Chapter III: Part 3

Were I timorous, I might well find myself fancying that when
I set foot within Östråt gate she turned about in her
coffin; as I crossed the courtyard she lifted the lid; and
when I named her name but now, ’twas as though a voice
summoned her forth from the grave-vault.—Maybe she is even
now groping her way up the stairs. The face-cloth blinds
her, but she gropes on and on in spite of it.

Now she has reached the Banquet Hall! She stands watching me
from behind the door!

[_Turns his head backwards over one shoulder, nods,
and says aloud:_

Come nearer, Lucia! Talk to me a little! Your mother keeps
me waiting. ’Tis tedious waiting—and you have helped me to
while away many a tedious hour——

[_Passes his hand over his forehead, and takes one
or two turns up and down._

Ah, there!—Right, right; there is the deep curtained window.
’Tis there that Inger Gyldenlöve is wont to stand gazing out
over the road, as though looking for one that never comes.
In there—[_looks towards the door on the left_]—somewhere in
there is Sister Elina’s chamber. Elina? Ay, Elina is her
name.

Can it be that she is so rare a being—so wise and so brave
as Lucia fancied her? Fair, too, they say. But for a wedded
wife—? I should not have written so plainly.——

[_Lost in thought, he is on the point of sitting
down by the table, but stands up again._

How will Lady Inger receive me?—She will scarce burn the
castle over our heads, or slip me through a trap-door. A
stab from behind—? No, not that way either——

[_Listens towards the hall._

Aha!

[LADY INGER GYLDENLÖVE _enters from the hall._

LADY INGER.

[_Coldly._] My greeting to you, Sir Councillor——

NILS LYKKE.

[_Bows deeply._] Ah—the Lady of Östråt!

LADY INGER.

——and my thanks that you have forewarned me of your visit.

NILS LYKKE.

I could do no less. I had reason to think that my coming
might surprise you——

LADY INGER.

Truly, Sir Councillor, therein you judged aright. Nils Lykke
was indeed the last guest I looked to see at Östråt.

NILS LYKKE.

And still less, mayhap, did you think to see him come as a
friend?

LADY INGER.

As a friend? You add mockery to all the shame and sorrow you
have heaped upon my house? After bringing my child to the
grave, you still dare——

NILS LYKKE.

With your leave, Lady Inger Gyldenlöve—on that matter we
should scarce agree; for you count as nothing what _I_ lost
by that same unhappy chance. I purposed nought but in
honour. I was tired of my unbridled life; my thirtieth year
was already past; I longed to mate me with a good and gentle
wife. Add to all this the hope of becoming your son-in-law——

LADY INGER.

Beware, Sir Councillor! I have done all in my power to hide
my child’s unhappy fate. But because it is out of sight,
think not it is out of mind. There may yet come a time——

NILS LYKKE.

You threaten me, Lady Inger? I have offered you my hand in
amity; you refuse to take it. Henceforth, then, it is to be
open war between us?

LADY INGER.

I knew not there had ever been aught else?

NILS LYKKE.

Not on _your_ side, mayhap. _I_ have never been your
enemy,—though, as a subject of the King of Denmark, I lacked
not good cause.

LADY INGER.

I understand you. I have not been pliant enough. It has not
proved so easy as some of you hoped to lure me over into
your camp.—Yet methinks you have nought to complain of. My
daughter Merete’s husband is your countryman—further I
cannot go. My position is no easy one, Nils Lykke!

NILS LYKKE.

That I can well believe. Both nobles and people here in
Norway think they have an ancient claim on you—a claim, ’tis
said, you have but half fulfilled.

LADY INGER.

Your pardon, Sir Councillor,—I account for my doings to none
but God and myself. If it please you, then, let me
understand what brings you hither.

NILS LYKKE.

Gladly, Lady Inger! The purpose of my mission to this
country can scarce be unknown to you——?

LADY INGER.

I know the mission that report assigns you. Our King would
fain know how the Norwegian nobles stand affected towards
him.

NILS LYKKE.

Assuredly.

LADY INGER.

Then that is why you visit Östråt?

NILS LYKKE.

In part. But it is far from my purpose to demand any
profession of loyalty from you——

LADY INGER.

What then?

NILS LYKKE.

Hearken to me, Lady Inger! You said yourself but now that
your position is no easy one. You stand half way between two
hostile camps, whereof neither dares trust you fully. Your
own interest must needs bind you to _us_. On the other hand,
you are bound to the disaffected by the bond of nationality,
and—who knows?—mayhap by some secret tie as well.

LADY INGER.

[_To herself._] A secret tie! Oh God, can he——?

NILS LYKKE.

[_Notices her emotion, but makes no sign, and continues
without change of manner._] You cannot but see that such a
position must ere long become impossible.—Suppose, now, it
lay in my power to free you from these embarrassments
which——

LADY INGER.

In your power, you say?

NILS LYKKE.

First of all, Lady Inger, I would beg you to lay no stress
on any careless words I may have used concerning that which
lies between us two. Think not that I have forgotten for a
moment the wrong I have done you. Suppose, now, I had long
purposed to make atonement, as far as might be, where I had
sinned. Suppose it were for that reason I had contrived to
have this mission assigned me.

LADY INGER.

Speak your meaning more clearly, Sir Councillor;—I cannot
follow you.

NILS LYKKE.

I can scarce be mistaken in thinking that you, as well as I,
know of the threatened troubles in Sweden. You know, or at
least you can guess, that this rising is of far wider aim
than is commonly supposed, and you understand therefore that
our King cannot look on quietly and let things take their
course. Am I not right?

LADY INGER.

