Prince [smiling]. If thou art good, my Prince!... How clear their glances sparkle! From those eyes a world of sunshine bursts; alas, I am not worthy of it! [The young Prince and Anna Goldhair go out.]
[The Chancellor and a train of nobles come up the steps. After them guards and two trumpeters. The Chancellor makes obeisance and asks the Queen a question. The Queen assents silently and mounts, holding by the balustrade, to the platform on which the throne stands, pushed to one side. The Chancellor makes a sign to the trumpeters, and they blow a signal, which echoes below, then he raises the sword, which a page brings upon a cushion.]
Chancellor. Illustrious Lady, honored Queen, as chancellor of thy appointed realm, I offer thee this sword whereon to take the oath: that in thy hand, so strong because so weak, what first prevailed as thy country's law, what now prevails, and what shall prevail again when violence and lust cease to clutch after our soul's sanctuaries,--that law on which we have relied, so mild it was, because created by a free and happy fatherland--will be forever new and vigorous.
Queen. I swear it on the iron sword of my kingdom, and on the runes carved thereupon; though nature has denied it to a woman to avenge a violated oath with her own hand, yet I will never rest in my grave unless all is fulfilled that I have spoken. I swore it solemnly, and on this sword I will announce and reavow to you, that whosoever conquers in this fight may claim me for his wife when he desires.... Speak now, ye who cursed my mourning and my sorrow's backward glance: do I fulfill your will with shuddering? Do I not give ye the King ye seek?
[The nobles strike their shields with their swords in token of approval.]
Chancellor. Now to you who stand prepared to ring the throne and kingdom with the sharpness of your swords; before the land submits itself to the victor, give answer who you are!
Duke. Thou knowest me well.
Chancellor. Who knows thee not? Flames spread before thee hither like a banner, the vulture knows thee that shrieks after carrion, the auk knows thee on the blood-furrowed sea; yet custom demands, the which thou knowest not, that thou shalt name thyself at this hour.
Duke. I am the Duke of Gotland!
Hans Lorbass [highly excited, pointing to Prince Witte]. He is the Duke of Gotland! [Great disturbance and amazement.]