May be so; there is somewhat that crushes my breast; I cannot draw breath.
[He again hides his face in his hands. A pause. Dagny seats herself beside him.
Dagny.
To-morrow wilt thou make ready thy ship and set forth for Iceland?
Örnulf.
[Without looking up.] What should I do there? Nay, I will to my sons.
Dagny.
[With pain.] Father!
Örnulf.
[Raises his head.] Go in and let me sit here; when the storm has played with me for a night or two, the game will be over, I ween.