Brand.—We know what has happened, and that Thorolf Bjarnason is dead.
Alf.—'Dog-like on crushed bones he fed, Tan of bark his hide dyed red.'[A]
[Footnote A: Alf's lines are to be understood, so that Thorolf lived like a beggar in his youth, eating crushed bones (of dried fish; the dried fish are beaten with a hammer so as to crush the bones and separate them from the meat), and gnawing the bark of trees. (H. Hermannsson.) The lines are from a stanza made by one Gudmund Asbjarnason on Thorolf Sturlunga, ch. 122.]
Broddi.—Shame on you, Alf, to make mock at Thorolf, now he is dead.
(Enter from the right LADY HELGA, ASBJORN, and SALVOR. HELGA in traveling costume, with a veil with long white tassels. All present are greatly alarmed as they see her.)
Brand.—Lady Helga! Hail, cousin!
Helga.—Hail to all of you! (They bow to her.) What are you about, here, kinsman Brand?
Brand.—I am biding for better weather. But what may be the purpose of your journey?
Helga.—I am on a voyage to inspect our building of ships. In the snowstorm I and Asbjorn lost our way; but a short while ago we saw a fire or a light and turned that way. Now we are come here.
Brand.—How fares Kolbein, your husband?