NILS STENSSON. Why laugh you, Sir?
NILS LYKKE. 'Tis nought, 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 (with a laugh). 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). Hm! Nils Stensson? But you are not Sten Sture's son Nils? The name chimes at least.