Go on.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Searchingly, after a short pause._] There is _one_
possible chance that might endanger Gustav Vasa’s throne——

LADY INGER.

[_To herself._] Whither is he tending?

NILS LYKKE.

——the chance, namely, that there should exist in Sweden a
man entitled by his birth to claim election to the kingship.

LADY INGER.

[_Evasively._] The Swedish nobles have been even as bloodily
hewn down as our own, Sir Councillor. Where would you seek
for——?

NILS LYKKE.

[_With a smile._] Seek? The man is found already——

LADY INGER.

[_Starts violently._] Ah! He is found?

NILS LYKKE.

——and he is too closely akin to you, Lady Inger, to be far
from your thoughts at this moment. [_Looks fixedly at her._

The last Count Sture left a son——

LADY INGER.

[_With a cry._] Holy Saviour, how know you——?

NILS LYKKE.

[_Surprised._] Be calm, Madam, and let me finish.—This young
man has till now lived quietly with his mother, Sten Sture’s
widow.

LADY INGER.

[_Breathes more freely._] With—? Ah, yes—true, true!

NILS LYKKE.

But now he has come forward openly. He has shown himself in
the Dales as leader of the peasants; their numbers are
growing day by day; and—as mayhap you know—they are finding
friends among the peasants on this side of the border-hills.

LADY INGER.

[_Who has in the meantime regained her composure._]

Sir Councillor,—you speak of all these matters as though
they must of necessity be known to me. What ground have I
given you to believe so? I know, and wish to know, nothing.
All my care is to live quietly within my own domain; I give
no countenance to disturbers of the peace; but neither must
you reckon on me if it be your purpose to suppress them.

NILS LYKKE.

[_In a low voice._] Would you still be inactive, were it my
purpose to come to their aid?

LADY INGER.

How am I to understand you?

NILS LYKKE.

Have you not seen, then, whither I have been aiming all this
time?—Well, I will tell you all, frankly and openly. Know,
then, that the King and his Council see clearly that we can
have no sure footing in Norway so long as the nobles and the
people continue, as now, to think themselves wronged and
oppressed. We understand to the full that willing allies are
better than sullen subjects; and we have therefore no
heartier wish than to loosen the bonds that hamper us, in
effect, even as straitly as you. But you will scarce deny
that the temper of Norway towards us makes such a step too
dangerous—so long as we have no sure support behind us.

LADY INGER.

And this support——?

NILS LYKKE.

Should naturally come from Sweden. But, mark well, not so
long as Gustav Vasa holds the helm; his reckoning with
Denmark is not yet settled, and mayhap never will be. But a
new king of Sweden, who had the people with him, and who
owed his throne to the help of Denmark——. Well, you begin to
understand me? _Then_ we could safely say to you Norwegians:
“Take back your old ancestral rights; choose you a ruler
after your own mind; be our friends in need, as we will be
yours!”—Mark you well, Lady Inger, herein is our generosity
less than it may seem; for you must see that, far from
weakening, ’twill rather strengthen us.

And now that I have opened my heart to you so fully,
do you too cast away all mistrust. And therefore
[_confidently_]—the knight from Sweden, who came
hither an hour before me——

LADY INGER.

Then you already know of his coming?

NILS LYKKE.

Most certainly. ’Tis he whom I seek.

LADY INGER.

[_To herself._] Strange! Then it must be as Olaf Skaktavl
said. [_To_ NILS LYKKE.] I pray you wait here, Sir
Councillor! I will go bring him to you.

[_Goes out through the Banquet Hall._

NILS LYKKE.

[_Looks after her a while in exultant astonishment._] She is
bringing him! Ay, truly—she is bringing him! The battle is
half won. I little thought it would go so smoothly.—

She is deep in the counsels of the rebels; she started in
terror when I named Sten Sture’s son.—

And now? H’m! Since Lady Inger has been simple enough to
walk into the snare, Nils Sture will not make many
difficulties. A hot-blooded boy, thoughtless and rash——.
With my promise of help he will set forth at once—unhappily
Jens Bielke will snap him up by the way—and the whole rising
will be nipped in the bud.

And then? Then one further point to our advantage. It is
spread abroad that the young Count Sture has been at
Östråt,—that a Danish envoy has had audience of Lady
Inger—that thereupon the young Count Nils has been snapped
up by King Gustav’s men-at-arms a mile from the castle.——Let
Inger Gyldenlöve’s name among the people stand never so
high—’twill scarce recover from such a blow. [_Starts up in
sudden uneasiness._

By all the devils—! What if she has scented mischief! It may
be he is even now slipping through our fingers—[_Listens
towards the hall, and says with relief._] Ah, there is no
fear. Here they come.

[LADY INGER GYLDENLÖVE _enters from the hall,
accompanied by_ OLAF SKAKTAVI.

LADY INGER.

[_To_ NILS LYKKE.] Here is the man you seek.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Aside._] Powers of hell—what means this?

LADY INGER.

I have told this knight your name and all that you have
imparted to me——

NILS LYKKE.

[_Irresolutely._] Ay? Have you so? Well——

LADY INGER.

——and I will not hide from you that his faith in your help
is none of the strongest.

NILS LYKKE.

Is it not?

LADY INGER.

Can you marvel at that? Surely you know both his way of
thinking and his bitter fate——

NILS LYKKE.

This man’s—? Ah—yes, truly——

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

[_To_ NILS LYKKE.] But seeing ’tis Peter Kanzler himself
that has appointed us this meeting——

NILS LYKKE.

Peter Kanzler—? [_Recovers himself quickly._] Ay, right,—I
have a mission from Peter Kanzler——

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

He must know best whom he can trust. So why should I trouble
my head with pondering how——

NILS LYKKE.

