[Goes back again into the room on the left.
Lady Inger.
[Begins to seal a letter, but throws it down half-closed; walks up and down awhile, and then says vehemently:] Were I a coward I had never done it—never to all eternity! Were I a coward, I had shrieked to myself: Refrain, while there is yet a shred of hope for the saving of thy soul!
[Her eye falls on Sten Sture’s picture; she turns to avoid seeing it, and says softly:
He is laughing down at me as though he were alive! Pah!
[Turns the picture to the wall without looking at it.
Wherefore did you laugh? Was it because I did evil to your son? But the other,—is not he your son too? And he is mine as well; mark that!
[Glances stealthily along the row of pictures.
So wild as they are to-night, I have never seen them yet. Their eyes follow me wherever I may go. [Stamps on the floor.] I will not have it! I will have peace in my house! [Begins to turn all the pictures to the wall.] Ay, if it were the Holy Virgin herself——Thinkest thou now is the time——? Why didst thou never hear my prayers, my burning prayers, that I might have my child again? Why? Because the monk of Wittenberg is right: There is no mediator between God and man!
[She draws her breath heavily, and continues in ever-increasing distraction.