6o James Ciiristian Lindbevi^ 



That scheme was never mine ; it came from Thorer. 



'T is he must answer Valhal ; he, not I. 



But Odin bears no wrath. Shall not this craze 



Be checked, whose direst threats would hurl the gods 



Down from their olden seats ? 'T is not alone 



My king-ly power that Olaf craves, but more: 



Valfaudur's.^^ So, let Olaf fall ! The storm 



A'fust cease. The time has come, the time has come. 



It whitens fast, my hair ! But, faded locks. 



Have patience, patience ; soon ye '11 turn to gold. 



The roguish maidens mocked me formerly 



Because my hair was black instead of gold. 



Have patience, children ! Gold ? A golden gold 



My hair shall be when gilded by the crown. 



Who comes, who comes ? Ha, surely, Thorer Klake. 



He promised me to bring me Olaf's head ! 



Mine eyes refuse to look upon the sight. 



[Remains seated in the former position. Olaf Trygveson 

 enters, zvrapped in his cloak, and wearing a broad hat.] 



Hakon. [Without turning toivard him.] 



My honest, valiant Thorer, hast come at last ? 

 Have all things prospered, even as thou planned. 

 And bringest thou what was promised, — answer, Thorer ! 



Olaf. It all has happened as it should, my lord. 

 But pardon Thorer, sir, that he himself 

 Does not bring. Olaf's head. He found it hard 

 To do. Thor knows, he felt a sort of loathing 

 To bear the head himself, and hence sent me. 



Hakon. 'T is well ! Then go and hide it deeply, deep, 

 Dost hear me ? in the bosom of the earth. 

 I '11 not behold it. Tt comes to me in dreams. 

 Go bury it and tell thy master, slave, 

 To hasten hither. 



Olaf. Thorer Klake sleeps. 



Hakon. What, sleeps ? 



Olaf. A noon-day sleep ; he stiffly stretched 



Himself beneath a shadv elder-tree. 



98 



