Go more of you thither.
[Some of the men go.
Margrete.
Håkon, where is—Duke Skule?
Håkon.
He has made for the Uplands.
Margrete.
He lives, then!—My husband, may I thank God that he lives?
Håkon.
[In painful agitation.] Hear me, Margrete: you have been a faithful wife to me, you have followed me through good hap and ill, you have been unspeakably rich in love;—now must I cause you a heavy sorrow; I am loath to do it; but I am King, therefore must I——