_Sigurd_.--Great need I thought there was to do so now. The danger in
which was my lady Jorun and you also, sir bishop, and the axe lay before
my feet.

_Botolf_.--Nevermore carry arms, deacon!

_Brand_.--Is Helgi Skaftason still alive? If so, is it not possible that
his deed be atoned for?

_Helga_.--I shall no longer conceal from you, Brand Kolbeinsson, that
Helgi Skaftason will no more dry his axe on the fringe of my veil! In
order now that this our reconciliation be kept well I desire to have
your son Kalf, to foster him up with me.

_Jorun_.--That shall never be, that you train my boy to be a disturber
of the peace.

_Botolf_.--That shall never be; the boy is a hopeful man for a chieftain
and ought to be trained up to love peace and abide by the law.

_Kolbein_.--What punishment would you inflict on her, if she got the
boy?

_Botolf_.--The excommunication of the Holy Church; the Church wants
peace! (_Short silence_.)

_Helga_ (_furiously_).--You stand there still, Alf of Grof; do you still
wish to have a sack pulled over my head?

_Kolbein_.--It will never do that a lout insult a high-born woman with