Sira Viliam and several of the Bishop's men enter.
Duke Skule.
[Shakes the Bishop's arm.] You risk Norway's happiness through hundreds of years, mayhap its greatness to all eternity! Bishop Nicholas. To all eternity! [Triumphantly.] Perpetuum mobile!
Duke Skule.
By your soul's salvation,—where is Trond the Priest's letter?
Bishop Nicholas.
[Calls.] Seven more masses, Viliam! Duke Skule. [Beside himself.] The letter! The letter! Bishop Nicholas. [Smiling in his death-agony.] 'Twas it you burned, good Duke! [Falls back on the couch and dies.
Duke Skule.
[With an involuntary cry, starts backwards and covers his face with his hands.] Almighty God!
The Monks.
[Rushing in flight from the chapel.] Save you, all who can!
Some Voices.
The powers of evil have broken loose!
Other Voices.
There rang a loud laugh from the corner!—A
