he must neither be led nor lured. There is so much to be mended in Norway.
[Goes on writing.
Vegard Væradal.
[Softly to Bishop Nicholas.] 'Tis by <g>my</g> counsel he deals thus with Inga, his mother.
Bishop Nicholas.
I knew your hand in it at once.
Vegard Væradal.
But now one good turn deserves another.
Bishop Nicholas.
Wait. I will keep my promise.
Håkon.
[Gives the parchment to Ivar Bodde.] Fold it together and bear it to her yourself, with many loving greetings
Ivar Bodde.
[Who has glanced at the parchment.] My lord—you write here—"to-day"
!Håkon.
The wind is fair for a southward course.
Dagfinn.
[Slowly.] Bethink you, my lord King, that she has lain all night on the altar-steps in prayer and fasting.
Ivar Bodde.
And she may well be weary after the ordeal.