Ay, you are right, noble Sir; why waste time over that?

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

Rather let us come straight to the matter.

NILS LYKKE.

Straight to the point; no beating about the bush—’tis ever
my fashion.

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

Then will you tell me your errand here?

NILS LYKKE.

Methinks you can partly guess my errand——

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

Peter Kanzler said something of papers that——

NILS LYKKE.

Papers? Ay, true, the papers!

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

Doubtless you have them with you?

NILS LYKKE.

Of course; safely bestowed; so safely that I cannot at
once——

[_Appears to search the inner pockets of his
doublet; says to himself:_

Who the devil is he? What pretext can I make? I may be on
the brink of great discoveries——

[_Notices that the_ SERVANTS _are laying the table
and lighting the lamps in the Banquet Hall, and
says to_ OLAF SKAKTAVL:

Ah, I see Lady Inger has taken order for the evening meal.
Mayhap we could better talk of our affairs at table.

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

Good; as you will.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Aside._] Time gained—all gained!

[_To_ LADY INGER _with a show of great
friendliness:_

And meanwhile we might learn what part Lady Inger Gyldenlöve
purposes to take in our design?

LADY INGER.

I?—None.

NILS LYKKE AND OLAF SKAKTAVL.

None!

LADY INGER.

Can ye marvel, noble Sirs, that I venture not on a game
wherein loss would mean loss of all? And that, too, when
none of my allies dare trust me fully.

NILS LYKKE.

That reproach touches not me. I trust you blindly; I pray
you be assured of that.

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

Who should believe in you, if not your countrymen?

LADY INGER.

Truly,—this confidence rejoices me.

[_Goes to a cupboard in the back wall and fills two
goblets with wine._

NILS LYKKE.

[_Aside._] Curse her, will she slip out of the noose?

LADY INGER.

[_Hands a goblet to each._] And since so it is, I offer you
a cup of welcome to Östråt. Drink, noble knights! Pledge me
to the last drop!

[_Looks from one to the other after they have drunk,
and says gravely_:

But now I must tell you—one goblet held a welcome for my
friend; the other—death for my enemy!

NILS LYKKE.

[_Throws down the goblet._] Ah, I am poisoned!

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

[_At the same time, clutches his sword._] Death and hell,
have you murdered me?

LADY INGER.

[_To_ OLAF SKAKTAVL, _pointing to_ NILS LYKKE.] You see the
Danes’ confidence in Inger Gyldenlöve——

[_To_ NILS LYKKE, _pointing to_ OLAF SKAKTAVL.] ——and
likewise my countrymen’s faith in me! [_To both of them._

Yet you would have me place myself in your power? Gently,
noble Sirs—gently! The Lady of Östråt is not yet in her
dotage.

[ELINA GYLDENLÖVE _enters by the door on the left._

ELINA.

I heard loud voices—. What is amiss?

LADY INGER.

[_To_ NILS LYKKE.] My daughter Elina.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Softly._] Elina! I had not pictured her thus.

[ELINA _catches sight of_ NILS LYKKE, _and stands
still, as in surprise, gazing at him._

LADY INGER.

[_Touches her arm._] My child—this knight is——

ELINA.

[_Motions her mother back with her hand, still looking
intently at him, and says:_] There is no need! I see who he
is. He is Nils Lykke.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Aside, to_ LADY INGER.] How? Does she know me? Can Lucia
have—? Can she know——?

LADY INGER.

Hush! She knows nothing.

ELINA.

[_To herself._] I knew it;—even so must Nils Lykke appear.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Approaches her._] Yes, Elina Gyldenlöve,—you have guessed
aright. And as it seems that, in some sense, you know
me,—and, moreover, as I am your mother’s guest,——you will
not deny me the flower-spray you wear in your bosom. So long
as it is fresh and fragrant, I shall have in it an image of
yourself.

ELINA.

[_Proudly, but still gazing at him._] Pardon me, Sir
Knight——’twas plucked in my own chamber, and _there_ can
grow no flower for you.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Loosening a spray of flowers that he wears in the front of
his doublet._] At least you will not disdain this humble
gift. ’Twas a farewell token from a courtly dame when I set
forth from Trondhiem this morning.——But mark me, noble
maiden,——were I to offer you a gift that were fully worthy
of you, it could be nought less than a princely crown.

ELINA.

[_Who has taken the flowers passively._] And were it the
royal crown of Denmark you held forth to me——before I shared
it with _you_, I would crush it to pieces between my hands,
and cast the fragments at your feet!

[_Throws down the flowers at his feet, and goes into
the Banquet Hall._

OLAF SKAKTAVL.

[_Mutters to himself._] Bold——as Inger Ottisdaughter by Knut
Alfson’s bier!

LADY INGER.

[_Softly, after looking alternately at_ ELINA _and_ NILS
LYKKE.] The wolf _can_ be tamed. Now to forge the fetters.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Picks up the flowers and gazes in rapture after_ ELINA.]
God’s holy blood, but she is proud and fair!

-----

ACT THIRD

_The Banquet Hall. A high bow-window in the background; a
smaller window in front on the left. Several doors on
each side. The ceiling is supported by massive wooden
pillars, on which, as well as on the walls, are hung all
sorts of weapons. Pictures of saints, knights, and
ladies hang in long rows. Pendent from the ceiling a
large many-branched lamp, alight. In front, on the
right, an ancient carven high-seat. In the middle of the
hall, a table with the remnants of the evening meal._

ELINA GYLDENLÖVE _enters from the left, slowly and in deep
thought. Her expression shows that she is going over
again in her mind the scene with_ NILS LYKKE. _At last
she repeats the motion with which she flung away the
flowers, and says in a low voice:_

ELINA.

