Eric monologue (Act 3) — Plays by August Strindberg, Fourth Series

What could I do with it? Throw it at the feet of the women to be defiled by them?--My heart lies buried in my mother's coffin in the vault of the Upsala cathedral. I was only four years old when it was put there, but there it lies with her, and they tell me there was a hole in her head as if she had been struck by the hammer of Thor--which I did not see, however. When I asked to see my mother for the last time at the burial, they had already screwed on the coffin lid. Well, there lies my heart--the only one I ever had What have you to do with my entrails, for that matter? Or with my feelings?--Look out for my reason; that's all! I grasp your thoughts before you have squeezed them out of yourself. I understand perfectly that you would like to see the crown placed on the red hair of that red devil whom you call son, and whom I must needs call brother. He insists that he has more ancestors than I, and that he is descended from Danish kings. If that's so, he has a lot of fine relatives. Eric Ploughpenny had his head cut off. Abel killed his brother and was killed in turn. Christoffer was poisoned. Eric the Blinking was stuck like a pig.--I have no elegant relatives like those, but if heredity counts, I must keep an eye on my dear brother.