the bishop of borglum and his warriors-第1部分

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　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　FAIRY　TALES　OF　HANS　CHRISTIAN　ANDERSEN

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　BISHOP　OF　BORGLUM　AND　HIS　WARRIORS

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　by　Hans　Christian　Andersen



　　　　OUR　scene　is　laid　in　Northern　Jutland；　in　the　so…called　〃wild

moor。〃　We　hear　what　is　called　the　〃Wester…wow…wow〃…　the　peculiar

roar　of　the　North　Sea　as　it　breaks　against　the　western　coast　of

Jutland。　It　rolls　and　thunders　with　a　sound　that　penetrates　for

miles　into　the　land；　and　we　are　quite　near　the　roaring。　Before　us

rises　a　great　mound　of　sand…　a　mountain　we　have　long　seen；　and　towards

which　we　are　wending　our　way；　driving　slowly　along　through　the　deep

sand。　On　this　mountain　of　sand　is　a　lofty　old　building…　the　convent　of

Borglum。　In　one　of　its　wings　（the　larger　one）　there　is　still　a　church。

And　at　this　convent　we　now　arrive　in　the　late　evening　hour；　but　the

weather　is　clear　in　the　bright　June　night　around　us；　and　the　eye　can

range　far；　far　over　field　and　moor　to　the　Bay　of　Aalborg；　over　heath

and　meadow；　and　far　across　the　deep　blue　sea。

　　　　Now　we　are　there；　and　roll　past　between　barns　and　other　farm

buildings；　and　at　the　left　of　the　gate　we　turn　aside　to　the　Old　Castle

Farm；　where　the　lime　trees　stand　in　lines　along　the　walls；　and；

sheltered　from　the　wind　and　weather；　grow　so　luxuriantly　that　their

twigs　and　leaves　almost　conceal　the　windows。

　　　　We　mount　the　winding　staircase　of　stone；　and　march　through　the

long　passages　under　the　heavy　roof…beams。　The　wind　moans　very

strangely　here；　both　within　and　without。　It　is　hardly　known　how；　but

the　people　say…　yes；　people　say　a　great　many　things　when　they　are

frightened　or　want　to　frighten　others…　they　say　that　the　old　dead

choir…men　glide　silently　past　us　into　the　church；　where　mass　is

sung。　They　can　be　heard　in　the　rushing　of　the　storm；　and　their　singing

brings　up　strange　thoughts　in　the　hearers…　thoughts　of　the　old　times

into　which　we　are　carried　back。

　　　　On　the　coast　a　ship　is　stranded；　and　the　bishop's　warriors　are

there；　and　spare　not　those　whom　the　sea　has　spared。　The　sea　washes

away　the　blood　that　has　flowed　from　the　cloven　skulls。　The　stranded

goods　belong　to　the　bishop；　and　there　is　a　store　of　goods　here。　The

sea　casts　up　tubs　and　barrels　filled　with　costly　wine　for　the

convent　cellar；　and　in　the　convent　is　already　good　store　of　beer　and

mead。　There　is　plenty　in　the　kitchen…　dead　game　and　poultry；　hams

and　sausages；　and　fat　fish　swim　in　the　ponds　without。

　　　　The　Bishop　of　Borglum　is　a　mighty　lord。　He　has　great

possessions；　but　still　he　longs　for　more…　everything　must　bow　before

the　mighty　Olaf　Glob。　His　rich　cousin　at　Thyland　is　dead；　and　his

widow　is　to　have　the　rich　inheritance。　But　how　comes　it　that　one

relation　is　always　harder　towards　another　than　even　strangers　would

be？　The　widow's　husband　had　possessed　all　Thyland；　with　the

exception　of　the　church　property。　Her　son　was　not　at　home。　In　his

boyhood　he　had　already　started　on　a　journey；　for　his　desire　was　to　see

foreign　lands　and　strange　people。　For　years　there　had　been　no　news

of　him。　Perhaps　he　had　been　long　laid　in　the　grave；　and　would　never

come　back　to　his　home；　to　rule　where　his　mother　then　ruled。

　　　　〃What　has　a　woman　to　do　with　rule？〃　said　the　bishop。

