Chapter IV: Part 4

OLAF SKAKTAVL. So be it! I have one sound hand left yet. (Gives her his hand.) Inger Gyldenlove--your name shall not die out through me.

(Follows NILS STENSSON into the inner room.)

LADY INGER (pale and trembling). But dare I----?
(A noise is heard in the room; she rushes with a scream towards
the door.)
No, no,--it must not be!
(A heavy fall is heard within; she covers her ears with her
hands and hurries back across the hall with a wild look.
After a pause she takes her hands cautiously away, listens
again and says softly:)
Now it is over. All is still within----
Thou sawest it, God--I repented me! But Olaf Skaktavl was too
swift of hand.

(OLAF SKAKTAVL comes silently into the hall.)

LADY INGER (after a pause, without looking at him). Is it done?

OLAF SKAKTAVL. You need fear him no more; he will betray no one.

LADY INGER (as before). Then he is dumb?

OLAF SKAKTAVL. Six inches of steel in his breast. I felled him
with my left hand.

LADY INGER. Ay--the right was too good for such work.

OLAF SKAKTAVL. That is your affair;--the thought was yours.-- And now to Sweden! Peace be with you meanwhile! When next we meet at Ostrat, I shall bring another with me.

(Goes out by the furthest door on the right.)

LADY INGER. Blood on my hands. Then it was to come to that!--
He begins to be dear-bought now.

(BIORN comes in, with a number of Swedish men-at-arms, by the
first door on the right.)

ONE OF THE MEN-AT-ARMS. Pardon me, if you are the lady of the
house----

LADY INGER. Is it Count Sture you seek?

THE MAN-AT-ARMS. The same.

LADY INGER. Then you are on the right scent. The Count has
sought refuge with me.

THE MAN-AT-ARMS. Refuge? Pardon, my noble lady,--you have no
power to harbour him; for----

LADY INGER. That the Count himself has doubtless understood; and therefore he has--ay, look for yourselves--therefore he has taken his own life.

THE MAN-AT-ARMS. His own life!

LADY INGER. Look for yourselves. You will find the corpse within there. And since he already stands before another judge, it is my prayer that he may be borne hence with all the honour that beseems his noble birth.--Biorn, you know my own coffin has stood ready this many a year in the secret chamber. (To the Men- at-Arms.) I pray that in it you will bear Count Sture's body to Sweden.

THE MAN-AT-ARMS. It shall be as you command. (To one of the others.) Haste with these tidings to Jens Bielke. He holds the road with the rest of the troop. We others must in and----

(One of the Men-at-Arms goes out to the right; the others
go with BIORN into the room on the left.)

LADY INGER (moves about for a time in uneasy silence). If Count Sture had not said farewell to the world so hurriedly, within a month he had hung on a gallows, or had sat for all his days in a dungeon. Had he been better served with such a lot? Or else he had bought his life by betraying my child into the hands of my foes. Is it _I_, then, that have slain him? Does not even the wolf defend her cubs? Who dare condemn me for striking my claws into him that would have reft me of my flesh and blood?--It had to be. No mother but would have done even as I. But 'tis no time for idle musings now. I must to work. (Sits down by the table on the left.) I will write to all my friends throughout the land. They rise as one man to support the great cause. A new king,--regent first, and then king---- (Begins to write, but falls into thought, and says softly:) Whom will they choose in the dead man's place?--A king's mother----? 'Tis a fair word. It has but one blemish--the hateful likeness to another word.--King's _mother_ and king's _murderer_.*--King's mother--one that takes a king's life. King's mother--one that gives a king life.

*The words in the original are "Kongemoder" and "Kongemorder,"
a difference of one letter only.

(She rises.) Well, then; I will make good what I have taken.--My son shall be king! (She sits down again and begins writing, but pushes the paper away again, and leans back in her chair.) There is no comfort in a house where lies a corpse. 'Tis therefore I feel so strangely. (Turns her head to one side as if speaking to some one.) Not therefore? Why else should it be? (Broodingly.) Is there such a great gulf, then, between openly striking down a foe and slaying one--thus? Knut Alfson had cleft many a brain with his sword; yet was his own as peaceful as a child's. Why then do I ever see this--(makes a motion as though striking with a knife)--this stab in the heart--and the gush of red blood after? (Rings, and goes on speaking while shifting about her papers.) Hereafter I will have none of these ugly sights. I will work both day and night. And in a month--in a month my son will be here---- ----

BIORN (entering). Did you strike the bell, my lady?

LADY INGER (writing). Bring more lights. See to it in future
that there are many lights in the room

(BIORN goes out again to the left.)

LADY INGER (after a pause, rises impetuously). No, no, no;--I cannot guide the pen to-night! My head is burning and throbbing---- (Startled, listens.) What is _that?_ Ah, they are screwing the lid on the coffin in there. When I was a child they told me the story of Sir Age,* who rose up and walked with his coffin on his back.--If he in there were one night to think of coming with the coffin on his back, to thank me for the loan? (Laughs quietly.) Hm--what have we grown people to do with childish fancies? (Vehemently.) But such stories are hurtful none the less! They give uneasy dreams. When my son is king, they shall be forbidden.

*Pronounce _Oaghe_. [Note: "Age" has a ring above the "A",
"Oaghe" an umlaut above the "e".--D. L.]

