited indulgence
Have join'd the ties of gratitude to duty.
Much likewise do I owe the Prince of Denmark,
To Lother much; but to the fair Avilda
What am I not indebted? to her favour,
To her kind offices alone I owe,
And wish to owe her royal Father's pardon.

Avilda
(aside.)
Ah flattering to my heart! but is this language
With which Berino would address a Herald?
For Norway's realm and all her icy Isles
I would not be discover'd—Gallant Chief,
There is no time for parley—

SCENE VIII.

Berino.
Is she gone?
Gone, banish'd by my thoughtless indiscretion!
How idle! how absurd to name the Princess!
She blush'd, and fled in fear of a discovery.
Such is the fate of Love, blind, witless love,
For ever working it's own overthrow;
Yet shall my steps at distance trace her slight,
My straining eye toil for another glance,
And she shall prove my kind conducting star,
To her own fair abode, the court of Denmark.

SCENE IX.

A Plain before the Norwegian Camp.
Valdemar.
Where are those powers, those spirits of revenge,
That issue from the darkest depth of Hell,
And whip the groaning world? Ye fiends accurst,
Why are ye yet so slow? Revenge delay'd
Is tenfold torture; tho' the sweetest passion
That ever wak'd the heart, if the rais'd arm
Be once arrested in it's rapid motion,
How bitter does it grow!—Curse on this stripling
That trifles with my rage, while I debase
The Monarch to engage a petty Chief!
Yet in the general conflict might he scape
The thunder of my arm, and yield another
The life he owes to me; hence I descend
To this decision; tho' contempt, at last,
Has swallow'd up revenge, and when he shrinks
Beneath my searching sword, I shall behold him
With more disdain than pleasure.

SCENE X.

Valdemar, Ostan.
Ostan.
Tyrant! savage!
Where have thy minions borne her? are they fled
To the dark desarts of that ragged kingdom,
Which thou and bears divide? fled from my sword?
But they have left me thee!

Valdemar.
Now hold, my rage,
A moment—Fled? alas! good Chief! fled, say'st thou?
No—Lena could not leave thee! fond and faithful,
Could she forsake thee, Ostan? Surely, no!
Haply she wander'd forth to gather food,
Berries, or acorns of the wood; for Lena,
The faithful Lena could not leave thy side.

Ostan.
Blue lightnings blast thee, and thy coward bands,
That meanly stole her from me when alone,
And unprotected!

Valdemar.
Is it possible?
No! gallant Chief! Thou couldst not leave a woman
Without protection—Leave a Queen that lov'd thee,
A faithful Queen! for such uncourtly act
She might, indeed, forsake thee—She might stray,
For she had stray'd before—

Ostan.
Yes know, proud King!
To thy eternal torture, know she lov'd me!
Oh! she was kind! with easy fondness kind!
Soft as the evening-breeze that sinks to rest
Within the folding flower—tender as light,
When dawning o'er the dewy rose it pours
A mild and cautious ray—In my fond arms
O what sweet tumults swell'd her snowy breasts!

Valdemar.
Peace slave!

Ostan.
What nameless soft emotions beam'd
In her fair eye! What lovely languishment!

Valdemar.
Insolent slave!

Ostan.
O hours of extasy!
When thrown at ease upon my circling arm,
Her beauteous head, and many an upward glance
Fraught with sweet meaning, silently invited
The frequent kiss.

Valdemar.
May all the powers of Hell
Blast thy vile tongue!

Osmond.
O rapture-giving hours!
When mingling soul with soul, and breast to breast
Beating responsive pleasure! Hours of transport!
Urge the slow wing of time, and to my bosom
Restore my Lena.

Valdemar.
By the Gods of Norway
I will not wait the slow formalities
That custom has assign'd the combat—Insult
Like this demands immediate chastisement.

[draws.
Ostan.
'Tis as I wish'd.

(draws.)
Valdemar.
Sword of my father now
Be faithful—
[They fight: the sword of Valdemar is broke.
—Curses on thy shivering blade!

Ostan.
Replace thy sword.

Valdemar.
[Snatching a dagger from his bosom, plunges it into the breast of Ostan.]
This shall replace it.

Ostan.
[Making a thrust at Valdemar misses him, and falls.
Coward!
O villain-handed slave.

Valdemar.
[Smiling over him.
Stay; live good Chief,
Tell me where I shall find the Queen of Norway,
And she shall once again partake thy flight.

Ostan.
Is she not in thy power? By Heaven, that thought
Revives me—Yet, Berino!—Oh!—Revenge!

(Dies.
Valdemar.
No! that is mine—I live, I live to feel it.
The vaunting heroe, the rapacious lover—
Pale, pale he lies—O for ten thousand daggers
Sped with like vengeance to each Danish heart,
'Till all her yellow-tressed sons shall shrink
At the Norwegian crest, and all her daughters
Weep o'er the graves of lovers!