thee. Dear has this meeting been to both of us;—there is my hand; be
there peace between us!
GUNNAR.
Thanks, Örnulf! And now aboard; I sail with thee to Iceland.
ÖRNULF.
Ay, to Iceland! Long will it be ere our forthfaring is forgotten.
Weapon-wielding warriors’ meeting,
woful, by the norland seaboard,
still shall live in song and saga
while our stem endures in Iceland.
THE END
-----
Footnote 7:
Failing to find a better equivalent for the Norwegian “Herse,” I
have used the word “Headman” wherever it seemed necessary to give
Gunnar a title or designation. He is generally spoken of as
“Gunnar Herse” in the Norwegian text; but where it could be done
without inconvenience, the designation has here been omitted.
Footnote 8:
“I ærlig holmgang.” The established form of duel in the viking
times was to land the combatants on one of the rocky islets or
“holms” that stud the Norwegian coast, and there let them fight it
out. Hence “holmgang”=duel.
Footnote 9:
“At knæsætte” = to knee-set a child, to take it on one’s knee, an
irrevocable form of adoption.
Footnote 10:
The giants or Titans of Scandinavian mythology.
Footnote 11:
Breastplate.
Footnote 12:
“Draugen,” a vague and horrible sea-monster.
Footnote 13:
Literally the “blood-night.”
Footnote 14:
The “Nornir” were the Fates of northern mythology.
Footnote 15:
The Valkyries.
Footnote 16:
Holmgang—see note, p. 19.
Footnote 17:
Bragi, the god of poetry and eloquence.
Footnote 18:
See note, p. 72.
Footnote 19:
Suttung was a giant who kept guard over the magic mead of poetical
inspiration.
Footnote 20:
The word “wraith” is here used in an obviously inexact sense; but
the wraith seemed to be the nearest equivalent in English
mythology to the Scandinavian “fylgie,” an attendant spirit, often
regarded as a sort of emanation from the person it accompanied,
and sometimes (as in this case) typifying that person’s moral
attributes.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE PRETENDERS
(1863)
CHARACTERS.
HÅKON HÅKONSSON, _the King elected by the Birchlegs._
INGA OF VARTEIG, _his mother._
EARL SKULE.
LADY RAGNHILD, _his wife._
SIGRID, _his sister._
MARGRETE, _his daughter._
GUTHORM INGESSON.
SIGURD RIBBUNG.
NICHOLAS ARNESSON, _Bishop of Oslo._
DAGFINN THE PEASANT, _Håkon’s marshal._
IVAR BODDE, _his chaplain._
VEGARD VÆRADAL, _one of his guard._
GREGORIUS JONSSON, _a nobleman._
PAUL FLIDA, _a nobleman._
INGEBORG, _Andres Skialdarband’s wife._
PETER, _her son, a young priest._
SIRA VILIAM, _Bishop Nicholas’s chaplain._
MASTER SIGARD OF BRABANT, _a physician._
JATGEIR SKALD,_ an Icelander._
BÅRD BRATTE, _a chieftain from the Trondhiem district._
_Populace and Citizens of Bergen, Oslo, and Nidaros._
_Priests, Monks, and Nuns._
_Guests, Guards, and Ladies._
_Men-at-Arms, etc. etc._
_The action passes in the first half of the Thirteenth Century._
_Pronunciation of Names_: Håkon=Hoakoon (“oa” as in “board”);
Skule=Skoolë; Margrete=Margraytë; Guthorm=Gootorm; Sigurd
Ribbung=Sigoord Ribboong; Dagfinn (“a” as in “hard”); Ivar
Bodde=Eevar Boddë; Vegard=Vaygard; Jonsson=Yoonson; Flida=Fleeda;
Ingeborg=Ingheborg; Jatgeir=Yatgheir; Bård Bratte=Board Brattë. The
name “Ingeborg” appears as “Ingebjörg” in Ibsen’s text. The form I
have substituted is equally current in Norway, and less troublesome
to pronounce.
THE PRETENDERS.
HISTORIC PLAY IN FIVE ACTS.
--------------
ACT FIRST.
_The churchyard of Christ Church, Bergen. At the back rises the
church, the main portal of which faces the spectators. In
front, on the left, stands_ HÅKON HÅKONSSON, _with_ DAGFINN
THE PEASANT, VEGARD OF VÆRADAL, IVAR BODDE, _and several other
nobles and chieftains. Opposite to him stand_ EARL SKULE,
GREGORIUS JONSSON, PAUL FLIDA, _and others of the Earl’s men.
