cultural resources in henrik ibsen's early environment - Ibsen.net

But yet before the last fold of the curtain conceals him,
Alaric stands on the threshold, clad in steel.
His eyes burn wildly in their sockets,
He smiles bitterly, he marks his target.
The squires bring lime and heavy stone blocks,
Soon a wall is laid around the page's limbs!
Ines lies unconscious. The duke bathes
Himself in his revenge, and sits down to keep watch.
And Ines wakes. She scratches her
White fingers bloody on the hard stones,
And rage's wild cry of distress reverberates
Far over the castle and the free and open nature outside.
But everything is dead . . . only Alaric she sees,
His marble visage mocks, as she is tormented
He only asks placidly, as he laughs:
Do you wish the wall torn down, Donna Ines?
And days and heavy nights pass
Across this same scene of terror.
In time Ines's locks turn gray,
But Alaric is hard, like the wall's stones.
And Ines's eyes cease to shine,
Arms grow shrivelled that before were so round;
Just listen! Listen! Deep, deep within the wall
Sighs are heard, and a hollow, muffled sound"
(Actual muffled noise is heard in the alcove. The count leaps up.)
What was that? Does the page's dark spirit
Still stalk around in the castle?
CLARA (sliding down from her seat).
Mercy! Mercy!
THE COUNT.
What is it you want? Spirits need no mercy.
CLARA (embracing his knees).
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