_Chancellor_. Illustrious Lady, honored Queen, as chancellor of thy appointed realm, I offer thee this sword whereon to take the oath: that in thy hand, so strong because so weak, what first prevailed as thy country's law, what now prevails, and what shall prevail again when violence and lust cease to clutch after our soul's sanctuaries,--that law on which we have relied, so mild it was, because created by a free and happy fatherland--will be forever new and vigorous. _Queen_. I swear it on the iron sword of my kingdom, and on the runes carved thereupon; though nature has denied it to a woman to avenge a violated oath with her own hand, yet I will never rest in my grave unless all is fulfilled that I have spoken. I swore it solemnly, and on this sword I will announce and reavow to you, that whosoever conquers in this fight may claim me for his wife when he desires.... Speak now, ye who cursed my mourning and my sorrow's backward glance: do I fulfill your will with shuddering? Do I not give ye the King ye seek? [_The nobles strike their shields with their swords in token of approval._] _Chancellor_. Now to you who stand prepared to ring the throne and kingdom with the sharpness of your swords; before the land submits itself to the victor, give answer who you are! _Duke_. Thou knowest me well. _Chancellor_. Who knows thee not? Flames spread before thee hither like a banner, the vulture knows thee that shrieks after carrion, the auk knows thee on the blood-furrowed sea; yet custom demands, the which thou knowest not, that thou shalt name thyself at this hour. _Duke_. I am the Duke of Gotland! _Hans Lorbass_ [_highly excited, pointing to_ Prince Witte]. He is the Duke of Gotland! [_Great disturbance and amazement._] _Coelestin_. We are groping here in a black riddle. _Chancellor_ [_to_ Prince Witte]. Witness thyself. _Prince Witte_. If there is a man here in whom dwells a spirit of sacrifice, a worship of the right, and not of power and bloody gain, to him I speak, as to a stem of that ancient race which still springs from Gotland's gods; I boldly say: "I am." But to that vicious misbegotten wight who cringes in the dust and worships tyranny if it but prosper him, to him I say: "No, I am not." _Chancellor_. A lofty mind, bred in the bitterness which deep sorrow brings, speaks in thy words and gives them weight. But yet--we know not who stands before us as the Duke of Gotland. _Duke_. It seems to me, my lords, that the sword will show. _Chancellor_. True enough. If the Queen will. [_The_ Queen _bows her head in assent. The_ Chancellor _gives a sign to the trumpeters and they blow a signal which is answered below in the court. The nobles make their obeisances to the_ Queen _and go down the steps to the right and left._] _Hans Lorbass_ [_meanwhile_]. Remember that thrust I showed thee once: at the arm-joint where the leather is easily cut, thou canst-- _Prince Witte_ [_alarmed_]. Where are the feathers?