Further back on the same side are seen_ SIGURD RIBBUNG _and
his followers, and a little way from him_ GUTHORM INGESSON,
_with several chiefs. Men-at-arms line the approaches to the
church; the common people fill the churchyard; many are
perched in the trees and seated on the walls; all seem to
await, in suspense, the occurrence of some event. All the
church bells of the town are ringing far and near._
EARL SKULE.
[_Softly and impatiently, to_ GREGORIUS JONSSON.] Why tarry they so
long in there?
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Hush! The psalm is beginning.
[_From inside the closed church doors, to the accompaniment
of trumpets, is heard a_ CHOIR OF MONKS AND NUNS
_singing_ Domine cœli, _etc. etc. While the singing
is going on, the church door is opened from inside; in
the porch_ BISHOP NICHOLAS _is seen, surrounded by
Priests and Monks._
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Steps forward to the doorway and proclaims with uplifted
crozier._] Inga of Varteig is even now bearing the iron on behalf of
Håkon the Pretender.
[_The church door is closed again; the singing inside
continues._
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
[_In a low voice, to the_ EARL.] Call upon Holy King Olaf to protect
the right.
EARL SKULE.
[_Hurriedly, with a deprecating gesture._] Not now. Best not remind
him of me.
IVAR BODDE.
[_Seizing_ HÅKON _by the arm._] Pray to the Lord thy God, Håkon
Håkonsson.
HÅKON.
No need; I am sure of him.
[_The singing in the church grows louder; all uncover; many
fall upon their knees and pray._
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
[_To the_ EARL.] A solemn hour for you and for many!
EARL SKULE.
[_Looking anxiously towards the church._] A solemn hour for Norway.
PAUL FLIDA.
[_Near the_ EARL.] Now is the glowing iron in her hands.
DAGFINN.
[_Beside_ HÅKON.] They are coming down the nave.
IVAR BODDE.
Christ protect thy tender hands, Inga, mother of the King!
HÅKON.
Surely all my life shall reward her for this hour.
EARL SKULE.
[_Who has been listening intently, breaks out suddenly._] Did she
cry out? Has she let the iron fall?
PAUL FLIDA.
[_Goes up._] I know not what it was.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Hark to the women weeping in the outer hall!
THE CHOIR IN THE CHURCH.
[_Breaks forth in jubilation._] Gloria in excelsis Deo!
[_The doors are thrown open._ INGA _comes forth, followed by
Nuns, Priests, and Monks._
INGA.
[_On the church steps._] God has given judgment! Behold these hands;
with them I bore the iron!
VOICES AMONGST THE MULTITUDE.
They are tender and white as before!
OTHER VOICES.
Fairer still!
THE WHOLE MULTITUDE.
He is Håkon’s son! He is Sverre’s[21] grandson!
HÅKON.
[_Embraces her._] Thanks to thee, thanks to thee, blessed among
women!
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_In passing, to the_ EARL.] ’Twas ill done to press for the ordeal.
EARL SKULE.
Nay, my lord Bishop, needs must we pray for God’s voice in this
matter.
HÅKON.
[_Deeply moved, holding_ INGA _by the hand._] It is done, then, that
which my every fibre cried out against—that which has made my heart
shrivel and writhe within me——
DAGFINN.
[_Turning towards the multitude._] Ay, look upon this woman and
bethink you, all that are gathered here! Who ever doubted her word,
until certain folk required that it should be doubted.
PAUL FLIDA.
Doubt has whispered in every corner from the hour when Håkon the
Pretender was borne, a little child, into King Inge’s[22] hall.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
And last winter it swelled to a roar, and sounded forth over the
land, both north and south; I trow every man can bear witness to
that.
HÅKON.
I myself can best bear witness to it. Therefore have I yielded to
the counsel of many faithful friends, and humbled myself as no other
chosen king has done for many a day. I have proved my birth by the
ordeal, proved my right, as the son of Håkon Sverresson, to succeed
to the throne of Norway. I will not now question who fostered the
doubt, and made it, as the Earl’s kinsman says, swell into a roar;
but this I know, that I have suffered bitterly under it. I have been
chosen king from boyhood, but little kingly honour has been shown
me, even where it seemed I might look for it most securely. I will
but remind you of last Palm Sunday in Nidaros,[23] when I went up to
the altar to make my offering, and the Archbishop turned away and
made as though he saw me not, to escape greeting me as kings are
wont to be greeted. Yet such slights I could easily have borne, had
not open war been like to break loose in the land; that I must needs
hinder.
