[Shaking his head.] Sing? Nay, nay; yesterday I could sing; I am too old to-day.
Dagny.
But needs must thou; honourable men were thy sons, one and all; a song must be made of them, and that can none of our kin but thou.
Örnulf.
[Looks inquiringly at Sigurd.] To sing? What thinkest thou, Sigurd?
Sigurd.
Meseems it is but meet; thou must e’en do as she says.
Dagny.
Thy neighbours in Iceland will deem it ill done when the grave-ale is drunk over Örnulf’s children, and there is no song to sing with it. Thou hast ever time enough to follow thy sons.
Örnulf.