HÅKON.
Then I can do it! Give me the pen!
[_Writes._
EARL SKULE.
[_To the_ BISHOP, _who crosses to the right._] You have the King’s
ear, it would seem.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
For your behoof.
EARL SKULE.
Say you so?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Before nightfall you will thank me.
[_He moves away._
HÅKON.
[_Hands the_ EARL _the parchment._] Read that, Earl Skule.
EARL SKULE.
[_Reads, looks in surprise at the_ KING, _and says in a low voice._]
You break with Kanga the Young?
HÅKON.
With Kanga whom I have loved more than all the world. From this day
forth she must never more cross the King’s path.
EARL SKULE.
This that you do is a great thing, Håkon. Mine own memory tells me
what it must cost.
HÅKON.
Whoever is too dear to the King must away.—Tie up the letter.
[_Gives it to_ IVAR BODDE.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Bending over the chair._] You have made a great stride towards the
Earl’s friendship, my lord King.
HÅKON.
[_Holds out his hand to him._] I thank you, Bishop Nicholas; you
counselled me for the best. Ask a grace of me, and I will grant it.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Will you?
HÅKON.
I promise it on my kingly faith.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Then make Vegard Væradal thane of Halogaland.
HÅKON.
Vegard? He is well-nigh the trustiest friend I have; I am loath to
send him so far from me.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The King’s friend must be royally rewarded. Bind the Earl’s hands as
I have counselled you, and you will be secure for ever and a day.
HÅKON.
[_Takes a sheet of parchment._] Vegard shall bear rule in
Halogaland. [_Writing._] I hereby grant it under my royal hand.
[_The Bishop retires._
EARL SKULE.
[_Approaches the table._] What write you now?
HÅKON.
[_Hands him the sheet._] Read.
EARL SKULE.
[_Reads, and looks steadily at the_ KING.] Vegard Væradal? In
Halogaland?
HÅKON.
The northern part stands vacant.
EARL SKULE.
Bethink you that Andres Skialdarband[28] has also a charge in the
north. They two are bitter foes;—Andres Skialdarband is of my
following——
HÅKON.
[_Smiling and rising._] And Vegard Væradal of mine. Therefore they
must e’en make friends again, the sooner the better. Henceforth
there must be no enmity between the King’s men and the Earl’s.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Ha!—this may go too far. [_Approaches, uneasy._
EARL SKULE.
Your thoughts are wise and deep, Håkon.
HÅKON.
[_Warmly._] Earl Skule, to-day have I taken the kingdom from you—let
your daughter share it with me!
EARL SKULE.
My daughter!
MARGRETE.
Oh, God!
HÅKON.
Margrete, will you be my Queen?
[_Margrete is silent._
HÅKON.
[_Takes her hand._] Answer me.
MARGRETE.
[_Softly._] I will gladly be your wife.
EARL SKULE.
[_Pressing Håkon’s hand._] Peace and friendship from my heart!
HÅKON.
I thank you.
IVAR BODDE.
[_To_ DAGFINN.] Heaven be praised; here is the dawn.
DAGFINN.
I almost believe it. Never before have I liked the Earl so well.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Behind him._] Ever on your guard, good Dagfinn—ever on your guard.
IVAR BODDE.
[_To_ VEGARD.] Now are you thane in Halogaland; here you have it
under the King’s hand.
[_Gives him the letter._
VEGARD VÆRADAL.
I will thank the King for his favour another time.
[_About to go._
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Stops him._] Andres Skialdarband is an ugly neighbour; be not
cowed by him.
VEGARD VÆRADAL.
No one has yet cowed Vegard Væradal. [_Goes._
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Following._] Be as rock and flint to Andres Skialdarband,—and,
while I think on’t, take my blessing with you.
IVAR BODDE.
[_Who has been waiting behind the_ KING _with the parchments in his
hand._] Here are the letters, my lord.
HÅKON.
Good; give them to the Earl.
IVAR BODDE.
To the Earl? Will you not seal them?
HÅKON.
The Earl is wont to do that;—he holds the seal.
