HAKON [turning round angrily].—­
  Thrall, thou darest! 
  Where hast thou got it?

  OLAF [takes his hat off, and throws off his cloak].—­
  On my shoulders, Earl. 
  Forgive me that I bring it thee myself
  In such a way:  ’twas easiest for me.

  HAKON.—­What, Olaf!  Ha! what treachery is here?

  OLAF.—­Old gray-beard, spare thy rash, heroic wrath. 
  Attempt not to fight Olaf, but remember
  That he has still his head upon his body,
  And that thy impotent, gray-bearded strength
  Was only fitting for the headless Olaf.

  HAKON [rushes at him].—­
  Ha, Hilfheim!

  OLAF [strikes his sword, and says in a loud voice].—­
  So, be quiet now, I say,
  And sheathe thy sword again.  My followers
  Surround the house; my vessels are a match
  For all of thine, and I myself have come
  To win the country in an honest fight. 
  Thyself hast urged me with thy plots to do it. 
  Thou standest like a despicable thrall
  In his own pitfall caught at last; but I
  Will make no use of these advantages
  Which fate has granted me.  I am convinced
  That I may boldly meet thee face to face. 
  Thy purpose, as thou seest, has wholly failed,
  And in his own blood does thy Thorer swim. 
  Thou seest ’twere easy for me to have seized thee;
  To strike thee down were even easier still: 
  But I the Christian doctrine do confess,
  And do such poor advantages despise. 
  So choose between two courses.  Still be Earl
  Of Hlade as thou wast, and do me homage,
  Or else take flight; for when we meet again
  ’Twill be the time for red and bleeding brows.

  HAKON [proudly and quietly].—­
  My choice is made.  I choose the latter, Olaf. 
  Thou callest me a villain and a thrall;
  That forces up a smile upon my lips. 
  Olaf, one hears indeed that thou art young;
  It is by mockery and arrogance
  That one can judge thy age.  Now, look at me
  Full in the eyes; consider well my brow: 
  Hast thou among the thralls e’er met such looks? 
  Dost think that cunning or that cowardice
  Could e’er have carved these wrinkles on my brow? 
  I did entice thee hither.  Ha! ’tis true
  I knew that thou didst wait but for a sign
  To flutter after the enticing bait;
  That in thy soul thou didst more highly prize
  Thy kinship with an extinct race of kings
  Than great Earl Hakon’s world-renowned deeds;
  That thou didst watch the opportunity
  To fall upon the old man in his rest. 
  Does it astonish thee that I should wish
  Quickly to rid myself of such a foe? 
  That I deceived a dreamer who despised
  The mighty gods,—­does that astonish thee? 
  Does it astonish thee that I approved
  My warrior’s purpose, since a hostile fate
  Attempted to dethrone, not only me,
  But all Valhalla’s gods?