　　　　He　summoned　the　widow　before　a　law　court；　but　what　did　he　gain

thereby？　The　widow　had　never　been　disobedient　to　the　law；　and　was

strong　in　her　just　rights。

　　　　Bishop　Olaf　of　Borglum；　what　dost　thou　purpose？　What　writest

thou　on　yonder　smooth　parchment；　sealing　it　with　thy　seal；　and

intrusting　it　to　the　horsemen　and　servants；　who　ride　away；　far　away；

to　the　city　of　the　Pope？

　　　　It　is　the　time　of　falling　leaves　and　of　stranded　ships；　and　soon

icy　winter　will　come。

　　　　Twice　had　icy　winter　returned　before　the　bishop　welcomed　the

horsemen　and　servants　back　to　their　home。　They　came　from　Rome　with　a

papal　decree…　a　ban；　or　bull；　against　the　widow　who　had　dared　to

offend　the　pious　bishop。　〃Cursed　be　she　and　all　that　belongs　to　her。

Let　her　be　expelled　from　the　congregation　and　the　Church。　Let　no　man

stretch　forth　a　helping　hand　to　her；　and　let　friends　and　relations

avoid　her　as　a　plague　and　a　pestilence！〃

　　　　〃What　will　not　bend　must　break；〃　said　the　Bishop　of　Borglum

　　　　And　all　forsake　the　widow；　but　she　holds　fast　to　her　God。　He　is

her　helper　and　defender。

　　　　One　servant　only…　an　old　maid…　remained　faithful　to　her；　and

with　the　old　servant；　the　widow　herself　followed　the　plough；　and　the

crop　grew；　although　the　land　had　been　cursed　by　the　Pope　and　by　the

bishop。

　　　　〃Thou　child　of　perdition；　I　will　yet　carry　out　my　purpose！〃

cried　the　Bishop　of　Borglum。　〃Now　will　I　lay　the　hand　of　the　Pope　upon

thee；　to　summon　thee　before　the　tribunal　that　shall　condemn　thee！〃

　　　　Then　did　the　widow　yoke　the　last　two　oxen　that　remained　to　her

to　a　wagon；　and　mounted　up　on　the　wagon；　with　her　old　servant；　and

travelled　away　across　the　heath　out　of　the　Danish　land。　As　a

stranger　she　came　into　a　foreign　country；　where　a　strange　tongue　was

spoken　and　where　new　customs　prevailed。　Farther　and　farther　she

journeyed；　to　where　green　hills　rise　into　mountains；　and　the　vine

clothes　their　sides。　Strange　merchants　drive　by　her；　and　they　look

anxiously　after　their　wagons　laden　with　merchandise。　They　fear　an

attack　from　the　armed　followers　of　the　robber…knights。　The　two　poor

women；　in　their　humble　vehicle　drawn　by　two　black　oxen；　travel

fearlessly　through　the　dangerous　sunken　road　and　through　the

darksome　forest。　And　now　they　were　in　Franconia。　And　there　met　them

a　stalwart　knight；　with　a　train　of　twelve　armed　followers。　He

paused；　gazed　at　the　strange　vehicle；　and　questioned　the　women　as　to

the　goal　of　their　journey　and　the　place　whence　they　came。　Then　one

of　them　mentioned　Thyland　in　Denmark；　and　spoke　of　her　sorrows；　of　her

woes；　which　were　soon　to　cease；　for　so　Divine　Providence　had　willed

it。　For　the　stranger　knight　is　the　widow's　son！　He　seized　her　hand；　he

embraced　her；　and　the　mother　wept。　For　years　she　had　not　been　able

to　weep；　but　had　only　bitten　her　lips　till　the　blood　started。



　　　　It　is　the　time　of　falling　leaves　and　of　stranded　ships；　and　soon

will　icy　winter　come。

　　　　The　sea　rolled　wine…tubs　to　the　shore　for　the　bishop's　cellar。

In　the　kitchen　the　deer　roasted　on　the　spit　before　the　fire。　At

Borglum　it　was　warm　and　cheerful　in　the　heated　rooms；　while　cold

winter　raged　without；　when　a　piece　of　news　was　brought　to　the

bishop。　〃Jens　Glob；　of　Thyland；　has　come　back；　and　his　mother　with

him。〃　Jens　Glob　laid　a　complaint　against　the　bishop；　and　summoned

him　before　the　temporal　and　the　spiritual　court。

　　　　〃That　will　avail　him　little；〃　said　the　bishop。　〃Best　leave　off　thy

