THORFINN. Orm is a poet!
ORM. Thorfinn must have swallowed too much sea water when he cried for help to have such a bitter tongue.
THORFINN. Take care of your own tongue, Orm.
[Valgerd with drinking horns.]
VALGERD. Here, foster brothers, I drink to your oath of friendship and better luck for your next voyage.
THORFINN. I forbid you to speak of that again. [They drink. Thorfinn takes horn hastily from mouth and asks] Where is the child?
VALGERD [Troubled]. She is in the loft.
THORFINN. Call her hither.
VALGERD. She's not well.
THORFINN [Looks sharply at Valgerd]. She shall—come!