——And then he gathered up the fragments of the crown of
Denmark—no, ’twas the flowers—and: “God’s holy blood, but
she is proud and fair!”

Had he whispered the words in the most secret spot, long
leagues from Östråt,—still had I heard them!

How I hate him! How I have always hated him,—this Nils
Lykke!—There lives not another man like him, ’tis said. He
plays with women—and treads them under his feet.

And ’twas to _him_ my mother thought to offer me!—How I hate
him!

They say Nils Lykke is unlike all other men. It is not true!
There is nothing strange in him. There are many, many like
him! When Biörn used to tell me his tales, all the princes
looked as Nils Lykke looks. When I sat lonely here in the
hall and dreamed my histories, and my knights came and
went,—they were one and all even as he.

How strange and how good it is to hate! Never have I known
how sweet it can be—till to-night. Ah—not to live a thousand
years would I sell the moments I have lived since I saw
him!—

“God’s holy blood, but she is proud——”

[_Goes slowly towards the back, opens the window and
looks out._ NILS LYKKE _comes in by the first
door on the right._

NILS LYKKE.

[_To himself._] “Sleep well at Östråt, Sir Knight,” said
Inger Gyldenlöve as she left me. Sleep well? Ay, ’tis easily
said, but——Out there, sky and sea in tumult; below, in the
grave-vault, a young girl on her bier; the fate of two
kingdoms in my hand;—and in my breast a withered flower that
a woman has flung at my feet. Truly, I fear me sleep will be
slow of coming.

[_Notices_ ELINA, _who has left the window, and is
going out on the left._

There she is. Her haughty eyes seem veiled with thought.—Ah,
if I but dared—. [_Aloud._] Mistress Elina!

ELINA.

[_Stops at the door._] What will you? Why do you pursue me?

NILS LYKKE.

You err; I pursue you not$1 $2am myself pursued.

ELINA.

You?

NILS LYKKE.

By a multitude of thoughts. Therefore ’tis with sleep as
with you:—it flees me.

ELINA.

Go to the window, and there you will find pastime;—a
storm-tossed sea——

NILS LYKKE.

[_Smiles._] A storm-tossed sea? That may I find in you as
well.

ELINA.

In me?

NILS LYKKE.

Ay, of that our first meeting has assured me.

ELINA.

And that offends you?

NILS LYKKE.

Nay, in nowise; yet I could wish to see you of milder mood.

ELINA.

[_Proudly._] Think you that you will ever have your wish?

NILS LYKKE.

I am sure of it. I have a welcome word to say to you.

ELINA.

What is it?

NILS LYKKE.

Farewell.

ELINA.

[_Comes a step nearer him._] Farewell? You are leaving
Östråt—so soon?

NILS LYKKE.

This very night.

ELINA..

[_Seems to hesitate for a moment; then says coldly._] Then
take my greeting, Sir Knight!

[_Bows and is about to go._

NILS LYKKE.

Elina Gyldenlöve,—I have no right to keep you here; but
’twill be unlike your nobleness if you refuse to hear what I
have to say to you.

ELINA.

I hear you, Sir Knight.

NILS LYKKE.

I know you hate me.

ELINA.

You are keen-sighted, I perceive.

NILS LYKKE.

But I know, too, that I have fully merited your hate.
Unseemly and wounding were the words I wrote of you in my
letter to Lady Inger.

ELINA.

Like enough; I have not read them.

NILS LYKKE.

But at least their purport is not unknown to you; I know
your mother has not left you in ignorance of the matter; at
the least she has told you how I praised the lot of the man
who—; surely you know the hope I nursed—

ELINA.

Sir Knight—if ’tis of that you would speak—

NILS LYKKE.

I speak of it, only to ask pardon for my words; for no other
reason, I swear to you. If my fame—as I have too much cause
to fear—has gone before me to Östråt, you must needs know
enough of my life not to wonder that in such things I should
go to work something boldly. I have met many women, Elina
Gyldenlöve; but not one have I found unyielding. Such
lessons, look you, teach a man to be secure. He loses the
habit of roundabout ways——

ELINA.

May be so. I know not of what metal those women can have
been made.

For the rest, you err in thinking ’twas your letter to my
mother that aroused my soul’s hatred and bitterness against
you. It is of older date.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Uneasily._] Of older date? What mean you?

ELINA.

’Tis as you guessed:—your fame has gone before you, to
Östråt, even as over all the land. Nils Lykke’s name is
never spoken save with the name of some woman whom he has
beguiled and cast off. Some speak it in wrath, others with
laughter and wanton jeering at those weak-souled creatures.
But through the wrath and the laughter and the jeers rings
the song they have made of you, full of insolent challenge,
like an enemy’s song of triumph.

’Tis all this together that has begotten my hate for you.
You were ever in my thoughts, and ever I longed to meet you
face to face, that you might learn that there are women on
whom your subtle speeches are lost—if you should think to
use them.

NILS LYKKE.

You judge me unjustly, if you judge from what rumour has
told of me. Even if there be truth in all you have
heard,—you know not the causes behind it.—As a boy of
seventeen I began my course of pleasure. I have lived full
fifteen years since then. Light women granted me all that I
would—even before the wish had shaped itself into a prayer;
and what I offered them they seized with eager hands. You
are the first woman that has flung back a gift of mine with
scorn at my feet.

