We walk from hall to hall, and the wooden shutters are opened to admit daylight.  All is vast, lofty, spacious, and adorned with antique chimney-pieces, and from every window there is a charming prospect over the clear, deep Vettern.  In one of the chambers in the ground floor sat the insane Duke Magnus, (whose stone image we lately saw conspicuous in the church) horrified at having signed his own brother’s death-warrant; dreamingly in love with the portrait of Scotland’s Queen, Mary Stuart; paying court to her and expecting to see the ship, with her, glide over the sea towards Vadstene.  And she came—­he thought she came—­in the form of a mermaid, raising herself aloft on the water:  she nodded and called to him, and the unfortunate Duke sprang out of the window down to her.  We gazed out of this window, and below it we saw the deep moat in which he sank.

We enter the yeoman’s hall, and the council hall, where, in the recesses of the windows, on each side, are painted yeomen in strange dresses, half Dalecarlians and half Roman warriors.

In this once rich saloon, Svanta Steenson Sture knelt to Sweden’s Queen, Catherine Lejonhufved:  she was Svanta Sture’s love, before Gustavus Vasa’s will made her his Queen.  The lovers met here:  the walls are silent as to what they said, when the door was opened and the King entered, and saw the kneeling Sture, and asked what it meant.  Margaret answered craftily and hastily:  “He demands my sister Martha’s hand in marriage!” and the King gave Svanta Sture the bride the Queen had asked for him.

We are now in the royal bridal chamber, whither King Gustavus led his third consort.  Catherine Steenbock, also another’s bride, the bride of the Knight Gustavus.  It is a sad story.

Gustavus of the three roses, was in his youth honoured by the King, who sent him on a mission to the Emperor Charles the Fifth.  He returned adorned with the Emperor’s costly golden chain—­young, handsome, joyous and richly clad, he returned home, and knew well how to relate the magnificence and charms of foreign lands:  young and old listened to him with admiration, but young Catherine most of all.  Through him the world in her eyes became twice as large, rich, and beautiful; they became dear to each other, and their parents blessed their love.  The love-pledge was to be drunk,—­when there came a message from the King, that the young Knight must, without delay, again bear a letter and greeting to the Emperor Charles.  The betrothed pair separated with heavy hearts, but with a promise of mutual inviolable troth.  The King then invited Catherine’s parents to come to Vadstene palace.  Catherine was obliged to accompany them; here King Gustavus saw her for the first time, and the old man fell in love with her.

Christmas was kept with great hilarity; there were song and harp in these halls, and the King himself played the lute.  When the time came for departure, the King said to Catherine’s mother, that he would marry the young girl.