DAGFINN.
It may be well for kings to hearken to counsels of prudence; but had
my counsel been heard in this matter, it had not been with hot iron,
but with cold steel that Håkon Håkonsson had called for judgment
between himself and his foes.
HÅKON.
Curb yourself, Dagfinn; think what beseems the man who is to be
foremost in the State.
EARL SKULE.
[_With a slight smile._] ’Tis easy to call every one the King’s foe
who chimes not with the King’s will. Methinks _he_ is the King’s
worst foe who would counsel him against making good his right to the
kingship.
HÅKON.
Who knows? Were my right alone in question, mayhap I had not paid so
dear to prove it; but higher things are here at stake: my calling
and my duty. Deep and warm is the faith within me—and I blush not to
own it—that I alone am he who in these times can sway the land to
its weal. Kingly birth begets kingly duty——
EARL SKULE.
There are others here who bear themselves the like fair witness.
SIGURD RIBBUNG.
That do I, and with full as good ground. My grandfather was King
Magnus Erlingsson——
HÅKON.
Ay, if your father, Erling Steinvæg, was indeed King Magnus’s son;
but most folk deny it, and in that matter none has yet faced the
ordeal.
SIGURD RIBBUNG.
The Ribbungs chose me as king of their own free will, whereas ’twas
by threats that Dagfinn the Peasant and other Birchlegs[24] gained
for you the name of King.
HÅKON.
Ay, so ill had you dealt with Norway that the stock of Sverrë had to
claim its right with threats.
GUTHORM INGESSON.
I am of the stock of Sverrë as much as you——
DAGFINN.
But not in the true male line.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
You come on the spindle side, Guthorm.
GUTHORM INGESSON.
Yet this I know, that my father, Ingë Bårdsson, was lawfully chosen
king of Norway.
HÅKON.
Because none knew that Sverrë’s grandson was alive. From the day
that became known, he held the kingdom in trust for me—not
otherwise.
EARL SKULE.
That cannot truly be said; Ingë was king all his days, with all
lawful power and without reserve. ’Tis true enough that Guthorm has
but little claim, for he was born out of wedlock; but I am King
Ingë’s lawfully begotten brother, and the law is with me if I claim,
and take, his full inheritance.
DAGFINN.
Ah, Sir Earl, of a truth you have taken full inheritance, not of
your father’s wealth alone, but of all the goods Håkon Sverresson
left behind him.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Not all, good Dagfinn. Respect the truth;—King Håkon has kept a
brooch and the golden ring he wears on his arm.
HÅKON.
Be that as it will; with God’s help I shall win myself wealth again.
And now, ye barons and thanes, ye churchmen and chieftains and
men-at-arms, now it is time we held the folkmote, as has been
agreed. I have sat with bound hands until this day; methinks no man
will blame me for longing to have them loosed.
EARL SKULE.
There are others in like case, Håkon Håkonsson.
HÅKON.
[_His attention arrested._] What mean you, Sir Earl?
EARL SKULE.
I mean that all we Pretenders have the same cause for longing. We
have all alike been straitly bound, for none of us has known how far
his right might reach.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The Church has been even as unstable as the kingdom; but now must we
abide by the sainted King Olaf’s law.
DAGFINN.
[_Half aloud._] Fresh subtleties!
[HÅKON’S _men gather more closely together._
HÅKON.
[_With forced calmness, advances a couple of paces towards the_
EARL.] I would fain think I have not rightly taken your meaning. The
ordeal has made good my birthright to the kingdom, and therefore, as
I deem, the folkmote has nought to do but to confirm my election,
made at the Örething[25] six years ago.
SEVERAL OF THE EARL’S AND SIGURD’S MEN.
No, no! That we deny!
EARL SKULE.
’Twas with no such thought that we agreed to hold the folkmote here.
The ordeal has not given you the kingdom; it has but proved your
title to come forward to-day, along with the other Pretenders here
present, and contend for the right you hold to be yours——
HÅKON.
