Page:The New Monthly Magazine - Volume 095.djvu/157

150 Wake, slave! Wake—Karker—say, what doth betide

That hideous smile?

Karker. Hah! I was dreaming then.

Hakon. What didst thou dream?

Karker.I dreamt …

Hakon. Hush! hark!

What can that uproar be—yonder—above?

Karker. A troop of soldiers, Jarl, for I can hear

The clank of arms. King Olaf's men, 'tis like,

Are seeking you.

Hakon. This cave is all unknown.

Thora gave me the key; the door is clamped

With iron bolts. Here, surely, we are safe!

Karker. Hearken, my lord—hear you not what they say?

Hakon. What do they say?

Karker.They say King Olaf will

Reward the man with honour and with gold

Who brings your head to him.

Hakon (looking keenly at him). But that reward

Thou'lt never earn? Why dost thou tremble so?

Why are thy cheeks so pale—thy lips so blue?

Karker. Ah! I am still uneasy at my dream.

If you read dreams, my lord, I'll tell you mine.

Karker’s dreams arc not over pleasing to his lord, who begins to feel some unpleasant suspicions about him; however, he desires him to go to rest, and declares his intention of likewise seeking repose. Karker prepares to obey, but first busies himself about the lamp. Hakon asks him what he is doing. He answers, that he is going to extinguish the lamp; whereupon his master exclaims:

Nay, go to rest, and let the lamp burn on!

Without it, we should be involved in gloom Too dark and dismal.

.....Surely darkness is

A type of death—more black and terrible

Than death itself—while light gives confidence.

Then let the lamp alone. Feebly it burns—

Better that light than none. Go sleep, my son!

Hakon. Karker! art thou asleep?

Karker. I am, Sir Jarl.

Hakon. Ha! stupid, doltish slave!

Hakon—Hakon!

Is yonder serf of all thou didst possess

The only remnant left? I trust him not...

Give me thy dagger, Karker, for a slave

No weapon needs.

Karker. You gave it me, my lord.

But here it is.

Hakon.Sleep now.

KarkerI will.

Hakon.My head

Feels strangely heavy; I am tired and faint

After the morning's strife, the evening’s flight,