NILS LYKKE. You are Sten Sture's son, good Sir.
NILS STENSSON (with the quiet of amazement). _I_ Sten Sture's son!
NILS LYKKE. On the mother's side too your blood is noble. Peter
Kanzler spoke not the truth, if he said that a poor peasant woman
was your mother.
NILS STENSSON. Oh strange, oh marvellous!--But can I believe----?
NILS LYKKE. You may believe all I tell you. But remember, all
this will be merely your ruin, if you should forget what you swore
to me by your father's salvation.
NILS STENSSON. Forget it? Nay, that you may be sure I never
shall.--But you to whom I have given my word,--tell me--who are
you?
NILS LYKKE. My name is Nils Lykke.
NILS STENSSON (surprised). Nils Lykke? Surely not the Danish
Councillor?
NILS LYKKE. Even so.
NILS STENSSON. And it was you----? 'Tis strange. How come you----?
NILS LYKKE. ----To be receiving missives from Peter Kanzler?
You marvel at that?
NILS STENSSON. I cannot deny it. He has ever named you as our
bitterest foe----
NILS LYKKE. And therefore you mistrust me?
NILS STENSSON. Nay, not wholly that; but--well, the devil take
musing!
NILS LYKKE. Well said. Go but your own way, and you are as sure
of the halter as you are of a Count's title and a chain of gold if
you trust to me.
NILS STENSSON. That will I. My hand upon it, dear Sir! Do
you but help me with good counsel as long as there is need; when
counsel gives place to blows I shall look to myself.
NILS LYKKE. It is well. Come with me now into yonder chamber,
and I will tell you how all these matters stand, and what you have
still to do.
(Goes out to the right.)
NILS STENSSON (with a glance at the picture). _I_ Sten Sture's
son! Oh, marvellous as a dream--!
(Goes out after NILS LYKKE.)