[_Constraining himself to be calm._] That means, in brief, that for
six years I have unlawfully borne the name of King, and you, Sir
Earl, have for six years unlawfully ruled the land as regent for me.
EARL SKULE.
In no wise. When my brother died, ’twas needful that some one should
bear the kingly title. The Birchlegs, and most of all Dagfinn the
Peasant, were active in your cause, and hastened your election
through before we others could set forth our claims.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_To_ HÅKON.] The Earl would say that that election gave you but the
use of the kingly power, not the right to it.
EARL SKULE.
You have held all the marks of kingship; but Sigurd Ribbung and
Guthorm Ingesson and I hold ourselves to the full as near inheritors
as you; and now shall the law judge between us, and say whose shall
be the inheritance for all time.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
In truth, Earl Skule reads the case aright.
EARL SKULE.
There has been talk more than once in these years of both ordeal and
folkmote; but something has ever come between. And, Sir Håkon, if
you deemed your right for ever fixed by the first election, how came
you to accept the ordeal?
DAGFINN.
[_Exasperated._] To your swords, King’s men, let _them_ decide!
MANY OF THE KING’S MEN.
[_Rushing forward._] Down with the King’s enemies!
EARL SKULE.
[_Calls to his men._] Slay none! Wound none! Only keep them off.
HÅKON.
[_Restraining his men._] Up with your blades, all who have drawn
them!—Up with your blades, I say! [_Calmly._] You make things
tenfold worse for me by such doings.
EARL SKULE.
Even so are men flying at each other’s throats all the country over.
You see now, Håkon Håkonsson; does not this show clearly what you
have to do, if you care aught for the country’s peace and the lives
of men?
HÅKON.
[_After some reflection._] Yes—I see it. [_Takes_ INGA _by the hand
and turns to one of those standing by him._] Torkell, you were a
trusty man in my father’s guard; take this woman to your own abode
and see you tend her well; she was very dear to Håkon
Sverresson.—God bless you, my mother,—now I must gird me for the
folkmote. [INGA _presses his hand, and goes with_ TORKELL. HÅKON _is
silent awhile, then steps forward and says with emphasis:_] The law
shall decide, and it alone. Ye Birchlegs who, at the Örething, took
me for your King, I free you from the oath ye sware to me. You,
Dagfinn, are no longer my marshal; I will not appear with marshal or
with guard,[26] with vassals or with henchmen. I am a poor man; all
my inheritance is a brooch and this gold ring;—these are scant goods
wherewith to reward so many good men’s service. Now, ye other
Pretenders, now we stand equal; I will have no advantage of you,
save the right which I have from above—that I neither can nor will
share with any one.—Let the assembly-call be sounded, and then let
God and the Holy King Olaf’s law decide.
[_Goes out with his men to the left; blasts of trumpets and
horns are heard in the distance._
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
[_To the_ EARL, _as the crowd is departing._] Methought you seemed
afraid during the ordeal, and now you look so glad and of good
cheer.
EARL SKULE.
[_Well at ease._] Marked you that he had Sverre’s eyes as he spoke?
Whether he or I be chosen king, the choice will be good.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
[_Uneasily._] But do not you give way. Think of all who stand or
fall with your cause.
EARL SKULE.
I stand now upon justice; I no longer fear to call upon Saint Olaf.
[_Goes out to the left with his followers._
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Hastening after_ DAGFINN THE PEASANT.] All goes well, good
Dagfinn, all goes well;—but keep the Earl far from the King when he
is chosen;—see you keep them far apart!
[_All go out to the left, behind the church._
--------------
_A hall in the Palace. In front, on the left, is a low window; on
the right, the entrance-door; at the back, a larger door which
leads into the King’s Hall. By the window, a table; chairs and
benches stand about._
LADY RAGNHILD _and_ MARGRETE _enter by the smaller door;_ SIGRID
_follows immediately._
LADY RAGNHILD.
In here?
MARGRETE.
Ay, here it is darkest.
LADY RAGNHILD.
[_Goes to the window._] And here we can look down upon the
mote-stead.
MARGRETE.
[_Looks out cautiously._] Ay, there they are, all gathered behind
the church. [_Turns, in tears._] Yonder must now betide what will
bring so much in its train.
LADY RAGNHILD.
Who will be master in this hall to-morrow?
MARGRETE.
Oh, hush! So heavy a day I had never thought to see.
LADY RAGNHILD.