IVAR BODDE.
[_Softly._] Ay, hitherto—while he was regent—but _now_!
HÅKON.
Now as before;—the Earl holds the seal.
[_Moves away._
EARL SKULE.
Give me the letters, Ivar Bodde.
[_Goes to the table with them, takes out the Great Seal
which he wears under his girdle, and seals the letters
during the following._
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Muttering._] Håkon Håkonsson is King—and the Earl holds the royal
seal;—I like that—I like that.
HÅKON.
What says my lord Bishop?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
I say that God and St. Olaf watch over their holy church. [_Goes
into the King’s Hall._
HÅKON.
[_Approaching Margrete._] A wise queen can do great things in the
land: I chose you fearlessly, for I know you are wise.
MARGRETE.
Only _that_?
HÅKON.
What mean you?
MARGRETE.
Nothing, my lord, nothing.
HÅKON.
And you will bear me no grudge if for my sake you have had to forgo
fair hopes?
MARGRETE.
I have forgone no fair hopes for your sake.
HÅKON.
And you will stand ever near me, and give me good counsel?
MARGRETE.
I would fain stand near to you.
HÅKON.
And give me good counsel. I thank you for that; a woman’s counsel
profits every man, and henceforth I have none but you—my mother I
had to send away——
MARGRETE.
Ay, she was too dear to you——
HÅKON.
And I am King. Farewell then, Margrete! You are so young yet; but
next summer shall our bridal be,—and from that hour I swear to keep
you by my side in all seemly faith and honour.
MARGRETE.
[_Smiles sadly._] Ay, ’twill be long, I know, ere you send me away.
HÅKON.
[_Brightly._] Send you away? That will I never do.
MARGRETE.
[_With tears in her eyes._] No, that Håkon does only to those who
are too dear to him.
[_She goes towards the entrance door._ HÅKON _gazes
thoughtfully after her._
LADY RAGNHILD.
[_From the right._] The King and the Earl tarry here so long! My
fears are killing me;—Margrete, what has the King said and done?
MARGRETE.
Oh, much, much! Last of all, he chose a thane and a Queen.
LADY RAGNHILD.
You, Margrete!
MARGRETE.
[_Throws her arms round her mother’s neck._] Yes!
LADY RAGNHILD.
You are to be Queen!
MARGRETE.
Queen only;—but I think I am glad even of that.
[_She and her mother go out to the right._
EARL SKULE.
[_To_ IVAR BODDE.] Here are our letters; bear them to the King’s
mother and to Kanga.
[IVAR BODDE _bows and goes._
DAGFINN.
[_In the doorway of the hall._] The Archbishop of Nidaros craves
leave to offer King Håkon Håkonsson his homage.
HÅKON.
[_Draws a deep breath._] At last, then, I am King of Norway.
EARL SKULE.
[_Places the Great Seal in his girdle._] But _I_ rule the realm.
ACT SECOND.
_Banquet Hall in the Palace at Bergen. A large bay-window in the
middle of the back wall, along which there is a daïs with
seats for the ladies. Against the left wall stands the throne,
raised some steps above the floor; in the centre of the
opposite wall is the great entrance door. Banners, standards,
shields and weapons, with many-coloured draperies, hang from
the wall-timbers and from the carven rafters. Around the hall
stand drinking-tables, with flagons, horns, and beakers._
KING HÅKON_ sits upon the daïs, with_ MARGRETE, SIGRID, LADY
RAGNHILD, _and many noble ladies._ IVAR BODDE _stands behind
the King’s chair. Round the drinking-tables are seated the
King’s and the Earl’s men, with guests. At the foremost table
on the right sit, among others,_ DAGFINN THE PEASANT,
GREGORIUS JONSSON, _and_ PAUL FLIDA. EARL SKULE _and_ BISHOP
NICHOLAS _are playing chess at a table on the left. The Earl’s
house-folk go to and fro, bearing cans of liquor. From an
adjoining room, music is heard during the following scene._
DAGFINN.
The fifth day now wears on, yet the henchmen are none the less
nimble at setting forth the brimming flagons.
