You must be with us, my lord!
King Skule.
No, no, no,—you are surest of fortune and victory when I am not there.
Peter.
[Enters from the right; he is in armour.] The townsfolk are ill at ease; they flock together in great masses before the palace.
Bård Bratte.
Unless the King speak to them, they will desert him in the hour of need.
Peter.
Then must he speak to them. [At the door on the left.] Father! The Trönders, your trustiest subjects, will fall away from you if you give them not courage.
King Skule.