efforts；　knight　Jens。〃



　　　　Again　it　is　the　time　of　falling　leaves　and　stranded　ships。　Icy

winter　comes　again；　and　the　〃white　bees〃　are　swarming；　and　sting　the

traveller's　face　till　they　melt。

　　　　〃Keen　weather　to…day！〃　say　the　people；　as　they　step　in。

　　　　Jens　Glob　stands　so　deeply　wrapped　in　thought；　that　he　singes

the　skirt　of　his　wide　garment。

　　　　〃Thou　Borglum　bishop；〃　he　exclaims；　〃I　shall　subdue　thee　after

all！　Under　the　shield　of　the　Pope；　the　law　cannot　reach　thee；　but　Jens

Glob　shall　reach　thee！〃

　　　　Then　he　writes　a　letter　to　his　brother…in…law；　Olaf　Hase；　in

Sallingland；　and　prays　that　knight　to　meet　him　on　Christmas　eve；　at

mass；　in　the　church　at　Widberg。　The　bishop　himself　is　to　read　the

mass；　and　consequently　will　journey　from　Borglum　to　Thyland；　and

this　is　known　to　Jens　Glob。

　　　　Moorland　and　meadow　are　covered　with　ice　and　snow。　The　marsh

will　bear　horse　and　rider；　the　bishop　with　his　priests　and　armed

men。　They　ride　the　shortest　way；　through　the　waving　reeds；　where　the

wind　moans　sadly。

　　　　Blow　thy　brazen　trumpet；　thou　trumpeter　clad　in　fox…skin！　it

sounds　merrily　in　the　clear　air。　So　they　ride　on　over　heath　and

moorland…　over　what　is　the　garden　of　Fata　Morgana　in　the　hot　summer；

though　now　icy；　like　all　the　country…　towards　the　church　of　Widberg。

　　　　The　wind　is　blowing　his　trumpet　too…　blowing　it　harder　and　harder。

He　blows　up　a　storm…　a　terrible　storm…　that　increases　more　and　more。

Towards　the　church　they　ride；　as　fast　as　they　may　through　the　storm。

The　church　stands　firm；　but　the　storm　careers　on　over　field　and

moorland；　over　land　and　sea。

　　　　Borglum's　bishop　reaches　the　church；　but　Olaf　Hase　will　scarce

do　so；　however　hard　he　may　ride。　He　journeys　with　his　warriors　on

the　farther　side　of　the　bay；　in　order　that　he　may　help　Jens　Glob；

now　that　the　bishop　is　to　be　summoned　before　the　judgment　seat　of

the　Highest。

　　　　The　church　is　the　judgment　hall；　the　altar　is　the　council　table。

The　lights　burn　clear　in　the　heavy　brass　candelabra。　The　storm　reads

out　the　accusation　and　the　sentence；　roaming　in　the　air　over　moor

and　heath；　and　over　the　rolling　waters。　No　ferry…boat　can　sail　over

the　bay　in　such　weather　as　this。

　　　　Olaf　Hase　makes　halt　at　Ottesworde。　There　he　dismisses　his

warriors；　presents　them　with　their　horses　and　harness；　and　gives

them　leave　to　ride　home　and　greet　his　wife。　He　intends　to　risk　his

life　alone　in　the　roaring　waters；　but　they　are　to　bear　witness　for　him

that　it　is　not　his　fault　if　Jens　Glob　stands　without　reinforcement

in　the　church　at　Widberg。　The　faithful　warriors　will　not　leave　him；

but　follow　him　out　into　the　deep　waters。　Ten　of　them　are　carried　away；

but　Olaf　Hase　and　two　of　the　youngest　men　reach　the　farther　side。　They

have　still　four　miles　to　ride。

　　　　It　is　past　midnight。　It　is　Christmas。　The　wind　has　abated。　The

church　is　lighted　up；　the　gleaming　radiance　shines　through　the

window…frames；　and　pours　out　over　meadow　and　heath。　The　mass　has

long　been　finished；　silence　reigns　in　the　church；　and　the　wax　is　heard

dropping　from　the　candles　to　the　stone　pavement。　And　now　Olaf　Hase

arrives。

　　　　In　the　forecourt　Jens　Glob　greets　him　kindly；　and　says；

　　　　〃I　have　just　made　an　agreement　with　the　bishop。〃

　　　　〃Sayest　thou　so？〃　replied　Olaf　Hase。　〃Then　neither　thou　nor　the

bishop　shall　quit　this　church　alive。〃

　　　　And　the　sword　leaps　from　the　scabbard；　and　Olaf　Hase　deals　a

blow　that　ma