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.
[Smiling.] I am in the state of innocence: I know not good from evil.
Earl Skule.
[Half to himself.] Why did they send me into the world, if they meant not to order it better for me? Håkon has so firm and unswerving a faith in himself—all his men have so firm and unswerving a faith in him——
Bishop Nicholas.
Let it not be seen that you have no such faith in yourself! Speak as though you had it, swear great oaths that you have it—and all will believe you.
Earl Skule.
Had I a son! Had I but a son, to take all the great heritage after me!
Bishop Nicholas.
[Eagerly.] Earl—if you had a son?
Earl Skule.
I have none.
Bishop Nicholas.
Håkon will have sons.
Earl Skule.
[Wringing his hands.] And is king-born!
Bishop Nicholas.
[Rising.] Earl—if he were not so?
Earl Skule.
Has he not proved it? The ordeal——
Bishop Nicholas.
And if he were not—in spite of the ordeal?
Earl Skule.
Do you say that God lied in the issue of the ordeal?
Bishop Nicholas.
What was it Inga of Varteig called upon God to witness?
Earl Skule.
That the child she bore in the eastland, in Borgasyssel, was the son of Håkon Sverresson.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Nods, looks round, and says softly.] And if King Håkon were not that child?
Earl Skule.
[Starts a step backwards.] Great God——! [Controls himself.] It is beyond belief.
Bishop Nicholas.
Hearken to me, Earl Skule. I have lived seventy years and six; it begins to go sharply downhill with me now, and I dare not take this secret with me over yonder——
Earl Skule.
Speak, speak! Is he not the son of Håkon Sverresson?
Bishop Nicholas.
Hear me. It was known to none that Inga was with child. Håkon Sverresson was lately dead, and doubtless she feared Inge Bårdsson, who was then king, and you, and—well, and the Baglers[32] too mayhap. She was brought to bed secretly in the house of Trond the Priest, in Heggen parish, and after nine days she departed homewards; but the child remained a whole year with the priest, she not daring to look to it, and none knowing that it breathed saved Trond and his two sons.
Earl Skule.
Ay, ay—and then?
Bishop Nicholas.
When the child was a year old, it could scarce be kept hidden longer. So Inga made the matter known to Erlend of Huseby—an old Birchleg of Sverre’s days, as you know.
Earl Skule.
Well?
Bishop Nicholas.
He and other chiefs from the Uplands took the child, bore it over the mountains in midwinter, and brought it to the King, who was then at Nidaros.
Earl Skule.
And yet you can say that——?
Bishop Nicholas.
Needless to say, ’twas a dangerous task for a humble priest to rear a king’s child. So soon as the child was born, he laid the matter before one of his superiors in the church, and prayed for his counsel. This his superior bade Trond send the true king’s son with secrecy to a place of safety, and give Inga another, if she or the Birchlegs should afterwards ask for her child.
Earl Skule.
[Indignantly.] And who was the hound that gave that counsel?
Bishop Nicholas.
It was I.
Earl Skule.
You? Ay, you have ever hated the race of Sverre.
Bishop Nicholas.
I deemed it not safe for the king’s son to fall into your hands.
Earl Skule.
But the priest——?
Bishop Nicholas.
Promised to do as I bade.
Earl Skule.
[Seizing him by the arm.] And Håkon is the other child?
Bishop Nicholas.
If the priest kept his promise.
Earl Skule.
If he kept it?
Bishop Nicholas.
Trond the Priest departed the land the same winter that the child was brought to King Inge. He journeyed to Thomas Beckett’s grave, and afterwards abode in England till his death.
Earl Skule.
He departed the land, say you? Then must he have changed the children and dreaded the vengeance of the Birchlegs.
Bishop Nicholas.
Or he did not change the children, and dreaded my vengeance.
Earl Skule.
Which surmise hold you for the truth?
Bishop Nicholas.
Either may well be true.
Earl Skule.
But the priest’s sons of whom you spoke?
Bishop Nicholas.
They went with the crusaders to the Holy Land.
Earl Skule.
And there have since been no tidings of them?
Bishop Nicholas.