PAUL FLIDA.
It was never the Earl’s wont to stint his guests.
DAGFINN.
No, so it would seem. So royal a bridal-feast was never seen in
Norway before.
PAUL FLIDA.
Earl Skule has never before given a daughter in marriage.
DAGFINN.
True, true; the Earl is a mighty man.
A MAN-AT-ARMS.
He holds a third part of the kingdom. That is more than any earl has
held heretofore.
PAUL FLIDA.
But the King’s part is larger.
DAGFINN.
We talk not of that here; we are friends now, and fully at one.
[_Drinks to_ PAUL.] So let King be King and Earl be Earl.
PAUL FLIDA.
[_Laughs._] ’Tis easy to hear that you are a King’s man.
DAGFINN.
That should the Earl’s men also be.
PAUL FLIDA.
Never. We have sworn fealty to the Earl, not to the King.
DAGFINN.
That may yet have to be done.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_To the_ EARL, _under cover of the game._] Hear you what Dagfinn
the Peasant says?
EARL SKULE.
[_Without looking up._] I hear.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
[_Looking steadily at_ DAGFINN.] Has the King thoughts of that?
DAGFINN.
Nay, nay,—let be;—no wrangling to-day.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The King would force your men to swear him fealty, Earl.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
[_Louder._] Has the King thoughts of that, I ask?
DAGFINN.
I will not answer. Let us drink to peace and friendship between the
King and the Earl. The ale is good.
PAUL FLIDA.
It has had time enough to mellow.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Three times has the Earl prepared the bridal—three times the King
promised to come—three times he came not.
DAGFINN.
Blame the Earl for _that_: he gave us plenty to do in Viken.
PAUL FLIDA.
’Tis said Sigurd Ribbung gave you still more to do in Vermeland.
DAGFINN.
[_Flaring up._] Ay, and who was it that let Sigurd Ribbung slip
through their fingers?
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Sigurd Ribbung fled from us at Nidaros, that all men know.
DAGFINN.
But no man knows that you did aught to hinder him.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_To the_ EARL, _who is pondering on a move._] Hear you, Earl? It
was you who let Sigurd Ribbung escape.
EARL SKULE.
[_Makes a move._] That is an old story.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Have you not heard, then, of the Icelander Andres Torsteinsson,
Sigurd Ribbung’s friend——
DAGFINN.
Ay; when Sigurd had escaped, you hanged the Icelander—that I know.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Makes a move and says laughingly to the_ EARL.] I take the pawn,
Sir Earl.[29]
EARL SKULE.
[_Aloud._] Take him; a pawn is of small account.
[_Makes a move._
DAGFINN.
Ay; that the Icelander found to his cost, when Sigurd Ribbung
escaped to Vermeland.
[_Suppressed laughter amongst the King’s men; the
conversation is continued in a low tone; presently a man
comes in and whispers to_ GREGORIUS JONSSON.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Then I move here, and you have lost.
EARL SKULE.
So it would seem.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Leaning back in his chair._] You did not guard the king well at
the last.
EARL SKULE.
[_Strews the pieces topsy-turvy and rises._] I have long been weary
of guarding kings.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
[_Approaches and says in a low tone._] Sir Earl, Jostein[30] Tamb
sends word that the ship now lies ready for sea.
EARL SKULE.
[_Softly._] Good. [_Takes out a sealed parchment._] Here is the
letter.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
[_Shaking his head._] Earl, Earl,—is _this_ well bethought?
EARL SKULE.
What?
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
It bears the King’s seal.
EARL SKULE.
I am acting for the King’s good.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Then let the King himself reject the offer.
EARL SKULE.
That he will not, if he has his own way. His whole heart is bent on
cowing the Ribbungs, therefore he is fain to secure himself on other
sides.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Your way may be wise,—but it is dangerous.
EARL SKULE.
Leave that to me. Take the letter, and bid Jostein sail forthwith.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
It shall be as you command.
[_Goes out to the right, and presently comes in again._
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_To the_ EARL.] You have much to see to, it would seem.
