fitted me—for taking the high notes—for singing with a woman's voice at the great church-festivals. And yet they up yonder claim of me—the half-man—what they have a right to claim only of those whom they have in all things fitted for their life-work! There have been times when I fancied such a claim might be just; I have lain here on my sick-bed crushed by the dread of doom and punishment. Now it is over; my soul has fresh marrow in its bones; I have not sinned; it is I that have suffered wrong; I am the accuser!
Duke Skule.
[Softly.] My lord—the letter! You have little time left.
Håkon.
Think of your soul, and humble you!
Bishop Nicholas.
A man's life-work is his soul, and my life-work still shall live upon the earth. But you, King Håkon, you should beware; for as Heaven has stood against <g>me</g>,and reaped harm for its reward, so are you standing against the man who holds the country's welfare in his hand
Håkon.
Ha—Duke, Duke! Now I see the bent of this meeting!
Duke Skule.
[Vehemently, to the Bishop.] Not a word more of this!
Bishop Nicholas.
[To Håkon.] He will stand against you so long