Think not I reproach you. Rather I honour you for it, as
never before have I honoured woman. But for this I reproach
my fate—and the thought is a gnawing pain to me—that you and
I were not sooner brought face to face.——Elina Gyldenlöve!
Your mother has told me of you. While far from Östråt life
ran its restless course, you went your lonely way in
silence, living in your dreams and histories. Therefore you
will understand what I have to tell you.—Know, then, that
once I too lived even such a life as yours. Methought that
when I stepped forth into the great world, a noble and
stately woman would come to meet me, and would beckon to me
and point out the path towards a glorious goal.—I was
deceived, Elina Gyldenlöve! Women came to meet me; but _she_
was not among them. Ere yet I had come to full manhood, I
had learnt to despise them all.

Was it my fault? Why were not the others even as you?—I know
the fate of your fatherland lies heavy on your soul; and you
know the part I have in these affairs——. ’Tis said of me
that I am false as the sea-foam. Mayhap I am; but if I be,
it is women who have made me so. Had I sooner found what I
sought,—had I met a woman proud and noble and high-souled
even as you, then had my path been different indeed. At this
moment, maybe, I had been standing at your side as the
champion of all that suffer wrong in Norway’s land. For
_this_ I believe: a woman is the mightiest power in the
world, and in her hand it lies to guide a man whither God
Almighty would have him go.

ELINA.

[_To herself._] Can it be as he says? Nay, nay; there is
falsehood in his eyes and deceit on his lips. And yet—no
song is sweeter than his words.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Coming closer, speaks low and more intimately._] As you
have dwelt here at Östråt, alone with your changeful
thoughts, how often have you felt your bosom stifling; how
often have the roof and walls seemed to shrink together till
they crushed your very soul. Then have your longings taken
wing with you; then have you yearned to fly far from here,
you knew not whither.—How often have you not wandered alone
by the fiord; far out a ship has sailed by in fair array,
with knights and ladies on her deck, with song and music of
stringed instruments;—a faint, far-off rumour of great
events has reached your ears;—and you have felt a longing in
your breast, an unconquerable craving to know all that lies
beyond the sea. But you have not understood what ailed you.
At times you have thought it was the fate of your fatherland
that filled you with all these restless broodings. You
deceived yourself;—a maiden so young as you has other food
for musing.——Elina Gyldenlöve! Have you never had visions of
an unknown power—a strong mysterious might, that binds
together the destinies of mortals? When you dreamed of the
many-coloured life far out in the wide world—when you
dreamed of knightly jousts and joyous festivals—saw you
never in your dreams a knight, who stood in the midst of the
gayest rout, with a smile on his lips and with bitterness in
his heart,—a knight that had once dreamed a dream as fair as
yours, of a woman noble and stately, for whom he went ever
a-seeking, and ever in vain?

ELINA.

Who are you, that have power to clothe my most secret
thoughts in words? How can you tell me what I have borne in
my inmost soul—yet knew it not myself? How know you——?

NILS LYKKE.

All that I have told you, I have read in your eyes.

ELINA.

Never has any man spoken to me as you have spoken. I have
understood you but dimly; and yet—all, all seems changed
since——

[_To herself._] Now I understand why they said that Nils
Lykke was unlike all others.

NILS LYKKE.

There is one thing in the world that might drive a man to
madness, but to think of it; and that is the thought of what
might have been, had things but fallen out in this way or
that. Had I met you on my path while the tree of my life was
yet green and budding, at this hour, mayhap, you had been——

But forgive me, noble lady! Our speech of these past few
moments has made me forget how we stand one to another.
’Twas as though a secret voice had told me from the first
that to you I could speak openly, without flattery or
dissimulation.

ELINA.

That can you.

NILS LYKKE.

’Tis well;—and it may be that this openness has already in
part reconciled us. Ay—my hope is yet bolder. The time may
yet come when you will think of the stranger knight without
hate or bitterness in your soul. Nay,—mistake me not! I mean
not _now_—but some time, in the days to come. And that this
may be the less hard for you—and as I have begun once for
all to speak to you plainly and openly —let me tell you——

ELINA.

Sir Knight——!

NILS LYKKE.

[_Smiling._] Ah, I see the thought of my letter still
affrights you. Fear nought on that score. I would from my
heart it were unwritten, for—I know ’twill concern you
little enough, so I may even say it right out—for I love you
not, and shall never come to love you. Fear nothing,
therefore, as I said before; I shall in nowise seek to——

But what ails you——?

ELINA.

Me? Nothing, nothing.—Tell me but one thing: why do you
still wear those flowers? What would you with them?

NILS LYKKE.

These? Are they not a gage of battle you have thrown down to
the wicked Nils Lykke, on behalf of all womankind? What
could I do but take it up?

You asked what I would with them? [_Softly._] When I stand
again amid the fair ladies of Denmark—when the music of the
strings is hushed and there is silence in the hall—then will
I bring forth these flowers and tell a tale of a young
maiden sitting alone in a gloomy black-beamed hall, far to
the north in Norway—— [_Breaks off and bows respectfully._

But I fear I detain the noble daughter of the house too
long. We shall meet no more; for before daybreak I shall be
gone. So now I bid you farewell.

ELINA.

Fare you well, Sir Knight! [_A short silence._

NILS LYKKE.

Again you are deep in thought, Elina Gyldenlöve! Is it the
fate of your fatherland that weighs upon you still?

ELINA.

[_Shakes her head, absently gazing straight in front of
her._] My fatherland?—I think not of my fatherland.

NILS LYKKE.

Then ’tis the strife and misery of the time that disquiets
you.

ELINA.

The time? I had forgotten it——You go to Denmark? Said you
not so

NILS LYKKE.

I go to Denmark.

ELINA.

