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.