The truth? What mean you by that? Tell me but——!
NILS LYKKE.
First your oath! The holiest, the most inviolable you can
swear.
NILS STENSSON.
That you shall have. Yonder on the wall hangs the picture of
the Holy Virgin——
NILS LYKKE.
The Holy Virgin has grown infirm of late. Know you not what
the monk of Wittenberg maintains?
NILS STENSSON.
Fie! how can you heed the monk of Wittenberg? Peter Kanzler
says he is a heretic.
NILS LYKKE.
Well, let us not dispute the matter. Here can I show you a
saint will serve full well to make oath by.
[_Points to a picture hanging on one of the panels._
Come hither,—swear that you will be silent till I myself
release your tongue—silent, as you hope for Heaven’s
salvation for yourself and for the man whose picture hangs
there.
NILS STENSSON.
[_Approaching the picture._] I swear it—so help me God’s
holy word!
[_Falls back a step in amazement._
But—Christ save me——!
NILS LYKKE.
What now?
NILS STENSSON.
The picture—! Sure ’tis I myself!
NILS LYKKE.
’Tis old Sten Sture, even as he lived and moved in his
youthful years.
NILS STENSSON.
Sten Sture!—And the likeness—? And—said you not I spoke the
truth, when I called myself a Count’s son? Was’t not so?
NILS LYKKE.
So it was.
NILS STENSSON.
Ah, I have it, I have it! I am——
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 that 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.
’Tis 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.
ACT FOURTH
_The Banquet Hall, as before, but without the supper-table._
BIÖRN, _the majordomo, enters carrying a lighted
branch-candlestick, and lighting in_ LADY INGER _and_
OLAF SKAKTAVL _by the second door on the left._ LADY
INGER _has a bundle of papers in her hand._
LADY INGER.
[_To_ BIÖRN.] And you are sure my daughter had speech with
the knight, here in the hall?
BIÖRN.
[_Putting down the branch-candlestick on the table on the
left_.] Sure as may be. I met her even as she stepped into
the passage.
LADY INGER.
And she seemed greatly moved? Said you not so?
BIÖRN.
She looked all pale and disturbed. I asked if she were sick;
she answered not, but said: “Go to my mother and tell her
the knight sets forth from here ere daybreak; if she have
letters or messages for him, beg her not to delay him
needlessly.” And then she added somewhat that I heard not
rightly.
LADY INGER.
Did you not hear it at all?
BIÖRN.
It sounded to me as though she said:—“Almost I fear he has
already tarried too long at Östråt.”
LADY INGER.
And the knight? Where is he?
BIÖRN.
In his chamber belike, in the gate-wing.
LADY INGER.
It is well. What I have to send by him is ready. Go to him
and say I await him here in the hall. [BIÖRN _goes out to
the right._
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Know you, Lady Inger,—’tis true that in such things I am
blind as a mole; yet seems it to me as though——h’m!
LADY INGER.
Well?
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
——as though Nils Lykke bore a mind to your daughter.
LADY INGER.
Then ’twould seem you are not so blind after all; for I am
the more deceived if you be not right. Marked you not at the
supper-board how eagerly he listened to the least word I let
fall concerning Elina?
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
He forgot both food and drink.
LADY INGER.
And our secret affairs as well.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Ay, and what is more—the papers from Peter Kanzler.
LADY INGER.
And from all this you conclude——?
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
From all this I chiefly conclude that, as you know Nils
Lykke and the name he bears, especially in all that touches
women——
LADY INGER.
——I should be right glad to know him outside my gates?
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Ay; and that as soon as may be.
LADY INGER.
[_Smiling._] Nay—the case is just the contrary, Olaf
Skaktavl!
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
How mean you?
LADY INGER.
If things be as we both think, Nils Lykke must in nowise
depart from Östråt yet awhile.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
[_Looks at her with disapproval._] Are you again embarked on
crooked courses, Lady Inger? What guile are you now
devising? Something that may increase your own power at the
cost of our——
LADY INGER.
Oh this blindness, that makes you all do me such wrong! I
see well you think I purpose to make Nils Lykke my
daughter’s husband. Were such a thought in my mind, why had
I refused to take part in what is afoot in Sweden, when Nils
Lykke and all the Danish crew seem willing to support it?
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Then if it be not your wish to win him and bind him to
you—what would you with him?
LADY INGER.
I will tell you in few words. In a letter to me, Nils Lykke
has spoken of the high fortune it were to be allied to our
house; and I do not say but, for a moment, I let myself
think of the matter.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Ay, see you!