Ay, tidings there have been.
Earl Skule.
Where are they?
Bishop Nicholas.
They were drowned in the Greek Sea on the journey forth.
Earl Skule.
And Inga——?
Bishop Nicholas.
Knows nought, either of the priest’s confession or of my counsel.
Earl Skule.
Her child was but nine days old when she left it, you said?
Bishop Nicholas.
Ay, and the child she next saw was over a year——
Earl Skule.
Then no living creature can here bring light! [Paces rapidly to and fro.] Almighty God, can this be true? Håkon—the King—he who holds sway over all this land, not born of royal blood!—And why should it not be like enough? Has not all fortune miraculously followed him?—Why not this also, to be taken as a child from a poor cottar’s hut and laid in a king’s cradle——?
Bishop Nicholas.
Whilst the whole people believes that he is the king’s son——
Earl Skule.
Whilst he himself believes it, Bishop—that is the heart of his fortune, that is the girdle of strength! [Goes to the window.] See how bravely he sits his horse! None rides as he does. His eyes are filled with laughing, dancing sunshine; he looks forth into the day as though he knew himself created to go forward, ever forward. [Turns towards the Bishop.] I am a king’s arm, mayhap a king’s brain as well; but he is the whole King.
Bishop Nicholas.
Yet no king after all, mayhap.
Earl Skule.
Mayhap no king after all.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Lays his hand on the Earl’s shoulder.] Hearken to me, Earl Skule——
Earl Skule.
[Still looking out.] There sits the Queen. Håkon speaks gently to her; she turns red and white with joy. He took her to wife because it was wise to choose the daughter of the mightiest man in the land. There was then no thought of love for her in his heart;—but it will come; Håkon has fortune with him. She will shed light over his life——[Stops, and cries out in wonder.] What is this?
Bishop Nicholas.
What?
Earl Skule.
Dagfinn the Peasant bursts violently through the crowd. Now he is giving the King some tidings.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Looking out from behind the Earl.] Håkon seems angered—does he not? He clenches his fist——
Earl Skule.
He looks hitherward—what can it be?
[About to go.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Holding him back.] Hearken to me, Earl Skule—there may yet be one means of winning assurance as to Håkon’s right.
Earl Skule.
One means, you say?
Bishop Nicholas.
Trond the Priest, ere he died, wrote a letter telling his whole tale, and took the sacrament in witness of its truth.
Earl Skule.
And that letter—for God’s pity’s sake—where is it?
Bishop Nicholas.
You must know that——[Looks towards the door.] Hush!—here comes the King.
Earl Skule.
The letter, Bishop—the letter!
Bishop Nicholas.
The King is here.
[Håkon enters, followed by his Guard and many guests. Immediately afterwards, Margrete appears; she seems anxious and alarmed, and is about to rush up to the King, when she is restrained by Lady Ragnhild, who, with other ladies, has followed her. Sigrid stands somewhat apart, towards the back. The Earl’s men appear uneasy, and gather in a group on the right, where Skule is standing, but some way behind him.
Håkon.
[In strong but repressed excitement.] Earl Skule, who is king in this land?
Earl Skule.
Who is king?
Håkon.
That was my question. I bear the kingly title, but who holds the kingly might?
Earl Skule.
The kingly might should dwell with him who has the kingly right.
Håkon.
So should it be; but is it so?
Earl Skule.
Do you summon me to judgment?
Håkon.
That do I; for that right I have toward every man in the land.
Earl Skule.
I fear not to answer for my dealings.
Håkon.
Well for us all if you can. [Mounts a step of throne-daïs, and leans upon one arm of the throne.] Here stand I as your king, and ask. Know you that Jon, Earl of Orkney, has risen against me?
Earl Skule.
Yes.
Håkon.
That he denies to pay me tribute?
Earl Skule.
Yes.
Håkon.
And is it true that you, Sir Earl, have this day sent him a letter?
Earl Skule.
Who says so?
Ivar Bodde.
That do I.
Dagfinn.
Jostein Tamb dared not deny to carry it, since it bore the King’s seal.
Håkon.