It had to be; to rule in another’s name was no full work for him.
MARGRETE.
Ay, it had to be; _he_ could never rest content with but the name of
king.
LADY RAGNHILD.
Of whom speak you?
MARGRETE.
Of Håkon.
LADY RAGNHILD.
I spoke of the Earl.
MARGRETE.
There breathe not nobler men than they two.
LADY RAGNHILD.
See you Sigurd Ribbung? With what a look of evil cunning he sits
there—like a wolf in chains.
MARGRETE.
Ay, see!—He folds his hands before him on his sword-hilt and rests
his chin upon them.
LADY RAGNHILD.
He bites his beard and laughs——
MARGRETE.
’Tis an evil laugh.
LADY RAGNHILD.
He knows that none will further his cause;—’tis that which makes him
wroth. Who is yonder thane that speaks now?
MARGRETE.
That is Gunnar Grionbak.
LADY RAGNHILD.
Is he for the Earl?
MARGRETE.
No, he is for the King——
LADY RAGNHILD.
[_Looking at her._] For whom say you?
MARGRETE.
For Håkon Håkonsson.
LADY RAGNHILD.
[_Looks out; after a short pause._] Where sits Guthorm Ingesson?—I
see him not.
MARGRETE.
Behind his men, lowest of all there—in a long mantle.
LADY RAGNHILD.
Ay, there.
MARGRETE.
He looks as though he were ashamed——
LADY RAGNHILD.
That is for his mother’s sake.
MARGRETE.
So looked not Håkon.
LADY RAGNHILD.
Who speaks now?
MARGRETE.
[_Looking out._] Tord Skolle, the thane of Ranafylke.
LADY RAGNHILD.
Is _he_ for the Earl?
MARGRETE.
No—for Håkon.
LADY RAGNHILD.
How motionless the Earl sits listening!
MARGRETE.
Håkon seems thoughtful—but strong none the less. [_With animation._]
If there came a traveller from afar, he could pick out those two
amongst all the thousand others.
LADY RAGNHILD.
See, Margrete! Dagfinn the Peasant drags forth a gilded chair for
Håkon——
MARGRETE.
Paul Flida places one like it behind the Earl——
LADY RAGNHILD.
Håkon’s men seek to hinder it!
MARGRETE.
The Earl holds fast to the chair——!
LADY RAGNHILD.
Håkon speaks wrathfully to him. [_Starts back, with a cry, from the
window._] Lord Jesus! Saw you his eyes—and his smile——! No, that was
not the Earl!
MARGRETE.
[_Who has followed her in terror._] ’Twas not Håkon either! Neither
one nor the other!
SIGRID.
[_At the window._] Oh pitiful! Oh pitiful!
MARGRETE.
Sigrid!
LADY RAGNHILD.
You here!
SIGRID.
Goes the path so low that leads up to the throne!
MARGRETE.
Oh, pray with us, that all be guided for the best.
LADY RAGNHILD.
[_White and horror-stricken, to_ SIGRID.] Saw you him——? Saw you my
husband——? His eyes and his smile—I should not have known him!
SIGRID.
Looked he like Sigurd Ribbung?
LADY RAGNHILD.
[_Softly._] Ay, he looked like Sigurd Ribbung.
SIGRID.
Laughed he like Sigurd?
LADY RAGNHILD.
Ay, ay!
SIGRID.
Then must we all pray.
LADY RAGNHILD.
[_With the force of despair._] The Earl _must_ be chosen King!
’Twill work ruin in his soul if he be not the first man in the land!
SIGRID.
[_More loudly._] Then must we all pray!
LADY RAGNHILD.
Hist! What is _that_? [_At the window._] What shouts! All the men
have risen; all the banners and standards wave in the wind.
SIGRID.
[_Seizes her by the arm._] Pray, woman! Pray for your husband!
LADY RAGNHILD.
Ay, Holy King Olaf, give him all the power in this land!
SIGRID.
[_Wildly._] None—none! Else is he lost!
LADY RAGNHILD.
He _must_ have the power. All the good in him will grow and blossom
should he win it.—Look forth, Margrete! Listen! [_Starts back a
step._] All hands are lifted for an oath!
[MARGRETE _listens at the window._
LADY RAGNHILD.
God and St. Olaf, to whom do they swear?
SIGRID.
Pray!
[MARGRETE _listens, and with uplifted hand motions for
silence._
LADY RAGNHILD.
