Sigurd—­Do not tempt me, mother!

The Nun—­Hast thou taken thought of what may follow?  Hast thou thought of capture, of mutilation?

Sigurd—­I have some hymns left me from childhood.  I can sing them.

The Nun—­But I—­thy mother—­spare me!

Sigurd—­Make not to me this hour more bitter than death itself.

The Nun—­But why now die?  We have found one another.

Sigurd—­We two have nothing more to live for.

The Nun—­Wilt thou soon leave me?

Sigurd—­Till the morning sun appear we will sit together.  Let me lift thee upon this rock. [He does so, and casts himself at her feet.] It was fair that thou shouldst come to me.  All my life is now blotted out, and I am a child with thee once more.  And now we will seek out together the land of our inheritance.  I must away for a moment to take my leave, and then I shall be ready, and I think that thou too art ready.

Ivar Ingemundson [falling on his knee]—­My lord, now let me be your friend.

Sigurd [extending his hand]—­Ivar, thou wilt not leave her to-morrow?

Ivar Ingemundson—­Not until she is set free.

Sigurd—­And now sing me the Crusader’s song.  I may joyfully go hence after that.

Ivar Ingemundson [rises and sings]—­

Fair is the earth,
Fair is God’s heaven;
Fair is the pilgrim-path of the soul. 
Singing we go
Through the fair realms of earth,
Seeking the way to our heavenly goal.

Races shall come,
And shall pass away: 
And the world from age to age shall roll;
But the heavenly tones
Of our pilgrim song
Shall echo still in the joyous soul.

First heard of shepherds,
By angels sung,
Wide it has spread since that glad morn: 
Peace upon earth! 
Rejoice all men,
For unto us is a Savior born[1].

[The mother places both her hands on Sigurd’s head, and they look into one another’s eyes; he then rests his head upon her breast.]

[Footnote 1:  This song is borrowed by Bjoernson from the Danish poet B.S.  Ingemann, although it is slightly altered for its present use.]

Copyrighted by Houghton, Mifflin and Company, Boston.

* * * * *

HOW THE MOUNTAIN WAS CLAD

From ‘Arne’

There was a deep gorge between two mountains.  Through this gorge a large, full stream flowed heavily over a rough and stony bottom.  Both sides were high and steep, and so one side was bare; but close to its foot, and so near the stream that the latter sprinkled it with moisture every spring and autumn, stood a group of fresh-looking trees, gazing upward and onward, yet unable to advance this way or that.