SIGURD. Now speak to him, Dagny.
DAGNY (approaching). Father, it is cold out here; a storm is
gathering to-night.
ORNULF. Hm; heed it not; the mound is close-heaped and crannyless;
they lie warm in there.
DAGNY. Ay, but thou——
ORNULF. I? I am not cold.
DAGNY. Nought hast thou eaten today; wilt thou not go in? The supper-board stands ready.
ORNULF. Let the supper-board stand; I have no hunger.
DAGNY. But to sit here so still—trust me, thou wilt take hurt of
it; thou art ever wont to be stirring.
ORNULF. True, true; there is somewhat that crushes my breast; I
cannot draw breath.
(He hides his face in his hands. A pause. DAGNY seats herself
beside him.)