Can I look towards Denmark from this hall?

NILS LYKKE.

[_Points to the window on the left._] Ay, from this window.
Denmark lies there, to the south.

ELINA.

And is it far from here? More than a hundred leagues?

NILS LYKKE.

Much more. The sea lies between you and Denmark.

ELINA.

[_To herself._] The sea? Thought has seagulls’ wings. The
sea cannot stay it.

[_Goes out to the left._

NILS LYKKE.

[_Looks after her awhile; then says:_] If I could but spare
two days now—or even one—I would have her in my power, even
as the others.

And yet is there rare stuff in this maiden. She is proud.
Might I not after all——? No; rather humble her——

[_Paces the room._

Verily, I believe she has set my blood afire. Who would have
thought it possible after all these years?—Enough of this! I
must get out of the tangle I have here thrust myself into.

[_Sits in a chair on the right._

What is the meaning of it? Both Olaf Skaktavl and Inger
Gyldenlöve seem blind to the mistrust ’twill waken, when
’tis rumoured that I am in their league.—Or can Lady Inger
have seen through my purpose? Can she have seen that all my
promises were but designed to lure Nils Sture forth from his
hiding-place?

[_Springs up._

Damnation! Is it I that have been fooled? ’Tis like enough
that Count Sture is not at Östråt at all. It may be the
rumour of his flight was but a feint. He may be safe and
sound among his friends in Sweden, while I——

[_Walks restlessly up and down._

And to think I was so sure of success! If I should effect
nothing? If Lady Inger should penetrate all my designs—and
publish my discomfiture—-. To be a laughing-stock both
here and in Denmark! To have sought to lure Lady Inger
into a trap—and given her cause the help it most
needed—strengthened her in the people’s favour——! Ah, I
could well-nigh sell myself to the Evil One, would he but
help me to lay hands on Count Sture.

[_The window in the background is pushed open._ NILS
STENSSON _appears outside._

NILS LYKKE.

[_Clutches at his sword._] Who is there?

NILS STENSSON.

[_Jumps down on to the floor._] Ah; here I am at last then!

NILS LYKKE.

[_Aside._] What means this?

NILS STENSSON.

God’s peace, master!

NILS LYKKE.

Thanks, good Sir! Methinks you have chosen a strange way of
entrance.

NILS STENSSON.

Ay, what the devil was I to do? The gate was shut. Folk must
sleep in this house like bears at Yuletide.

NILS LYKKE.

God be thanked! Know you not that a good conscience is the
best pillow?

NILS STENSSON.

Ay, it must be even so; for with all my rattling and
thundering, I——

NILS LYKKE.

——You won not in?

NILS STENSSON.

You have hit it. So I said to myself: As you are bidden to
be in Östråt to-night, if you have to go through fire and
water, you may surely make free to creep through a window.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Aside._] Ah, if it should be——!

[_Moves a step or two nearer._

Was it, then, of the last necessity that you should reach
Östråt to-night?

NILS STENSSON.

Was it? Ay, faith but it was. I love not to keep folk
waiting, I can tell you.

NILS LYKKE.

Aha,—then Lady Inger Gyldenlöve looks for your coming?

NILS STENSSON.

Lady Inger Gyldenlöve? Nay, that I can scarce say for
certain; [_with a sly smile_] but there might be some one
else——

NILS LYKKE.

[_Smiles in answer._] Ah, so there might be some one else—?

NILS STENSSON.

Tell me—are you of the house?

NILS LYKKE.

I? Well, in so far that I am Lady Inger’s guest this
evening.

NILS STENSSON.

A guest?—Is not to-night the third night after Martinmas?

NILS LYKKE.

The third night after—? Ay, right enough.—Would you seek the
lady of the house at once? I think she is not yet gone to
rest. But might not _you_ sit down and rest awhile, dear
young Sir? See, here is yet a flagon of wine remaining, and
doubtless you will find some food. Come, fall to; you will
do wisely to refresh your strength.

NILS STENSSON.

You are right, Sir; ’twere not amiss.

[_Sits down by the table and eats and drinks._

Both roast meat and sweet cakes! Why, you live like lords
here! When one has slept, as I have, on the naked ground,
and lived on bread and water for four or five days——

NILS LYKKE.

[_Looks at him with a smile._] Ay, such a life must be hard
for one that is wont to sit at the high-table in noble
halls——

NILS STENSSON.

Noble halls——?

NILS LYKKE.

But now can you take your ease at Östråt, as long as it
likes you.

NILS STENSSON.

[_Pleased._] Ay? Can I truly? Then I am not to begone again
so soon?

NILS LYKKE.

Nay, that I know not. Sure you yourself can best say that.

NILS STENSSON.

[_Softly._] Oh, the devil! [_Stretches himself in the
chair._] Well, you see—’tis not yet certain. I, for my part,
were nothing loath to stay quiet here awhile; but——

NILS LYKKE.

——But you are not in all points your own master? There be
other duties and other affairs——?

NILS STENSSON.

Ay, that is just the rub. Were I to choose, I would rest me
at Östråt at least the winter through; I have for the most
part led a soldier’s life, and——

[_Interrupts himself suddenly, fills a goblet, and
drinks._

Your health, Sir!

NILS LYKKE.

A soldier’s life? H’m!

NILS STENSSON.

Nay, what I would have said is this: I have long been eager
to see Lady Inger Gyldenlöve, whose fame has spread so wide.
She must be a queenly woman,—is’t not so?——The one thing I
like not in her, is that she is so cursedly slow to take
open action.

NILS LYKKE.

Open action?

NILS STENSSON.

