Paul Flida.
Doubt has whispered in every corner from the hour when Håkon the Pretender was borne, a little child, into King Inge's[1] hall.
Gregorius Jonsson.
And last winter it swelled to a roar, and sounded forth over the land, both north and south; I trow every man can bear witness to that.
Håkon.
I myself can best bear witness to it. Therefore have I yielded to the counsel of many faithful friends, and humbled myself as no other chosen king has done for many a day. I have proved my birth by the ordeal, proved my right, as the son of Håkon Sverresson, to succeed to the throne of Norway. I will not now question who fostered the doubt, and made it, as the Earl's kinsman says, swell into a roar; but this I know, that I have suffered bitterly under it. I have been chosen king from boyhood, but little kingly honour has been shown me, even where it seemed I might look for it most securely. I will but remind you of last Palm Sunday in Nidaros,[2] when I went up to the altar to make my offering, and the Archbishop turned away and made as though he saw me not, to escape greeting me as kings are wont to be greeted. Yet such slights I could easily have borne, had not open war been like to break loose in the land; that I must needs hinder.
Dagfinn.
It may be well for kings to hearken to counsels
