Dagny.
[Softly and imploringly.] Foster-sister, by any love thou hast ever borne me, stir not up strife!
Hiördis.
[Laughing.] Jests must pass at the feast-board, if the merriment is to thrive.
Gunnar.
[Who has been talking softly to Thorolf.] Thou art a brave lad! [Hands him a sword which hangs beside the high-seat.] Here, Thorolf, here is a good gift for thee. Wield it well, and let us be friends.
Hiördis.
Beware how thou givest away thy weapons, Gunnar; men may say thou dost part with things thou canst not use!
Thorolf.
[Who has meanwhile examined the sword.] Thanks for the gift, Gunnar; it shall never be drawn in an unworthy cause.