LADY INGER.
To wed Nils Lykke to one of my house were doubtless a great
step toward stanching many discords in our land.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Meseems your daughter Merete’s marriage with Vinzents Lunge
might have taught you what comes of such a step. Scarce had
my lord gained firm footing among us, when he began to make
free with both our goods and our rights——
LADY INGER.
I know it even too well, Olaf Skaktavl! But times there be
when my thoughts are manifold and strange. I cannot impart
them fully either to you or to any one else. Often I know
not the right course to choose. And yet—a second time to
make a Danish lord my son-in-law,—nought but the uttermost
need could drive me to that resource; and heaven be
praised—things have not yet come to _that_!
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
I am no wiser than before, Lady Inger;—why would you keep
Nils Lykke at Östråt?
LADY INGER.
[_In a low voice._] Because I owe him an undying hate. Nils
Lykke has done me deadlier wrong than any other man. I
cannot tell you wherein it lies; but never shall I rest till
I am avenged on him. See you not now? Say that Nils Lykke
were to love my daughter—as meseems were like enough. I will
persuade him to tarry here; he shall learn to know Elina
well. She is both fair and wise.—Ah, if he should one day
come before me, with hot love in his heart, to beg for her
hand! Then—to chase him away like a dog; to drive him off
with jibes and scorn; to make it known over all the land
that Nils Lykke had come a-wooing to Östråt in vain—! I tell
you I would give ten years of my life but to see that day!
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
In faith and truth, Inger Gyldenlöve—is _this_ your purpose
towards him?
LADY INGER.
This and nought else, as sure as God lives! Trust me, Olaf
Skaktavl, I mean honestly by my countrymen; but I am in
nowise my own mistress. Things there be that must be kept
hidden, or ’twere my death-blow. But let me once be secure
on _that_ side, and you shall see if I have forgotten the
oath I swore by Knut Alfson’s bier.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
[_Shakes her by the hand._] Thanks for those words! I am
loath indeed to think evil of you.—Yet, touching your design
towards this knight, methinks ’tis a venturesome game you
would play. What if you had misreckoned? What if your
daughter—? ’Tis said no woman can stand against this subtle
devil.
LADY INGER.
My daughter? Think you that she—? Nay, have no fear of that;
I know Elina better. All she has heard of his renown has but
made her hate him the more. You saw with your own eyes——
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Ay, but—a woman’s mind is shifting ground to build on.
’Twere best you looked well before you.
LADY INGER.
That will I, be sure; I will watch them narrowly. But even
were he to succeed in luring her into his toils, I have but
to whisper two words in her ear, and——
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
What then?
LADY INGER.
——She will shrink from him as though he came straight from
the foul Tempter himself.
Hist, Olaf Skaktavl! Here he comes. Now be cautious.
[NILS LYKKE _enters by the foremost door on the right._
NILS LYKKE.
[_Approaches_ LADY INGER _courteously._] My noble hostess
has summoned me.
LADY INGER.
I have learned through my daughter that you are minded to
leave us to-night.
NILS LYKKE.
Even so, to my sorrow;—since my business at Östråt is over.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Not before I have the papers.
NILS LYKKE.
True, true. I had well-nigh forgot the weightiest part of my
errand. ’Twas the fault of our noble hostess. With such
gracious skill did she keep her guests in talk at table——
LADY INGER.
That you no longer remembered what had brought you hither? I
rejoice to hear it; for that was my design. Methought that
if my guest, Nils Lykke, were to feel at his ease in Östråt,
he must forget——
NILS LYKKE.
What, lady?
LADY INGER.
——First of all his errand—and then all that had gone before
it.
NILS LYKKE.
[_To_ OLAF SKAKTAVL, _as he takes out the packet and hands
it to him._] The papers from Peter Kanzler. You will find in
them a full account of our partizans in Sweden.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
It is well.
[_Sits down by the table on the left, where he opens
the packet and examines its contents._
NILS LYKKE.
And now, Lady Inger Gyldenlöve,—I know not that there is
aught else for me to do here.
LADY INGER.
Had it been things of state alone that brought us together,
you might be right. But I should be loath to think so.
NILS LYKKE.
You would say——?
LADY INGER.
I would say that ’twas not alone as a Danish Councillor or
as the ally of Peter Kanzler that Nils Lykke came to be my
guest.—Do I err in fancying that somewhat you may have heard
down in Denmark may have made you curious to know more of
the Lady of Östråt.
NILS LYKKE.