EARL SKULE.
But small thanks for it.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The King has risen.
[HÅKON _comes down; all the men rise from the tables._
HÅKON.
[_To the_ BISHOP.] We are rejoiced to see you bear up so bravely and
well through all these days of merriment.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
There comes a flicker now and again, my lord King; but ’twill scarce
last long. I have lain sick all the winter through.
HÅKON.
Ay, ay,—you have lived a strong life, rich in deeds of fame.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Shakes his head._] Ah, ’tis little enough I have done, and I have
_much_ still left to do. If I but knew whether I should have time
for it all!
HÅKON.
The living must take up the tasks of those who go before, honoured
lord; we all have the welfare of the land at heart. [_Turns to the_
EARL.] I marvel much at one thing: that neither of our thanes from
Halogaland has come to the bridal.
EARL SKULE.
True; I doubted not that Andres Skialdarband would be here.
HÅKON.
[_Smiling._] And Vegard Væradal too.
EARL SKULE.
Ay, Vegard too.
HÅKON.
[_In jest._] And I trust you would now have received my old friend
better than you did seven years ago on Oslo wharf, when you stabbed
him in the cheek so that the blade cut its way out.
EARL SKULE.
[_With a forced laugh._] Ay, the time that Gunnulf, your mother’s
brother, cut off the right hand of Sira Eiliv, my best friend and
counsellor.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Merrily._] And when Dagfinn the Peasant and the men-at-arms set a
strong night-watch on the King’s ship, saying that the King was
unsafe in the Earl’s ward?
HÅKON.
[_Seriously._] Those days are old and forgotten.
DAGFINN.
[_Approaching._] Now may we sound the call to the weapon-sports on
the green, if so please you, my lord.
HÅKON.
Good. To-day will we give up to nought but merriment; to-morrow we
must turn our thoughts again to the Ribbungs and the Earl of Orkney.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Ay, he denies to pay tribute, is it not so?
HÅKON.
Were I once well rid of the Ribbungs, I would myself fare westward.
[HÅKON _goes towards the daïs, gives his hand to_ MARGRETE, _and
leads her out to the right; the others gradually follow._
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_To_ IVAR BODDE.] Who is the man called Jostein Tamb?
IVAR BODDE.
There is a trader from Orkney who bears that name.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
From Orkney? So, so! And now he sails home again?
IVAR BODDE.
So I think.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Softly._] With a precious freight, Ivar Bodde.
IVAR BODDE.
Corn and raiment, most like.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
And a letter from Earl Skule.
IVAR BODDE.
[_Starting._] To whom?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
I know not; it bore the King’s seal——
IVAR BODDE.
[_Seizes him by the arm._] Lord Bishop,—is it as you say?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Hush! Do not mix me up in the matter.
[_Retires._
IVAR BODDE.
Then must I straightway——Dagfinn the Peasant! Dagfinn! Dagfinn——!
[_Pushes through the crowd towards the door._
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_In a tone of commiseration, to_ GREGORIUS JONSSON.] Never a day
but one or another must suffer in goods or freedom.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Who is it now?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
A poor trader,—Jostein Tamb methinks they called him.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Jostein——?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Dagfinn the Peasant would forbid him to set sail.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Dagfinn, would forbid him, say you?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
He went even now.
GREGORIUS JONSSON.
Pardon, my lord; I must make speed——
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Ay, do even so, my dear lord;—Dagfinn the Peasant is so hasty.
[GREGORIUS JONSSON _hastens out to the right along with the
remainder of the company; only_ EARL SKULE _and_ BISHOP
NICHOLAS _are left behind in the hall._
EARL SKULE.
[_Walks up and down in deep thought; he seems suddenly to awaken;
looks round him, and says:_] How still it has become here of a
sudden!
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The King has gone.
EARL SKULE.
And every one has followed him.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
All, save us.
EARL SKULE.
It is a great thing to be King.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Tentatively._] Are you fain to try it, Earl?
EARL SKULE.
[_With a serious smile._] I _have_ tried it; every night that brings
me sleep makes me King of Norway.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Dreams forbode.
