thought of brotherly kindness; and Inge died, and Håkon came—and the Birchlegs made <g>him</g> king.
Bishop Nicholas.
And you waited.
Earl Skule.
Methought help must come from above. I felt the kingly strength within me, and I was growing old; every day that passed was a day taken from my life-work. Each evening I thought: To-morrow will come the miracle that shall strike him down and set me in the empty seat.
Bishop Nicholas.
Small was then Håkon's power; he was no more than a child; it wanted but a single step from you—yet you took it not.
Earl Skule.
That step was hard to take; it would have parted me from my kindred and from all my friends.
Bishop Nicholas.
Ay, <g>there</g> is the rub, Earl Skule,—<g>that</g> is the curse which has lain upon your life. You would fain know every way open at need,—you dare not break all your bridges and keep only one, defend it alone, and on it conquer or fall. You lay snares for your foe, you set traps for his feet, and hang sharp swords over his head; you strew poison in every dish, and you spread a hundred nets for him; but when he walks into your toils you dare not draw the string; if he stretch out his hand for the poison, you think it safer he should fall by
