Oh, Dagfinn, Dagfinn, have you the heart for that?
Dagfinn.
Else should I ill serve King and land. [To the men.] Lock the gates after me, watch over the child, and open to none until the King be come. [Softly to[to] Skule.] Farewell, Skule Bårdsson—and God grant you a blessed end.
[Goes out by the gate; the Birchlegs close it after him, and go into the chapel.
Lady Ragnhild.
Ay, let Håkon come; I will not loose you; I will hold you straitly and tenderly in my arms, as I never held you before.
Margrete.
Oh, how pale you are—and aged; you are cold.
King Skule.
I am not cold—but I am weary, weary.