You write to the King’s foes under the King’s seal, although the King knows nought of what is written?
Earl Skule.
So have I done for many a year, with your good will.
Håkon.
Ay, in the days of your regency.
Earl Skule.
Never have you had aught but good thereby. Earl Jon wrote to me praying that I would mediate on his behalf; he offered peace, but on terms dishonourable to the King. The war in Vermeland has weighed much upon your mind; had this matter been left to you, Earl Jon had come too lightly off. I can deal better with him.
Håkon.
’Twas our will to deal with him ourself.—And what answer made you?
Earl Skule.
Read my letter.
Håkon.
Give it me!
Earl Skule.
I deemed you had it.
Dagfinn.
Nay, you know better than that. Gregorius Jonsson was too swift of foot; when we came on board, the letter was gone.
Earl Skule.
[Turns to Gregorius Jonsson.] Sir Baron, give the King the letter.
Gregorius Jonsson.
[Coming close to him, uneasily.] Hearken Earl——!
Earl Skule.
What now?
Gregorius Jonsson.
[Softly.] Bethink you, there were sharp words in it concerning the King.
Earl Skule.
My words I shall answer for. The letter!
Gregorius Jonsson.
I have it not.
Earl Skule.
You have it not!
Gregorius Jonsson.
Dagfinn the Peasant was at our heels. I snatched the letter from Jostein Tamb, tied a stone to it——
Earl Skule.
Well?
Gregorius Jonsson.
It lies at the bottom of the fiord.
Earl Skule.
You have done ill—ill.
Håkon.
I await the letter, Sir Earl.
Earl Skule.
I cannot give it you.
Håkon.
You cannot!
Earl Skule.
[Advancing a step towards the King.] My pride brooks not to be put to shifts, as you and your men would call it——
Håkon.
[Controlling his rising wrath.] And so——?
Earl Skule.
In one word—I will not give it you!
Håkon.
Then you defy me!
Earl Skule.
Since so it must be—yes, I defy you.
Ivar Bodde.
[Forcibly.] Now, my lord King, I scarce think you or any man can now need further proof!
Dagfinn.
Nay, now I think we know the Earl’s mind.
Håkon.
[Coldly, to the Earl.] You will hand the Great Seal to Ivar Bodde.
Margrete.
[Rushes with clasped hands towards the daïs, where the King is standing.] Håkon, be a kind and gracious husband to me!
[Håkon makes an imperative gesture towards her; she hides her face in her veil, and goes up towards her mother again.
Earl Skule.
[To Ivar Bodde.] Here is the Great Seal.
Ivar Bodde.
This was to be the last evening of the feast. It has ended in a heavy sorrow for the King; but sooner or later it needs must come, and methinks every true man must rejoice that it has come.
Earl Skule.
And I think every true man must feel bitter wrath to see a priest thus make mischief between us Birchlegs;—ay, Birchlegs, I say; for I am every whit as good a Birchleg as the King or any of his men. I am of the same stock, the stock of Sverre, the kingly stock—but you, Priest, you have built up a wall of distrust around the King, and shut me out from him; that has been your task this many a year.
Paul Flida.
[Enraged, to the bystanders.] Earl’s men. Shall we abide this longer?
Gregorius Jonsson.
[Steps forward.] No, we can and will no more abide it. ’Tis time to say it plainly—none of the Earl’s men can serve the King in full trust and love, so long as Ivar Bodde comes and goes in the palace, and makes bad blood between us.
Paul Flida.
Priest! I bid you look to life and limb, wheresoever I meet you—in the field, on shipboard, or in any unconsecrated house.
Many Earl’s Men.
I too! I too! You are an outlaw to us!
Ivar Bodde.
God forbid that I should stand between the King and so many mighty chieftains.—Håkon, my gracious lord, my soul bears me witness that I have served you in all faithfulness. True, I have warned you against the Earl; but if I have ever done him wrong, I pray God forgive me. Now have I no more to do in the palace; here is your Seal; take it into your own hands; there it should have rested long ago.
Håkon.
[Who has come down from the daïs.] You shall remain!
Ivar Bodde.
