Duke Skule.
Think you I would slay him to-night?
[Goes out to the right.
Sira Viliam.
[Looks after him, shaking his head, while the house-folk bear the body out to the left.] Seven more masses, the Bishop said; I think 'twere safest we should say fourteen. [Follows the others.
A room in the Palace. In the back is the entrance door; in each of the side walls a smaller door; in front, on the right, a window. Hung from the roof, a lamp is burning. Close to the door on the left stands a bench, and further back a cradle, in which the King-child is sleeping; Margrete is kneeling beside the child.
Margrete.
[Rocks the cradle and sings.]
Now roof and rafters blend with
the starry vault on high;
now flieth little Håkon
on dream-wings through the sky.
There mounts a mighty stairway
from earth to God's own land;
there Håkon with the angels
goes climbing, hand in hand.
God's angel-babes are watching
thy cot, the still night through;
God bless thee, little Håkon,
thy mother watcheth too.
