OLAF SKAKTAVL. You need fear him no more; he will betray no one.
LADY INGER (as before). Then he is dumb?
OLAF SKAKTAVL. Six inches of steel in his breast. I felled him with my left hand.
LADY INGER. Ay—the right was too good for such work.
OLAF SKAKTAVL. That is your affair;—the thought was yours.— And now to Sweden! Peace be with you meanwhile! When next we meet at Ostrat, I shall bring another with me.
(Goes out by the furthest door on the right.)
LADY INGER. Blood on my hands. Then it was to come to that!—
He begins to be dear-bought now.
(BIORN comes in, with a number of Swedish men-at-arms, by the
first door on the right.)
ONE OF THE MEN-AT-ARMS. Pardon me, if you are the lady of the
house——
LADY INGER. Is it Count Sture you seek?