(Goes up and down once or twice; then opens the window.)
How long is it, commonly, ere a body begins to rot? All the
rooms must be aired. 'Tis not wholesome here till that be done.

(BIORN comes in with two lighted branch-candlesticks, which
he places on the tables.)

LADY INGER (who has begun on the papers again).
It is well. See you forget not what I have said. Many lights on
the table!
What are they about now in there?

BIORN. They are busy screwing down the coffin-lid.

LADY INGER (writing). Are they screwing it down _tight?_

BIORN. As tight as need be.

LADY INGER. Ay, ay--who can tell how tight it needs to be? Do you see that 'tis well done. (Goes up to him with her hand full of papers, and says mysteriously:) Biorn, you are an old man; but _one_ counsel I will give you. Be on your guard against all men--both those that _are_ dead and those that are still to die.--Now go in--go in and see to it that they screw the lid down tightly.

BIORN (softly, shaking his head). I cannot make her out.

(Goes back again into the room on the left.)

LADY INGER (begins to seal a letter, but throws it down half- closed; walks up and down awhile, and then says vehemently:) Were I a coward I had never done it--never to all eternity! Were I a coward, I had shrieked to myself: Refrain, ere yet thy soul is utterly lost! (Her eye falls on Sten Sture's picture; she turns to avoid seeing it, and says softly:) He is laughing down at me as though he were alive! Pah! (Turns the picture to the wall without looking at it.) Wherefore did you laugh? Was it because I did evil to your son? But the other,--is not he your son too? And he is _mine_ as well; mark that! (Glances stealthily along the row of pictures.) So wild as they are to-night, I have never seen them yet. Their eyes follow me wherever I may go. (Stamps on the floor.) I will not have it! (Begins to turn all the pictures to the wall.) Ay, if it were the Holy Virgin herself---- ----- Thinkest thou _now_ is the time----? Why didst thou never hear my prayers, my burning prayers, that I might get back my child? Why? Because the monk of Wittenberg is right. There is no mediator between God and man! (She draws her breath heavily and continues in ever-increasing distraction.) It is well that I know what to think in such things. There was no one to see what was done in there. There is none to bear witness against me. (Suddenly stretches out her hands and whispers:) My son! My beloved child! Come to me! Here I am! Hush! I will tell you something: They hate me up there--beyond the stars-- because I bore you into the world. It was meant that I should bear the Lord God's standard over all the land. But I went my own way. It is therefore I have had to suffer so much and so long.

BIORN (comes from the room on the left). My lady, I have to
tell you---- Christ save me--what is this?

LADY INGER (has climbed up into the high-seat by the right-hand wall). Hush! Hush! I am the King's mother. They have chosen my son king. The struggle was hard ere it came to this--for 'twas with the Almighty One himself I had to strive.

NILS LYKKE (comes in breathless from the right). He is saved!
I have Jens Bielke's promise. Lady Inger,--know that----

LADY INGER. Peace, I say! look how the people swarm.
(A funeral hymn is heard from the room within.)
There comes the procession. What a throng! All bow themselves
before the King's mother. Ay, ay; has she not fought for her son--
even till her hands grew red withal?--Where are my daughters? I
see them not.

NILS LYKKE. God's blood!--what has befallen here?

LADY INGER. My daughters--my fair daughters! I have none any more. I had _one_ left, and her I lost even as she was mounting her bridal bed. (Whispers.) Lucia's corpse lay in it. There was no room for two.

NILS LYKKE. Ah--it has come to this! The Lord's vengeance is
upon me.

LADY INGER. Can you see him? Look, look! It is the King. It is Inger Gyldenlove's son! I know him by the crown and by Sten Sture's ring that he wears round his neck. Hark, what a joyful sound! He is coming! Soon will he be in my arms! Ha-ha!--who conquers, God or I.

(The Men-at-Arms come out with the coffin.)

LADY INGER (clutches at her head and shrieks). The corpse!
(Whispers.) Pah! It is a hideous dream.

(Sinks back into the high-seat.)

JENS BIELKE (who has come in from the right, stops and cries in
astonishment). Dead! Then after all----

ONE OF THE MEN-AT-ARMS. It was himself----

JENS BIELKE (with a look at NILS LYKKE). He himself----?

NILS LYKKE. Hush!

LADY INGER (faintly, coming to herself). Ay, right; now I
remember it all.

JENS BIELKE (to the Men-at-Arms). Set down the corpse. It is
not Count Sture.

ONE OF THE MEN-AT-ARMS. Your pardon, Captain;--this ring that
he wore round his neck----

NILS LYKKE (seizes his arm). Be still!

LADY INGER (starts up). The ring? The ring?
(Rushes up and snatches the ring from him.)
Sten Sture's ring! (With a shriek.) Oh, Jesus Christ--my son!

(Throws herself down on the coffin.)

THE MEN-AT-ARMS. Her son?

JENS BIELKE (at the same time). Inger Gyldenlove's son?

NILS LYKKE. So it is.

JENS BIELKE. But why did you not tell me----?

BIORN (trying to raise her up). Help! help! My lady--what
ails you?

LADY INGER (in a faint voice, half raising herself). What ails
me? I lack but another coffin, and a grave beside my child.

(Sinks again, senseless on the coffin. NILS LYKKE goes hastily
out to the right. General consternation among the rest.)