Far be it from me to deny——
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
[_Turning over the papers._] Strange. No letter.
NILS LYKKE.
——Lady Inger Gyldenlöve’s fame is all too widely spread that
I should not long have been eager to see her face to face.
LADY INGER.
So I thought. But what, then, is an hour’s jesting talk at
the supper-table? Let us try to sweep away all that has till
now lain between us; it may well come to pass that the Nils
Lykke I know may wipe out the grudge I bore the one I knew
not. Prolong your stay here but a few days, Sir Councillor!
I dare not persuade Olaf Skaktavl thereto, since his secret
charge in Sweden calls him hence. But as for you, doubtless
your sagacity has placed all things beforehand in such train
that your presence can scarce be needed. Trust me, your time
shall not pass tediously with us; at least you will find
both me and my daughter heartily disposed to do all in our
power to pleasure you.
NILS LYKKE.
I doubt neither your goodwill towards me nor your
daughter’s; of that I have had ample proof. And I trust you
will not doubt that my presence elsewhere must be vitally
needful, since, despite of all, I must declare my longer
stay at Östråt impossible.
LADY INGER.
Is it even so!—Know you, Sir Councillor, were I evilly
minded, I might fancy you had come to Östråt to try a fall
with me, and that, having lost, you cared not to linger on
the battlefield among the witnesses of your defeat.
NILS LYKKE.
[_Smiling._] There might be some show of reason for such a
reading of the case; but sure it is that as yet _I_ hold not
the battle lost.
LADY INGER.
However that may be, it might at any rate be retrieved, if
you would tarry some days with us. You see yourself, I am
still halting and wavering at the parting of the
ways,—persuading my redoubtable assailant not to quit the
field.—Well, to speak plainly, the thing is this: your
alliance with the disaffected in Sweden still seems to me
somewhat—how shall I call it?—somewhat miraculous, Sir
Councillor! I tell you this frankly, dear Sir! The thought
that has moved the King’s Council to this secret step is in
truth most politic; but ’tis strangely at variance with the
deeds of certain of your countrymen in bygone years. Be not
offended, then, if my trust in your fair promises needs to
be somewhat strengthened ere I can place my whole welfare in
your hands.
NILS LYKKE.
A longer stay at Östråt would scarce help towards that end;
since I purpose not to make any further effort to shake your
resolve.
LADY INGER.
Then must I pity you from my heart. Ay, Sir Councillor—’tis
true I stand here an unfriended widow; yet may you trust my
word when I foretell that this visit to Östråt will strew
your future path with thorns.
NILS LYKKE.
[_With a smile._] Is that your forecast, Lady Inger?
LADY INGER.
Truly it is! What can one say, dear Sir? ’Tis an age of
tattling tongues. Many a scurril knave will make jeering
rhymes at your expense. Ere half a year is out, you will be
all men’s fable; people will stop and gaze after you on the
high roads; ’twill be: “Look, look; there rides Sir Nils
Lykke, that fared north to Östråt to trap Inger Gyldenlöve,
and was caught in his own nets.”—Softly, softly, Sir Knight,
why so impatient! ’Tis not that _I_ think so; I do but
forecast the thoughts of the malicious and evil-minded; and
of them, alas! there are many.— Ay, ’tis shame; but so it
is—you will reap nought but mockery—mockery, because a woman
was craftier than you. “Like a cunning fox,” men will say,
“he crept into Östråt; like a beaten hound he slunk
away.”—And one thing more: think you not that Peter Kanzler
and his friends will forswear your alliance, when ’tis known
that _I_ venture not to fight under a standard borne by you?
NILS LYKKE.
You speak wisely, lady! Wherefore to secure me from
mockery—and not to endanger the alliance with all our dear
friends in Sweden—I must needs——
LADY INGER.
[_Hastily._] ——prolong your stay at Östråt.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
[_Who has been listening._] He is in the trap!
NILS LYKKE.
No, my noble lady;—I must needs bring you to terms within
this hour.
LADY INGER.
But what if you should fail?
NILS LYKKE.
I shall _not_ fail.
LADY INGER.
You lack not confidence, it seems.
NILS LYKKE.
What shall be the wager that you make not common cause with
myself and Peter Kanzler?
LADY INGER.
Östråt Castle against your knee-buckles!
NILS LYKKE.
[_Slaps his breast and cries:_] Olaf Skaktavl—here stands
the master of Östråt!
LADY INGER.
Sir Councillor——!
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
[_Rises from the table._] What now?
NILS LYKKE.
