Helgi.—Most certainly, indeed! (Exit.)
Botolf (alone).—Bishop Gudmund a saint? Notwithstanding all the slayings and destruction that followed in his wake? Bishop Gudmund a saint, hm! He who used to speak a blessing over mad dogs, with his hands uplifted! Bishop Gudmund a saint, hm! Well, then would the church indeed be victorious over Kolbein the Young and his men.
(Enter KOLBEIN THE YOUNG, HAF, and ASBJORN. They salute the bishop, who returns their greetings.)
Kolbein.—I have come hither, sir bishop, to confer with you.
Botolf.—With whom then do all those your men wish to confer, and what mean the arms you carry into the church?
Kolbein.—Tumult and riot is rife in the district.
Botolf.—But a few days ago I expected to hear of your death, Kolbein, rather than see you here heading a host of men.
Asbjorn.—Does it not suit you, my lord?
Botolf.—I desire the death of no man.
Kolbein.—For a while I was very sick, indeed; but no sooner heard I of the death of my friend Thorolf than all weakness left me, so that now I am a well man again.