Hereafter I will have nought to do with such ugly sights. I will be at work both day and night. And in a month—in a month my son will be here
Biörn.
[Entering.] Did you strike the bell, my lady?
Lady Inger.
[Writing.] Bring more lights. See to it in future that there are many lights in the room.
[Biörn goes out again to the left.
Lady Inger.
[After a pause, rises impetuously.] No, no, no;—I cannot guide the pen to-night! My head is burning and throbbing
[Startled, listens.
What is that? Ah, they are screwing the lid on the coffin.
They told me when I was a child the story of Sir Aage,[1] who rose up and walked with his coffin on his back.—If he in there bethought him one night to come with the coffin on his back, and thank me for the loan? [Laughs quietly.] H'm—what have we grown people to do with childish fancies? [Vehemently.] Nevertheless, such stories do no good! They give uneasy dreams. When my son is king, they shall be forbidden.
[Paces up and down once or twice; then opens the window.
- ↑ Pronounce Oaghë.
