Peace, I say! look how the people swarm.
[A funeral hymn is heard from the room within.
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.
Nils Lykke.
God’s blood!—what has befallen here?
Lady Inger.
My daughters—my fair daughters! I have none any more. I had one 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.
Nils Lykke.
Ah—it has come to this! The Lord’s vengeance is upon me.
Lady Inger.