Ay, ay, you understand me; I mean she is so loath to take a
hand in driving the foreign masters out of the land.

NILS LYKKE.

Ay, there you are right. But if now you do what you can, you
will doubtless move her.

NILS STENSSON.

I? God knows ’twould but little serve if _I_——

NILS LYKKE.

Yet ’tis strange you should seek her here if you have so
little hope.

NILS STENSSON.

What mean you?—Tell me, know you Lady Inger?

NILS LYKKE.

Surely; since I am her guest——

NILS STENSSON.

Ay, but it in nowise follows that you know her. I too am her
guest, yet have I never seen so much as her shadow.

NILS LYKKE.

Yet did you speak of her——

NILS STENSSON.

——as all folk speak. Why should I not? And besides, I have
often enough heard from Peter Kanzler——

[_Stops in confusion, and falls to eating busily._

NILS LYKKE.

You would have said——?

NILS STENSSON.

[_Eating._] I? Nay, ’tis all one.

[_Nils Lykke laughs._

NILS STENSSON.

Why laugh you, Sir?

NILS LYKKE.

At nothing, Sir!

NILS STENSSON.

[_Drinks._] A pretty vintage ye have in this house.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Approaches him confidentially._] Listen—were it not time
now to throw off the mask?

NILS STENSSON.

[_Smiling._] The mask? Why, do as seems best to you.

NILS LYKKE.

Then off with all disguise. You are known, Count Sture!

NILS STENSSON.

[_Bursts out laughing._] Count Sture? Do you too take me for
Count Sture?

[_Rises from the table._

You mistake, Sir! I am not Count Sture.

NILS LYKKE.

You are not? Then who are you?

NILS STENSSON.

My name is Nils Stensson.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Looks at him with a smile._] H’m! Nils Stensson? But you
are not Sten Sture’s son Nils? The name chimes at least.

NILS STENSSON.

True enough; but God knows what right I have to bear it. My
father I never knew; my mother was a poor peasant-woman,
that was robbed and murdered in one of the old feuds. Peter
Kanzler chanced to be on the spot; he took me into his care,
brought me up, and taught me the trade of arms. As you know,
King Gustav has been hunting him this many a year; and I
have followed him faithfully, wherever he went.

NILS LYKKE.

Peter Kanzler has taught you more than the trade of arms,
meseems.——Well, well; then you are not Nils Sture. But at
least you come from Sweden. Peter Kanzler has sent you
hither to find a stranger, who——

NILS STENSSON.

[_Nods cunningly._]——who is found already.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Somewhat uncertain._] And whom you do not know?

NILS STENSSON.

As little as you know me; for I swear to you by God himself:
I am not Count Sture!

NILS LYKKE.

In sober earnest, Sir?

NILS STENSSON.

As truly as I live! Wherefore should I deny it, if I were?

NILS LYKKE.

But where, then, is Count Sture?

NILS STENSSON.

[_In a low voice._] Ay, _that_ is just the secret.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Whispers._] Which is known to you? Is’t not so?

NILS STENSSON.

[_Nods._] And which I am to tell you.

NILS LYKKE.

To tell me? Well then,—where is he?

[NILS STENSSON _points upwards._

NILS LYKKE.

Up there? Lady Inger holds him hidden in the loft-room?

NILS STENSSON.

Nay, nay; you mistake me.

[_Looks round cautiously._

Nils Sture is in Heaven!

NILS LYKKE.

Dead? And where?

NILS STENSSON.

In his mother’s castle,—three weeks since.

NILS LYKKE.

Ah, you are deceiving me! ’Tis but five or six days since he
crossed the frontier into Norway.

NILS STENSSON.

Oh, that was I.

NILS LYKKE.

But just before that the Count had appeared in the Dales.
The people, who were restless already, broke out openly and
would have chosen him for king.

NILS STENSSON.

Ha-ha-ha; that was me too!

NILS LYKKE.

You?

NILS STENSSON.

I will tell you how it came about. One day Peter Kanzler
called me to him and gave me to know that great things were
preparing. He bade me set out for Norway and fare to Östråt,
where I must be on a certain fixed day——

NILS LYKKE.

[_Nods._] The third night after Martinmas.

NILS STENSSON.

There I was to meet a stranger——

NILS LYKKE.

Ay, right; I am he.

NILS STENSSON.

From him I should learn what more I had to do. Moreover, I
was to let him know that the Count was dead of a sudden, but
that as yet ’twas known to no one save to his mother the
Countess, together with Peter Kanzler and a few old servants
of the Stures.

NILS LYKKE.

I understand. The Count was the peasants’ rallying-point.
Were the tidings of his death to spread, they would fall
asunder,—and ’twould all come to nought.

NILS STENSSON.

Ay, maybe so; I know little of such matters.

NILS LYKKE.

But how came you to give yourself out for the Count?

NILS STENSSON.

How came I to——? Nay, what know I? Many’s the mad prank I
have hit on in my day. And yet ’twas not I hit on it
neither; for whereever I appeared in the Dales, the people
crowded round me and hailed me as Count Sture. Deny it as I
pleased, ’twas wasted breath. The Count had been there two
years before, they said—and the veriest child knew me again.
Well, so be it, thought I; never again will you be a Count
in this life; why not try what ’tis like for once?

NILS LYKKE.

Well,—and what did you more?

NILS STENSSON.

I? I ate and drank and took my ease. The only pity was that
I had to take the road again so soon. But when I set forth
across the frontier—ha-ha-ha—I promised them I would soon be
back with three or four thousand men—I know not how many I
said—and then we would lay on in earnest.

NILS LYKKE.

And you did not bethink you that you were acting rashly?

