Is it so with the skald’s thoughts too?
Jatgeir.
Ay, lord; no song is born by daylight; it may be written down in the sunshine; but it makes itself in the silent night.
King Skule.
Who gave you the gift of sorrow, Jatgeir?
Jatgeir.
She whom I loved.
King Skule.
She died, then.
Jatgeir.