Earl Skule.
True; I doubted not that Andres Skialdarband would be here.
Håkon.
[Smiling.] And Vegard Væradal too.
Earl Skule.
Ay, Vegard too.
Håkon.
[In jest.] And I trust you would now have received my old friend better than you did seven years ago on Oslo wharf, when you stabbed him in the cheek so that the blade cut its way out.
Earl Skule.
[With a forced laugh.] Ay, the time that Gunnulf, your mother's brother, cut off the right hand of Sira Eiliv, my best friend and counsellor.
Bishop Nicholas.
[Merrily.] And when Dagfinn the Peasant and the men-at-arms set a strong night-watch on the King's ship, saying that the King was unsafe in the Earl's ward?
Håkon.
[Seriously.] Those days are old and forgotten.
Dagfinn.
[Approaching.] Now may we sound the call to the weapon-sports on the green, if so please you, my lord.
Håkon.
Good. To-day will we give up to nought but