NILS STENSSON.

Ay, afterwards; but then, to be sure, ’twas too late.

NILS LYKKE.

I grieve for you, my young friend; but you will soon come to
feel the effects of your folly. Let me tell you that you are
pursued. A troop of Swedish men-at-arms is out after you.

NILS STENSSON.

After me? Ha-ha-ha! Nay, that is rare! And when they come
and think they have Count Sture in their clutches—ha-ha-ha!

NILS LYKKE.

[_Gravely._]——Then ’tis all over with you.

NILS STENSSON.

All over——? But I am not Count Sture.

NILS LYKKE.

You have called the people to arms. You have given seditious
promises, and raised troubles in the land.

NILS STENSSON.

Ay, but ’twas only in jest!

NILS LYKKE.

King Gustav will scarce take that view of the affair.

NILS STENSSON.

Truly, there is something in what you say. To think I could
be so featherwitted——Well, well, I’m not a dead man yet! You
will protect me; and besides—-the men-at-arms can scarce be
at my heels yet.

NILS LYKKE.

But what else have you to tell me?

NILS STENSSON.

I? Nothing. When once I have given you the packet——

NILS LYKKE.

[_Off his guard._] The packet?

NILS STENSSON.

Ay, sure you know——

NILS LYKKE.

Ah, right, right; the papers from Peter Kanzler——

NILS STENSSON.

See, here they all are.

[_Takes out a packet from inside his doublet, and
hands it to_ NILS LYKKE.

NILS LYKKE.

[_Aside._] Letters and papers for Olaf Skaktavl. [_To_
NILS STENSSON.

The packet is open, I see. ’Tis like you know what it
contains?

NILS STENSSON.

No, good sir; I love not to read writing; and for reason
good.

NILS LYKKE.

I understand; you have given most care to the trade of arms.

[_Sits down by the table on the right, and runs
through the papers._

Aha! Here is light enough and to spare on what is brewing.

This small letter tied with a silken thread—[_Examines the
address._] This too for Olaf Skaktavl. [_Opens the letter,
and glances through its contents._] From Peter Kanzler. I
thought as much. [_Reads under his breath._] “I am hard
bested, for—”; ay, sure enough; here it stands,—“Young Count
Sture has been gathered to his fathers, even at the time
fixed for the revolt to break forth”—“—but all may yet be
made good—” What now? [_Reads on in astonishment._] “You
must know, then, Olaf Skaktavl, that the young man who
brings you this letter is a son of—” Heaven and earth—can it
be so?—Ay, by the cross of Christ, even so ’tis written!
[_Glances at_ NILS STENSSON.] Can he be—? Ah, if it were so!
[_Reads on._] “I have nurtured him since he was a year old;
but up to this day I have ever refused to give him back,
trusting to have in him a sure hostage for Inger
Gyldenlöve’s faithfulness to us and to our friends. Yet in
that respect he has but little availed us. You may marvel
that I told you not this secret when you were with me here
of late; therefore will I confess freely that I feared you
might seize upon him, even as I had done, and to the same
intent. But now, when you have seen Lady Inger, and have
doubtless assured yourself how loath she is to have a hand
in our undertaking, you will see that ’tis wisest to give
her back her own as soon as may be. Well might it come to
pass that in her joy and security and thankfulness—” ——
“—that is now our last hope.”

[_Sits for a while as though struck dumb with
surprise; then exclaims in a low voice:_

Aha,—what a letter! Gold would not buy it!

NILS STENSSON.

’Tis plain I have brought you weighty tidings. Ay, ay,—Peter
Kanzler has many irons in the fire, folk say.

NILS LYKKE.

[_To himself._] What to do with all this? A thousand paths
are open to me—What if I were—? No, ’twere to risk too much.
But if—ah, if I—? I will venture it!

[_Tears the letter across, crumples up the pieces,
and hides them inside his doublet; puts back the
other papers into the packet, which he thrusts
inside his belt; rises and says:_

A word, my young friend!

NILS STENSSON.

[_Approaching him._] Well—your looks say that the game goes
bravely.

NILS LYKKE.

Ay, by my soul it does. You have given me a hand of nought
but court cards,—queens and knaves——

NILS STENSSON.

But what of me, that have brought all these good tidings?
Have I nought more to do?

NILS LYKKE.

You? Ay, that have you. You belong to the game. You are a
king—and king of trumps too.

NILS STENSSON.

I a king? Oh, now I understand; you are thinking of my
exaltation——

NILS LYKKE.

Your exaltation?

NILS STENSSON.

Ay; that which you foretold for me, if King Gustav’s men got
me in their clutches——

[_Makes a motion to indicate hanging._

NILS LYKKE.

True enough;—but let that trouble you no more. It now lies
with yourself alone whether within a month you shall have
the hempen noose or a chain of gold about your neck.

NILS STENSSON.

A chain of gold? And it lies with me?

[NILS LYKKE _nods._

NILS STENSSON.

Why then, the devil take doubting! Do you but tell me what I
am to do.

NILS LYKKE.

I will. But first you must swear me a solemn oath that no
living creature in the wide world shall know what I confide
to you.

NILS STENSSON.

Is that all? You shall have ten oaths, if you will.

NILS LYKKE.

Not so lightly, young Sir! ’Tis no jesting matter.

NILS STENSSON.

Well, well; I am grave enough.

NILS LYKKE.

In the Dales you called yourself a Count’s son;—is’t not so?

NILS STENSSON.

Nay—begin you now on _that_ again? Have I not made free
confession——

NILS LYKKE.

You mistake me. What you said in the Dales was the truth.

NILS STENSSON.

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.