The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 01 (of 11)Ibsen, Henrik
General
The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 01 (of 11)
Ibsen, Henrik
Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906 -- Translations into English; Norwegian drama -- Translations into English
[_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. My son has been
chosen 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 coronation train. What a throng! All men 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._] In it lay Lucia dead. 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! ’Tis the King. It is Inger
Gyldenlöve’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! ’Tis 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.
’Twas he himself that——
JENS BIELKE.
[_With a look at_ NILS LYKKE.] He himself——?
NILS LYKKE.
Hush!
LADY INGER.
[_Faintly, coming to herself._] Ay, right;—now I remember
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 around his
neck——
NILS LYKKE.
[_Seizes his arm._] Be still!
LADY INGER.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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