But it was all in vain; each prayer was wasted,--
Like sunshine lavished on a barren rock,
No growth alluring from his stony heart.
King Helge's sullen countenance was like
His heart,--a pale-faced "No" to human prayers.
"A peasant's son," said he, contemptuously,
"Could Ing'borg gain, but who profanes the temple
Ill-suited seems to holy Valhal's daughter.
Hast thou not, Fridthjof, broken Balder's peace?
Hast thou not seen my sister in his temple
When day had hid itself from your communion?
Say yes, or no!" A deafening shout resounded
From all those rings of men: "Say no, say no,
We take thee at thy word, we sue for thee,--
Thou son of Thorstein, equal to a king;
Say no, say no, and Ingeborg is thine!"
"My life's delight hangs on a feeble word,"
Said I, "but fear it not, king Helge!
I would not lie myself to Valhal's joy,
Much less to earth's. Thy sister I have seen,
Have talked with her beneath the temple's night,
But Balder's peace I have not therefore broken."
They let me say no more. Abhorrent cries
Flew through the thing, and those who nearest stood
Drew back as from a pestilent disease;
And when I looked around, their superstition
Had palsied every tongue, and blanched each cheek
So lately glowing with expectant joy.
And then king Helge triumphed. With a voice
As sad, as awful as the ghostly vala's