Bernhard Severin Ingemann

“ Cecilia's eve, and thy sword was not the last which was plunged into the breast of thy unhappy master and king. As a faithless traitor and regicide thou wert however but outlawed while I was a minor, but now thou shalt suffer just punishment, as surely as I wear Denmark's crown!"
"Is there not a single free man here, who dares to speak a word for me?" cried the captive, springing up with a wild look. "Ha! slaves of a tyrant! I despise ye," he continued, looking frantically around him. "The deed for which I was outlawed, was the proudest ever achieved by Danish man. ”

“ Nay, my brave Skirmen. You have never seen your master yield at tourney, nor yet at sharper fighting; much less shall you see him now give way. Here, indeed, I cannot defend my life and honour with this sword; but, if God wills, I will try another, that, without being a traitor to my country, I can use against my lord and king himself. My tongue must now be my sword, and righteousness my shield; now, it concerns not me alone, but the crown and kingdom. The revolt, it seems, is to be aided by Sweden and Norway. Now, then, I must to the king, even should the way to him lie amid serpents. ”

“ What you call our castles in the air are nevertheless far better than this much too real prison; and how can'st thou call Sir Kaggé grim? I think his bold, wolf-like eye-brows are perfectly lovely. Alas! sweet sister! I dreamed he was in distress and in peril of his life. He stood in chains before me, and bade me entreat the king for his life."
"He is assuredly thy bad angel, Ulrica!" answered Margaretha; "it is his fault that we are now here. Would thou hadst never believed his flatteries and false tongue, he loves no one in the world save himself." ”

“ Freedom cannot be purchased too dearly. But be not therefore the slave of a pen's stroke. The pretty little enthusiast will, at last, transform you into a quiet complaisant duke of South Jutland, who, in this life, will never think of being anything more, but, renouncing all his daring schemes, take to himself a quiet and pious wife, say good-night to this world's fleeting dreams of sovereignty, and sleep soundly in a Sleswick castle, like a true and loyal Danish vassal. ”

“ It is not the first time a great genius hath appeared a century too soon!"
"Silence, wretched juggler!" said Aagé. "The great man whom thou dishonourest, by calling thy master, was a wise and pious monk, I have been told, but no juggler and self-appointed priest. Thank the holy Virgin and her Son, whom thou deniest, for thy life to-day! It is not for thy wisdom, but for thy folly, and the confusion thou wouldest spread among the people, that I have caused thee to be bound."
Ere Aagé quitted the vessel he took Master Laurentius aside, and gazed on him with a look of thoughtful interest. ”

“ Who has paid you for the King of Denmark's life?"
"I am not a hired assassin," replied Lavé Rimaardson, proudly: "I am a knight of princely blood, and no king shall offend me with impunity. In the hour that you adjudged me an outlaw, I swore your death and downfall, King Erik! And were my right hand now free, I should keep my oath, and this moment would be your last."
"Madman!" exclaimed the king, stepping back; "if, by such audacious confession, you think to gain a respite, you are mistaken: you shall not even have time to name your accomplices, if you have them." ”

“ When our kings give each other their sisters we will dance with the Swedish maidens, and their young fellows again with ours, and no one shall look sour on the other, because we have tried our strength before in another sort of game. The Swedish princess, they say, is the fairest king's daughter in the world, as fair and straight as a lily, and as pious and mild as the blessed Queen Dagmar. Long life to her, by my soul and honour, and to our excellent young king besides, and to all frank and free men, and all pretty maidens, both here and in Sweden's land! ”

“ Eric was silent. The moon shone full on his noble form, and as he sat calm and erect on his fiery steed, with the white plume in his hat, and the purple mantle over his shoulder, he almost resembled the chivalrous St. George, about to strike his lance into the dragon's throat. His manly countenance was pale, and expressive of lofty indignation. "That I vowed to the dead I must perform," he said, after a thoughtful pause. "A wise monarch should disperse the ungodly."
As the king uttered these words an arrow whistled past his breast, and stuck in Drost Aagé's mantle.
"Murderers! traitors!" ”

“ You will have flattery, you will all of you be cheated and deceived--therefore you cling so fast to that flattering lie, but hate and persecute truth as ungodliness, heresy, or devilry--therefore are popes and bishops, like the prophets and evangelists of old, still able to lead the whole human race blindfold round in an eternal circle of error from one age to another until they have their eyes opened, and see that they stand where their blind fathers stood, by the closed book of nature, which amid their dreaming they have forgotten to open through the lapse of ages. ”

“ Drost Peter sprang up with warmth. "With reason, no one can despise us," he said; "and, without reason, no one shall dare to do so with impunity. The days of Denmark's glory are over, it is true; but honour even our worst foes shall leave us untouched. If we scorn the master we serve, we scorn ourselves," he continued. "The faults and errors of the king I cannot defend: it were despicable to respect them; but, as faithful servants, we should cover them with the cloak of charity when we can, and not place our glory in revealing his shame." ”

“ No assassin's dagger hath yet reached me, even though excommunicated and given over to the Evil One. I know it, Aagé; I have seen it--the hand of the righteous Lord was betwixt me and my deadly foes. No traitor and murderer--not even a soul murderer--no sinful archbishop or pope--not the arch-fiend himself--shall shake the crown upon this head. ”

“ So beg thy master, first and foremost, to take care of himself and the king, as he passes the barn of Finnerup. And now away! Give him a kiss, Aasé, and let him run. Thy norback, Skirmen, is more zealous than thyself in the king's service. Hearest thou not how impatiently he neighs?"
"Farewell, father Henner--farewell, dear Aasé!" exclaimed Skirmen, hastily. "But be cautious, Aasé! If thou passest for an elf, be as cunning as one; and, for God's sake, disappear as soon as you observe any mischief."
"Take care, my young knight, that I am not an elf in reality!" ”

“ How long will men shut their eyes on the great and only true revelation of the Deity, through the miracles and holy writ of nature! Mark my young friend! the time will come when the colossus of ignorance, barbarism, and madness, which hath been erected on nature's grave, and worshipped for centuries--must fall. As is the course of temporal things, so is that of the spiritual world--Stagnation is death and rottenness. We have stood stationary with antiquity and tradition. The powerful ferment of life hath subsided--life hath lost its savour. ”

“ If you may not or will not hereafter become my bride in reality, when these turmoils which now part us have ceased, and Denmark's throne again stands fast--I now vow to God, and by every saint, that Drost Peter Hessel shall go down unwedded into his grave, but never shall he forget his childhood's bride! Answer me not, noble-hearted Ingé! Crush not with a word the fairest hope of my life! I have an important work to perform in the world, and feel, by the blessing of God, strength and courage to complete it faithfully, even with this greatest loss. ”

“ Only through our means can nature's deity awake to consciousness and self-knowledge. In us, and in our will alone lives the only true God we should obey. Courage, Laurentius!--courage! Truth must make its way--the slumbering and disguised god of nature must be wakened and unveiled. It must open to us its vast recesses, it must restore to us what it hath robbed and hidden--the philosopher's stone must be found, even though its workings should seem to us eternal death and petrifaction. ”

“ Man's strength is but a reed; but the Lord's hand is mighty, and vengeance is his. Repent thee, Stig Andersen, or thine hour is near. 'Twas thus the holy father bade me warn thee: wash the king's blood from thine hands, and do penance; or set thine house in order, and prepare for death and perdition. Thy soul is weighed and found wanting--thy day of grace is but short."
"Henner! is it thee?" cried the marsk, as he brandished his sword. "But beware! thy crazy grayhead shall not always protect thee." ”