QUEEN. No, no! I thought the bloody tale of the Folkungs was ended long ago.
KING. Let us hope it is! But your maternal ancestor was nevertheless a daughter of Eric Ploughpenny of Denmark and had a son with her brother-in-law, King Waldemar of Sweden, the son of Earl Birger....
QUEEN. Why do you tell me all these dreadful stories?
KING. I thought it might amuse you to know that you have royal blood in your veins, while I have peasant blood. You are too modest, Margaret, and I wish to see you exalted—so high that that fool Eric will be forced to respect you.
QUEEN. To have sprung from a crime should make one more modest.
KING. Well, that's enough about that. Was there anything else?
The QUEEN hesitates.
KING. You are thinking of Anders Persson and Mons Nilsson, but I won't let you talk of them.
The QUEEN kneels before him.
KING. Please, get up! [As she remains on her knees] Then I must leave you. [He goes out to the left.