[_After a little while._] Speak!
[_From the mote-stead is heard a loud blast of trumpets and
horns._
LADY RAGNHILD.
God and St. Olaf! To whom have they sworn?
[_A short pause._
MARGRETE.
[_Turns her head and says:_] They have chosen Håkon Håkonsson king.
[_The music of the royal procession is heard, first in the
distance and then nearer and nearer._ LADY RAGNHILD
_clings weeping to_ SIGRID, _who leads her quietly out
on the right;_ MARGRETE _remains immovable, leaning
against the window-frame. The_ KING’S _attendants open
the great doors, disclosing the interior of the Hall,
which is gradually filled by the procession from the
mote-stead._
HÅKON.
[_In the doorway, turning to_ IVAR BODDE.] Bring me a pen and wax
and silk—I have parchment here. [_Advances exultantly to the table
and spreads some rolls of parchment upon it._] Margrete, now am I
King!
MARGRETE.
Hail to my lord and King!
HÅKON.
I thank you. [_Looks at her and takes her hand._] Forgive me; I
forgot that it must wound you.
MARGRETE.
[_Drawing her hand away._] It did not wound me;—of a surety you are
born to be king.
HÅKON.
[_With animation._] Ay, must not all men own it, who remember how
marvellously God and the saints have shielded me from all harm? I
was but a year old when the Birchlegs bore me over the mountains, in
frost and storm, and through the very midst of those who sought my
life. At Nidaros I came scatheless from the Baglers[27] when they
burnt the town with so great a slaughter, while King Ingë himself
barely saved his life by climbing on shipboard up the anchor-cable.
MARGRETE.
Your youth has been a hard one.
HÅKON.
[_Looking steadily at her._] Methinks you might have made it easier.
MARGRETE.
I?
HÅKON.
You might have been so good a foster-sister to me, through all the
years when we were growing up together.
MARGRETE.
But it fell out otherwise.
HÅKON.
Ay, it fell out otherwise;—we looked at each other, I from my
corner, you from yours, but we seldom spoke——[_Impatiently._] What
is keeping him? [IVAR BODDE _comes with the writing materials._] Are
you there? Give me the things!
[HÅKON _seats himself at the table and writes. A little
while after,_ EARL SKULE comes in; then DAGFINN THE
PEASANT, BISHOP NICHOLAS _and_ VEGARD VÆRADAL.
HÅKON.
[_Looks up and lays down his pen._] Know you, Sir Earl, what I am
writing here? [_The_ EARL _approaches._] This is to my mother; I
thank her for all her love, and kiss her a thousand times—here in
the letter you understand. She is to be sent eastward to
Borgasyssel, there to live with all queenly honours.
EARL SKULE.
You will not keep her in the palace?
HÅKON.
She is too dear to me, Earl;—a king must have none about him whom he
loves too well. A king must act with free hands; he must stand alone
he must neither be led nor lured. There is so much to be mended in
Norway.
[_Goes on writing._
VEGARD VÆRADAL.
[_Softly to_ BISHOP NICHOLAS.] ’Tis by _my_ counsel he deals thus
with Inga, his mother.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
I knew your hand in it at once.
VEGARD VÆRADAL.
But now one good turn deserves another.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Wait. I will keep my promise.
HÅKON.
[_Gives the parchment to_ IVAR BODDE.] Fold it together and bear it
to her yourself, with many loving greetings——
IVAR BODDE.
[_Who has glanced at the parchment._] My lord—you write
here—“to-day”——!
HÅKON.
The wind is fair for a southward course.
DAGFINN.
[_Slowly._] Bethink you, my lord King, that she has lain all night
on the altar-steps in prayer and fasting.
IVAR BODDE.
And she may well be weary after the ordeal.
HÅKON.
True, true;—my good, kind mother—— [_Collects himself._] Well, if
she be too weary, let her wait until to-morrow.
IVAR BODDE.
It shall be as you will. [_Puts another parchment forward._] But
this other, my lord.
HÅKON.
That other?—Ivar Bodde, I cannot.
DAGFINN.
[_Points to the letter for_ INGA.] Yet you could do _that_.
IVAR BODDE.
All things sinful must be put away.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Who has drawn near in the meantime._] Bind the Earl’s hands, King
Håkon.
HÅKON.
[_In a low voice._] Think you _that_ is needful?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.