EARL SKULE.
Ay, and tempt.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Not you, surely. In bygone days, that I could understand—but now,
when you hold a third part of the kingdom, rule as the first man in
the land, and are the Queen’s father——
EARL SKULE.
Now most of all—now most of all.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Hide nothing! Confess; for verily I can see a great pain is gnawing
you.
EARL SKULE.
Now most of all, I say. _This_ is the great curse that lies upon my
whole life: to stand so near to the highest,—with an abyss between.
One leap, and on the other side are the kingship, and the purple
robe, the throne, the might, and all! I have it daily before my
eyes—but can _never_ reach it.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
True, Earl, true.
EARL SKULE.
When they made Guthorm Sigurdsson king, I was in the full strength
of my youth. It was as though a voice cried aloud within me: Away
with the child,—I am the man, the strong man!—But Guthorm was the
king’s son; there yawned an abyss between me and the throne.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
And you dared not venture——
EARL SKULE.
Then Erling Steinvæg was chosen by the Slittungs. The voice cried
within me again: Skule is a greater chieftain than Erling Steinvæg!
But I must needs have broken with the Birchlegs,—_that_ was the
abyss that time.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
And Erling became king of the Slittungs, and after of the Ribbungs,
and still you waited!
EARL SKULE.
I waited for Guthorm to die.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
And Guthorm died, and Inge Bårdsson, your brother, became king.
EARL SKULE.
Then I waited for my brother’s death. He was sickly from the first;
every morning, when we met at holy mass, I would cast stolen glances
to see whether his sickness increased. Every twitch of pain that
crossed his face was as a puff of wind in my sails, and bore me
nearer to the throne. Every sigh he breathed in his agony sounded to
me like an echoing trumpet-blast, like a herald from afar,
proclaiming that the throne should soon be mine. Thus I tore up by
the roots every thought of brotherly kindness; and Inge died, and
Håkon came—and the Birchlegs made _him_ king.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
And you waited.
EARL SKULE.
Methought help must come from above. I felt the kingly strength
within me, and I was growing old; every day that passed was a day
taken from my life-work. Each evening I thought: To-morrow will come
the miracle that shall strike him down and set me in the empty seat.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Small was then Håkon’s power; he was no more than a child; it wanted
but a single step from you—yet you took it not.
EARL SKULE.
That step was hard to take; it would have parted me from my kindred
and from all my friends.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Ay, _there_ is the rub, Earl Skule,—_that_ is the curse which has
lain upon your life. You would fain know every way open at need,—you
dare not break all your bridges and keep only one, defend it alone,
and on it conquer or fall. You lay snares for your foe, you set
traps for his feet, and hang sharp swords over his head; you strew
poison in every dish, and you spread a hundred nets for him; but
when he walks into your toils you dare not draw the string; if he
stretch out his hand for the poison, you think it safer he should
fall by the sword; if he is like to be caught in the morning, you
hold it wiser to wait till eventide.
EARL SKULE.
[_Looking earnestly at him._] And what would _you_ do, my lord
Bishop?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Speak not of me; my work is to build up thrones in this land, not to
sit on them and rule.
EARL SKULE.
[_After a short pause._] Answer me _one_ thing, my honoured lord,
and answer me truly. How comes it that Håkon can follow the straight
path so unflinchingly? He is no wiser, no bolder than I.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Who does the greatest work in this world?
EARL SKULE.
The greatest man.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
But who is the greatest man?
EARL SKULE.
The bravest.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
So says the warrior. A priest would say: the man of greatest
faith,—a philosopher: the most learned. But it is none of these,
Earl Skule. The most fortunate man[31] is the greatest man. It is
the most fortunate man that does the greatest deeds—he whom the
cravings of his time seize like a passion, begetting thoughts he
himself cannot fathom, and pointing to paths which lead he knows not
whither, but which he follows and must follow till he hears the
people shout for joy, and, looking around him with wondering eyes,
finds that he has done a mighty deed.
EARL SKULE.
