Margrete.
Ay, she was too dear to you
Håkon.
And I am King. Farewell then, Margrete! You are so young yet; but next summer shall our bridal be,—and from that hour I swear to keep you by my side in all seemly faith and honour.
Margrete.
[Smiles sadly.] Ay, 'twill be long, I know, ere you send me away. Håkon. [Brightly.] Send you away? That will I never do. Margrete. [With tears in her eyes.] No, that Håkon does only to those who are too dear to him. [She goes towards the entrance door. Håkon gazes thoughtfully after her.
Lady Ragnhild.
[From the right.] The King and the Earl tarry here so long! My fears are killing me;—Margrete, what has the King said and done?
Margrete.
Oh, much, much! Last of all, he chose a thane and a Queen.
Lady Ragnhild.
You, Margrete!
Margrete.
[Throws her arms round her mother's neck.] Yes!