[_To_ LADY INGER.] I accept not the wager; for in a moment
you will gladly give Östråt Castle, and more to boot, to be
freed from the snare wherein not I but you are tangled.
LADY INGER.
Your jest, Sir, grows a vastly merry one.
NILS LYKKE.
’Twill be merrier yet—at least for me. You boast that you
have overreached me. You threaten to heap on me all men’s
scorn and mockery. Ah, beware that you stir not up my
vengefulness; for with two words I can bring you to your
knees at my feet.
LADY INGER.
Ha-ha——!
[_Stops suddenly, as if struck by a foreboding._
And these two words, Nils Lykke?—these two words——?
NILS LYKKE.
——The secret of Sten Sture’s son and yours.
LADY INGER.
[_With a shriek._] Oh, God in heaven——!
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Inger Gyldenlöve’s son! What say you?
LADY INGER.
[_Half kneeling to_ NILS LYKKE.] Mercy! oh, be merciful——!
NILS LYKKE.
[_Raises her up._] Collect yourself, and let us talk
together calmly.
LADY INGER.
[_In a low voice, as though bewildered._] Did you hear it,
Olaf Skaktavl? Or was it but a dream? Heard you what he
said?
NILS LYKKE.
It was no dream, Lady Inger!
LADY INGER.
[_Clasping her hands._] And you know it! You,—you!—Where is
he then? Where have you got him? What would you do with him?
[_Screams._] Do not kill him, Nils Lykke! Give him back to
me! Do not kill my child!
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Ah, I begin to understand——
LADY INGER.
And this fear—this torturing dread! Through all these weary
years it has been ever with me——and then all fails at last,
and I must bear this agony!—Oh Lord my God, is it right of
thee? Was it for this thou gavest him to me?
[_Controls herself and says with forced composure:_
Nils Lykke—tell me _one_ thing. Where have you got him?
Where is he?
NILS LYKKE.
With his foster-father.
LADY INGER.
Still with his foster-father. Oh, that merciless man—! For
ever to deny me—. But it _must_ not go on thus! Help me,
Olaf Skaktavl!
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
I?
NILS LYKKE.
There will be no need, if only you——
LADY INGER.
Hearken, Sir Councillor! What you know you shall know
thoroughly. And you too, my old and faithful friend!
Listen then. To-night you bade me call to mind that fatal
day when Knut Alfson was slain at Oslo. You bade me remember
the promise I made as I stood by his corpse amid the bravest
men in Norway. I was scarce full-grown then; but I felt
God’s strength in me, and methought, as many have thought
since, that the Lord himself had set his mark on me and
chosen me to fight in the forefront for my country’s cause.
Was it pride of heart? Or was it a calling from on high?
That I have never clearly known. But woe to whoso is charged
with a mighty task.
For seven years I fear not to say that I kept my promise
faithfully. I stood by my countrymen in all their sufferings
and their need. Playmates of mine, all over the land, were
wives and mothers now. I alone could give ear to no
wooer—not to one. That you know best, Olaf Skaktavl!
Then I saw Sten Sture for the first time. Fairer man had
never met my sight.
NILS LYKKE.
Ah, now it grows clear to me! Sten Sture was then in Norway
on a secret errand. We Danes were not to know that he wished
your friends well.
LADY INGER.
In the guise of a mean serving-man he lived a whole winter
under one roof with me.
That winter I thought less and less of the country’s
weal.——So fair a man had I never seen—and I had lived
well-nigh five-and-twenty years.
Next autumn Sten Sture came once more; and when he departed
again he took with him, in all secrecy, a little child.
’Twas not folk’s evil tongues I feared; but our cause would
have suffered had it got abroad that Sten Sture stood so
near to me.
The child was given to Peter Kanzler to rear. I waited for
better times, that were soon to come. They never came. Sten
Sture took a wife two years later in Sweden, and, when he
died, he left a widow——
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
——And with her a lawful heir to his name and rights.
LADY INGER.
Time after time I wrote to Peter Kanzler beseeching him to
give me back my child. But he was ever deaf to my prayers.
“Cast in your lot with us once for all,” he said, “and I
send your son back to Norway; not before.” But ’twas even
that I dared not do. We of the disaffected party were then
ill regarded by many timorous folk in the land. Had these
learnt how things stood—oh, I know it!—to cripple the mother
they had gladly meted to the child the fate that would have
been King Christiern’s had he not saved himself by
flight.[20]
But, besides that, the Danes, too, were active. They spared
neither threats nor promises to force me to join them.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
’Twas but reason. The eyes of all men were fixed on you as
on the vane that should show them how to shape their course.