Ay, there is that unswerving confidence in Håkon.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
It is that which the Romans called _ingenium_.—Truly I am not strong
in Latin; but ’twas called _ingenium_.
EARL SKULE.
[_Thoughtfully at first, afterwards in increasing excitement._] Is
Håkon made of other clay than mine? The fortunate man?—Ay, does not
everything thrive with him? Does not everything shape itself for the
best, when he is concerned? Even the peasants note it; they say the
trees bear fruit twice, and the fowls hatch out two broods every
summer, whilst Håkon is king. Vermeland, where he burned and
harried, stands smiling with its houses built afresh, and its
cornlands bending heavy-eared before the breeze. ’Tis as though
blood and ashes fertilised the land where Håkon’s armies pass; ’tis
as though the Lord clothed with double verdure what Håkon has
trampled down; ’tis as though the holy powers made haste to blot out
all evil in his track. And how easy has been his path to the throne!
He needed that Inge should die early, and Inge died: his youth
needed to be watched and warded, and his men kept watch and ward
around him; he needed the ordeal, and his mother arose and bore the
iron for him.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_With an involuntary outburst._] But we—we two——!
EARL SKULE.
We?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
You, I would say—what of you?
EARL SKULE.
The right is Håkon’s, Bishop.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The right is his, for he is the fortunate one; ’tis even the summit
of fortune, to have the right. But by what right has Håkon the
right, and not you?
EARL SKULE.
[_After a short pause._] There are things I pray God to save me from
thinking upon.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Saw you never an old picture in Christ’s Church at Nidaros? It shows
the Deluge rising and rising over all the hills, so that there is
but one single peak left above the waters. Up it clambers a whole
household, father and mother and son and son’s wife and
children;—and the son is hurling the father back into the flood to
gain better footing; and he will cast his mother down and his wife
and all his children, to win to the top himself;—for up there he
sees a handsbreadth of ground, where he may keep life in him for an
hour.—That, Earl, that is the saga of wisdom, and the saga of every
wise man.
EARL SKULE.
But the right!
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The son _had_ the right. He had strength, and the craving for
life;—fulfil your cravings and use your strength: so much right has
every man.
EARL SKULE.
Ay, for that which is good.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Words, empty words! There is neither good nor evil, up nor down,
high nor low. You must forget such words, else will you never take
the last stride, never leap the abyss. [_In a subdued voice and
insistently._] You must not hate a party or a cause for that the
party or the cause would have _this_ and not _that_; but you must
hate every man of a party for that he is against you, and you must
hate all who gather round a cause, for that the cause clashes with
your will. Whatever is helpful to you, is good—whatever lays
stumbling-blocks in your path is evil.
EARL SKULE.
[_Gazing thoughtfully before him._] What has that throne not cost
me, which yet I have not reached! And what has it cost Håkon, who
now sits in it so securely! I was young, and I forswore my sweet
secret love to ally myself with a powerful house. I prayed to the
saints that I might be blessed with a son—I got only daughters.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
Håkon will have sons, Earl—mark that!
EARL SKULE.
[_Crossing to the window on the right._] Ay—all things fall out to
Håkon’s wish.
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
And you—will you suffer yourself to be outlawed from happiness all
your life through? Are you blind? See you not that it is a stronger
might than the Birchlegs that stands at Håkon’s back, and furthers
all his life-work? He has help from above, from—from those that are
against you—from those that have been your enemies, even from your
birth! And will you bow before these your enemies? Rouse you, man;
straighten your back! To what end got you your masterful soul?
Bethink you that the first great deed in all the world was done by
one who rose against a mighty realm!
EARL SKULE.
Who?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
The angel who rose against the light!
EARL SKULE.
And was hurled into the bottomless pit——
BISHOP NICHOLAS.
[_Wildly._] And founded there a kingdom, and made himself a king, a
mighty king—mightier than any of the ten thousand—earls up yonder!
[_Sinks down upon a bench beside the table._
EARL SKULE.
[_Looks long at him._] Bishop Nicholas, are you something more or
something less than a man?
BISHOP NICHOLAS.