s not that some one riding through the gateway? (Listens
at the window.)
No; not yet. Only the wind; it blows cold as the grave---- ----
Has God a right to do this?--To make me a woman--and then to lay
a man's duty upon my shoulders?
For I _have_ the welfare of the country in my hands. It _is_ in
my power to make them rise as one man. They look to _me_ for the
signal; and if I give it not now---- it may never be given.
To delay? To sacrifice the many for the sake of one?--Were it
not better if I could---- ----? No, no, no--I _will_ not! I
_cannot!_ (Steals a glance towards the Banquet Hall, but turns
away again as if in dread, and whispers:)
I can see them in there now. Pale spectres--dead ancestors--
fallen kinsfolk.--Ah, those eyes that pierce me from every corner!
(Makes a backward gesture with her hand, and cries:)
Sten Sture! Knut Alfson! Olaf Skaktavl! Back--back!--I _cannot_
do this!

(A STRANGER, strongly built, and with grizzled hair and beard,
has entered from the Banquet Hall. He is dressed in a torn
lambskin tunic; his weapons are rusty.)

THE STRANGER (stops in the doorway, and says in a low voice).
Hail to you, Inger Gyldenlove!

LADY INGER (turns with a scream). Ah, Christ in heaven save me!

(Falls back into a chair. The STRANGER stands gazing at her,
motionless, leaning on his sword.)

ACT SECOND.

(The room at Ostrat, as in the first Act.)

(LADY INGER GYLDENLOVE is seated at the table on the right, by the
window. OLAF SKAKTAVL is standing a little way from her. Their
faces show that they have been engaged in an animated discussion.)

OLAF SKAKTAVL. For the last time, Inger Gyldenlove--you are not
to be moved from your purpose?

LADY INGER. I can do nought else. And my counsel to you is:
do as I do. If it be heaven's will that Norway perish utterly,
perish it must, for all we may do to save it.

OLAF SKAKTAVL. And think you I can content myself with words
like these? Shall I sit and look quietly on, now that the hour
is come? Do you forget the reckoning I have to pay? They have
robbed me of my lands, and parcelled them out among themselves.
My son, my only child, the last of my race, they have slaughtered
like a dog. Myself they have outlawed and forced to lurk by forest
and fell these twenty years.--Once and again have folk whispered
of my death; but this I believe, that they shall not lay me beneath
the