Bernhard Severin Ingemann

Bernhard Severin Ingemann

Summary

Portrait of Bernhard Severin Ingemann Bernhard Severin Ingemann,  The Childhood of King Erik Menved…

“ Nay, my brave Skirmen. You have never seen your master yield at tourney, nor yet at sharper fighting; much less shall you see him now give way. Here, indeed, I cannot defend my life and honour with this sword; but, if God wills, I will try another, that, without being a traitor to my country, I can use against my lord and king himself. My tongue must now be my sword, and righteousness my shield; now, it concerns not me alone, but the crown and kingdom. The revolt, it seems, is to be aided by Sweden and Norway. Now, then, I must to the king, even should the way to him lie amid serpents. ”
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Bernhard Severin Ingemann Bernhard Severin Ingemann,  The Childhood of King Erik Menved…

“ Who has paid you for the King of Denmark's life?"
"I am not a hired assassin," replied Lavé Rimaardson, proudly: "I am a knight of princely blood, and no king shall offend me with impunity. In the hour that you adjudged me an outlaw, I swore your death and downfall, King Erik! And were my right hand now free, I should keep my oath, and this moment would be your last."
"Madman!" exclaimed the king, stepping back; "if, by such audacious confession, you think to gain a respite, you are mistaken: you shall not even have time to name your accomplices, if you have them."
”
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Bernhard Severin Ingemann Bernhard Severin Ingemann,  The Childhood of King Erik Menved…

“ The grave landsknechts were amazed: no enemy was perceptible in the misty dawn, and they were not accustomed to receive orders from a squire. Whilst they hesitated and delayed, Skirmen leaped from his saddle, and hurried up to the queen's large ante-chamber, where Sir Thorstenson himself kept night-watch with the royal body-guards.
"The king is murdered!" cried Skirmen, almost breathless.
The whole of the knight's men in the hall sprang up, and stood as if thunderstruck or petrified.
"Murdered!" exclaimed Sir Thorstenson: "art thou in thy right senses, Skirmen?"
”
Source: Gutenberg

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