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.