(In her lodgings)
To-day King Harald
Must hold his ting-peace;
For Einar has here
Five hundred peasants.
Our son Eindride
Safeguards his father,
Who goes in fearless
The King defying.
Thus maybe Harald,
Mindful that Einar
Has crowned in Norway
Two men with kingship,
Will grant that peace be,
On law well grounded;
This was his promise,
His people's longing.--
What rolling sand-waves
Swirl up the roadway!
What noise is nearing!
Look forth, my footboy!
--The wind's but blowing!
Here storms beat wildly;
The fjord is open,
The fells low-lying.
The town's unchanged
Since child I trod it;
The wind sends hither
The snarling sea-hounds.
--What flaming thunder
From thousand voices!
Steel-weapons redden
With stains of warfare!
The shields are clashing!
See, sand-clouds rising,
Speer-billows rolling
Round Tambarskelve!
Hard is his fortune!--
Oh, faithless Harald:
Death's ravens roving
Ride o'er thy ting-peace!
Fetch forth the wagon,
Drive to the fighting!
At home to cower
Would cost my life now.
(On the way)
O yeomen, yield not,
Circle and save him!
Eindride, aid now
Thine aged father!
Build a shield-bulwark
For him bow-bending!
Death has no allies
Like Einar's arrows!
And thou, Saint Olaf,
Oh, for thy son's sake!
Help him with good words
In Gimle's high hall!
( Nearer )
Our foes are the stronger ...
They fight now no longer ...
Subduing,
Pursuing,
They press to the river,--
What is it that's done?
What makes me thus quiver?
Will fortune us shun?
What stillness astounding!
The peasants are staying,
Their lances now grounding,
Two dead men surrounding,
Nor Harald delaying!
What throngs now enwall
The ting-hall's high door! ...
Silent they all
Let me pass o'er!
_Where is Eindride_!--
Glances of pity
Fear lest they show it,
Flee lest they greet me ...
So I must know it:
Two deaths there will meet me!--
Room! I must see:
Oh, it is they!--
Can it so be?--
Yes, it is they!
Fallen the noblest
Chief of the Northland;
Best of Norwegian
Bows is broken.
Fallen is Einar
Tambarskelve,
Our son beside him,--
Eindride!
Murdered with malice,
He, who to Magnus
More was than father,
King Knut the Mighty's
Son's counselor good.
Slain by assassins
Svolder's sharp-shooter,
The lion that leaped on the
Heath of Lyrskog!
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