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.