I cannot. If I did, my conscience would gnaw and rend me night and day. Greater evil can no man do in these times than to hold the King and the Earl asunder.
Håkon.
Ivar Bodde, I command you to remain!
Ivar Bodde.
If the Holy King Olaf should rise from his silver shrine to bid me stay, still I needs must go. [Places the Seal in the King’s hand.] Farewell, my noble master! God bless and prosper you in all your work!
[Goes out through the crowd, to the right.
Håkon.
[Gloomily, to the Earl and his men.] There have I lost a trusty friend for your sakes; what requital can you offer to make good that loss?
Earl Skule.
I offer myself and all my friends.
Håkon.
I almost fear ’twill not suffice. Now must I gather round me all the men I can fully trust. Dagfinn the Peasant, let a messenger set out forthwith for Halogaland; Vegard Væradal must be recalled.
Dagfinn.
[Who has been standing somewhat towards the back, in conversation with a man in travelling dress who has entered the hall, approaches and says with emotion:] Vegard cannot come, my lord.
Håkon.
How know you that?
Dagfinn.
I have even now had tidings of him.
Håkon.
What tidings?
Dagfinn.
That Vegard Væradal is slain.
Many Voices.
Slain!
Håkon.
Who slew him?
Dagfinn.
Andres Skialdarband, the Earl’s friend.
[A short pause; uneasy whispers pass among the men.
Håkon.
Where is the messenger?
Dagfinn.
[Leading the man forward.] Here, my lord King.
Håkon.
What caused the slaying?
The Messenger.
That no man knows. The talk fell upon the Finnish tribute, and on a sudden Andres sprang up and gave him his death-wound.
Håkon.
Had there been quarrels between them before?
The Messenger.
Ever and anon. Andres would often say that a wise councillor here in the south had written to him that he should be as rock and flint toward Vegard Væradal.
Dagfinn.
Strange! Ere Vegard set forth he told me that a wise councillor had said he should be as rock and flint toward Andres Skialdarband.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Spitting.] Shame upon such councillors.
Håkon.
We will not question more closely from what root this wrong has grown. Two faithful souls have I lost this day. I could weep for Vegard, but ’tis no time for weeping; it must be life for life. Sir Earl, Andres Skialdarband is your sworn retainer; you offered me all service in requital for Ivar Bodde. I take you at your word, and look to you to see that this misdeed be avenged.
Earl Skule.
Of a truth, bad angels are at work between us to-day. On any other of my men, I would have suffered you to avenge the murder——
Håkon.
[Expectantly.] Well?
Earl Skule.
But not on Andres Skialdarband.
Håkon.
[Flashing out.] Will you shield the murderer?
Earl Skule.
This murderer I must shield.
Håkon.
And the reason?
Earl Skule.
That none but God in heaven may know.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Softly, to Dagfinn.] I know it.
Dagfinn.
And I suspect it.
Bishop Nicholas.
Say nought, good Dagfinn!
Håkon.
Earl, I will believe as long as I may, that you mean not in good sooth what you have said to me——
Earl Skule.
Were it my own father Andres Skialdarband had slain, he should still go free. Ask me no more.
Håkon.
Good. Then we ourselves must do justice in the matter!
Earl Skule.
[With an expression of alarm.] There will be bloodshed on both sides, my lord King!
Håkon.
So be it; none the less shall the deed be avenged.
Earl Skule.
It shall not be!—It cannot be!
Bishop Nicholas.
Nay, there the Earl is right.
Håkon.
Say you so, my honoured lord?
Bishop Nicholas.
Andres Skialdarband has taken the Cross.
Håkon and Earl Skule.
Taken the Cross!
Bishop Nicholas.
And has already sailed from the land.
Earl Skule.
’Tis well for all of us!
Håkon.
The day wanes; the bridal-feast must now be at an end. I thank you, Sir Earl, for all the honour that has been shown me in these days.—You are bound for Nidaros, as I think?
Earl Skule.
That is my intent.
Håkon.
And I for Viken.—If you, Margrete, choose rather to abide in Bergen, then do so.
Margrete.
Whither you go, I go, until you forbid.
Håkon.
