University of Virginia Library

Scene II:

—The Watling Street. Enter Ole Larum, Jan Rykke and Ulf Stromer, walking quickly. They halt near an electric standard.
Larum.
Is that the Duke leaving the Volsung House?

Rykke.
I think it is. He looks about; he comes
This way.

Stromer.
That's not the Duke; he never walked
With such a reckless gait.

Rykke.
I'm sure it is.
I saw his face and figure clear as day
By the great arc-light opposite.

Larum.
He waves
His hand to us.

Stromer.
Ought we to meet him?

Larum.
Him,
Or any man.—With what a haste he comes!

Oswald
[before he enters].
I stand for God. Are you for God or Mammon?—
[As he enters].
Well met, Lord Mayor! Hear me denounce myself
Before my resolution fails.—Look up:—
You see that light? You know it?

Larum.
The abbey burns.

Oswald.
'Twas I that lit it; and for that alone
My life is forfeit.

Larum.
That's as it may be.—
Will you combine with us to save the abbey?

Oswald.
The abbey's doomed, guarded from all approach.

Larum.
But you command the army: dismiss the guard.

Oswald.
King Mammon, doubting me, discerned my mind
As I would read a clerkly letter, plain
With ebon ink and careful penmanship.
Wolfhart commands the troops that hold the square,
And takes instructions from the King alone.
But I believe we can destroy to-night
The power of Mammon at a single blow.—
You heard of Anselm's death?

Larum.
A rumour runs
That Mammon shook his life out.

Oswald.
So he did.—
What do they tell of Gottlieb?

Larum.
Nothing yet.
Is he dead also?

Oswald.
Worse a deal than dead.
Gottlieb was racked by Mammon. I saw it done.

Larum.
What do you mean by racked?

Oswald.
Stripped, tied and stretched
With levers.

Larum.
In the antique frame that's shown
In the torture-chamber?

Oswald.
As men were racked of old.

Rykke.
That ends it: Mammon's day is done!

Stromer.
I care not for my life—but to be racked!
It's monstrous, barbarous, out of date, and mad.

Larum.
Your sudden penitence and this strange tale
Require some proof, my lord of Christianstadt.
If we could see the abbot.

Oswald.
Come with me now,
And see him. He lies in prison underground,
Alone, disjointed, a forgotten foe.

Larum.
In God's name and in man's deliver him,
And show the people Mammon's handiwork!

Oswald.
My very purpose!—and it gathers shape.
You know my house stands opposite the palace:
We'll set the abbot in a window there;
I shall address the soldiers; tell the whole
Enormity of Mammon's parricide,
Confessed to me to-day—

Larum.
I knew it!

Oswald.
All
Believed it save myself:—the treacherous death
He dealt his brother—

Larum.
Known to you?

Oswald.
To me
And others:—Anselm's sudden end; and last,
The plight of Gottlieb set before their eyes.

Larum.
The King will speak.

Oswald.
And so will I! A cause,
So private to myself it must remain
Untold, will point, will edge, will barb my words,
And so envenom them that Mammon's heart
Will shrivel in his breast.

Larum.
Whatever course
We follow we must see the abbot first.

Oswald.
Come quickly, then. The abbot's broken body
Will rouse a fury in the hearts of men
That only Mammon's overthrow can quench.