LADY INGER.
Then came Herlof Hyttefad’s rising. Do you remember that
time, Olaf Skaktavl? Was it not as though a new spring had
dawned over the whole land! Mighty voices summoned me to
come forth;—yet I dared not. I stood doubting—far from the
strife—in my lonely castle. At times it seemed as though the
Lord God himself were calling me; but then would come the
killing dread again to benumb my will. “Who will
win?”—_that_ was the question that was ever ringing in my
ears.
’Twas but a short spring that had come to Norway. Herlof
Hyttefad, and many more with him, were broken on the wheel
during the months that followed. None could call me to
account; yet there lacked not covert threats from Denmark.
What if they knew the secret? At last methought they _must_
know; I knew not how else to understand their words.
’Twas even in that time of agony that Gyldenlöve, the High
Steward, came hither and sought me in marriage. Let any
mother anguished for her child think herself in my place!—A
month after, I was the High Steward’s wife—and homeless in
the hearts of my countrymen.
Then came the quiet years. No one raised his head any more.
Our masters might grind us down even as heavily as they
listed. There were times when I loathed myself; for what had
I to do? Nought but to endure terror and scorn and bring
forth daughters into the world. My daughters! God must
forgive me if I have had no mother’s heart towards them. My
wifely duties were as serfdom to me; how then could I love
my daughters? Oh, how different with my son! _He_ was the
child of my very soul. He was the one thing that brought to
mind the time when I was a woman and nought but a woman.—And
him they had taken from me! He was growing up among
strangers, who might, mayhap, be sowing in him the seed of
corruption! Olaf Skaktavl—had I wandered, like you, on the
lonely hills, hunted and forsaken, in winter and storm—if I
had but held my child in my arms,—trust me, I had not
sorrowed and wept so sore as I have sorrowed and wept for
him from his birth even to this hour!
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
There is my hand. I have judged you too hardly, Lady Inger!
Command me even as before; I will obey.—Ay, by all the
saints, I know what it is to sorrow for a child.
LADY INGER.
Yours was slain by men of blood. But what is death to the
restless terror of all these long years?
NILS LYKKE.
Mark, then—’tis in your power to end this terror. You have
but to make peace between the jarring factions, and neither
will think of seizing on your child as a pledge of your
faith.
LADY INGER.
[_To herself._] This is the vengeance of Heaven. [_Looks at
him._] In one word, what do you demand?
NILS LYKKE.
I demand first that you shall call the people of the
northern districts to arms, in support of the disaffected in
Sweden.
LADY INGER.
And next——?
NILS LYKKE.
——that you do your best to advance young Count Sture’s
ancestral claim to the throne of Sweden.
LADY INGER.
His? You demand that I——
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
[_Softly._] It is the wish of many Swedes, and ’twould serve
our turn too.
NILS LYKKE.
You hesitate, lady? You tremble for your son’s safety. What
better can you wish than to see his half-brother on the
throne?
LADY INGER.
[_In thought._] True—true——
NILS LYKKE.
[_Looks at her sharply._] Unless there be other plans
afoot——
LADY INGER.
What mean you?
NILS LYKKE.
Inger Gyldenlöve might have a mind to be—a king’s mother.
LADY INGER.
No, no! Give me back my child, and let who will have the
crowns.
But know you so surely that Count Sture is willing——?
NILS LYKKE.
Of that he will himself assure you.
LADY INGER.
Himself? And when?
NILS LYKKE.
Even now.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
How now?
LADY INGER.
What say you?
NILS LYKKE.
In one word, Count Sture is in Östråt.
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
Here?
NILS LYKKE.
[_To_ Lady Inger.] You have doubtless heard that another
rode through the gate along with me? The Count was my
attendant.
LADY INGER.
[_Softly._] I am in his power. I have no longer any choice.
[_Looks at him and says:_
’Tis well, Sir Councillor—you shall have full assurance of
my support.
NILS LYKKE.
In writing?
LADY INGER.
As you will.
[_Goes to the table on the left, sits down, and
takes writing materials from the drawer._
NILS LYKKE.
[_Aside, standing by the table on the right._] At last,
then, I win!
LADY INGER.
[_After a moment’s thought, turns suddenly in her chair to_
OLAF SKAKTAVL _and whispers._] Olaf Skaktavl—I am certain of
it now—Nils Lykke is a traitor!
OLAF SKAKTAVL.
[_Softly._] What? You think——?
LADY INGER.
He has treachery in his heart.