Good; then come with me.
Sigrid.
Now is our kindred spread far abroad. [Kneels to Håkon.] Grant me a grace, my lord King.
Håkon.
Rise, Lady Sigrid; whatever you crave shall be granted.
Sigrid.
I cannot go with the Earl to Nidaros. The nunnery at Rein will soon be consecrated; write to the Archbishop—take order that I be made Abbess.
Earl Skule.
You, my sister?
Håkon.
You will enter a nunnery!
Sigrid.
[Rising.] Since my wedding-night of blood, when the Baglers came and hewed down my bridegroom, and many hundreds with him, and fired Nidaros town at all its corners—since then, it has been as though the blood and flames had dulled and deadened my sight for the world around me. But power was given me to catch glimpses of that which other eyes see not—and one thing I see now: a time of great dread hanging over this land!
Earl Skule.
[Vehemently.] She is sick! Heed her not!
Sigrid.
A plenteous harvest is ripening for him that reaps in the darkness. Every woman in Norway will have but one task now—to kneel in church and cloister, and pray both day and night.
Håkon.
[Shaken.] Is it prophecy or soul-sickness that speaks thus?
Sigrid.
Farewell, my brother—we shall meet once more.
Earl Skule.
[Involuntarily.] When?
Sigrid.
[Softly.] When you take the crown; in the hour of danger,—when you are fain of me in your direst need.
[Goes out to the right, with Margrete, Lady Ragnhild, and the women.
Håkon.
[After a short pause, draws his sword, and says with quiet determination.] All the Earl’s men shall take the oath of fealty.
Earl Skule.
[Vehemently.] Is this your settled purpose? [Almost imploringly.] King Håkon, do not so!
Håkon.
No Earl’s man shall leave Bergen ere he has sworn fealty to the King.
[Goes out with his Guard. All except the Earl and the Bishop follow him.
Bishop Nicholas.
He has dealt hardly with you to-day!
[Earl Skule is silent, and looks out after the King, as though struck dumb.
Bishop Nicholas.
[More loudly.] And mayhap not king-born after all.
Earl Skule.
[Turns suddenly, in strong excitement, and seizes the Bishop by the arm.] Trond the Priest’s confession—where is it?
Bishop Nicholas.
He sent it to me from England ere he died; I know not by whom—and it never reached me.
Earl Skule.
But it must be found!
Bishop Nicholas.
I doubt not but it may.
Earl Skule.
And if you find it, you will give it into my hands?
Bishop Nicholas.
That I promise.
Earl Skule.
You swear it by your soul’s salvation?
Bishop Nicholas.
I swear it by my soul’s salvation!
Earl Skule.
Good; till that time I will work against Håkon, wherever it can be done secretly and unnoted. He must be hindered from growing mightier than I, ere the struggle begins.
Bishop Nicholas.
But should it prove that he is in truth king-born—what then?
Earl Skule.
Then I must try to pray—to pray for humbleness, that I may serve him with all my might, as a faithful chieftain.
Bishop Nicholas.
And if he be not the rightful king?
Earl Skule.
Then shall he give place to me! The kingly title and the kingly throne, host and guard, fleet and tribute, towns and strongholds, all shall be mine!
Bishop Nicholas.
He will betake him to Viken——
Earl Skule.
I will drive him out of Viken!
Bishop Nicholas.
He will establish himself in Nidaros.
Earl Skule.
I will storm Nidaros!
Bishop Nicholas.
He will shut himself up in Olaf’s holy church——
Earl Skule.
I will force the sanctuary——
Bishop Nicholas.
He will fly to the high altar, and cling to Olaf’s shrine——
Earl Skule.
I will drag him down from the altar, though I drag the shrine along with him——
Bishop Nicholas.
But the crown will still be on his head, Earl Skule!
Earl Skule.
I will strike off the crown with my sword!
Bishop Nicholas.
But if it sits too tight——?
Earl Skule.
Then, in God’s name or Satan’s—I will strike off the head along with it!
[Goes out to the right.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Looks out after him, nods slowly, and says:] Ay—ay—’tis in this mood I like the Earl!