Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/226



Peace, I say! look how the people swarm.

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.

God's blood!—what has befallen here?

My daughters—my fair daughters! I have none any more. I had  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.

Ah—it has come to this! The Lord's vengeance is upon me.

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?