foster-son Half. In him you will bring up a man fit to be a chieftain,
Jorun, though I know not how fit you are for that task.

_Jorun_.--My sons will have to be satisfied with such bringing up as I
am able to give them.

_Helga_,--Which chieftain would you most like to be?

_Kalf_.--Kolbein the Young.

_Helga_.--Older people ought to say that! (_To_ THORGEIR.) But what do
you most like to become, little tot? (THORGEIR _comes up to her_.)

_Thorgeir_.--Like father. (_Puts a finger into his mouth_.)

_Helga_.--Do you want to be a priest?

_Thorgeir_.--I want to be like my papa. (HELGA _gazes at him; he retires
behind his mother, concealing his face in her gown, and cries_.)

_Jorun_.--You must not make my boy cry, lady.

_Helga_--You may keep that boy yourself. But give me your boy Kalf along
to Flugumyr, for that would further reconciliations. I wish to be the
mother of a chieftain.

_Kalf_.--Will you give me sword and helmet, and shield, then?

_Helga_.--Yes, my boy, a shield with an eagle on it.