Sveinungi. I can't see that there was any need of moving out, but you had your way, Jorunn.
Jorunn. I feel sure that they have done the same on all the other farms. We must be thankful it is summer, so that we can stay outdoors.
Sveinungi. Must we be thankful? So you give thanks that my work is ruined.
Jorunn. We must take what comes, whether good or evil, and trouble may help us to remember all the things we have neglected to give thanks for.
Sveinungi. I don't know but that I have always done my duty. I have built all the sheep-cots; I have fenced in the land and looked after it as best I could. I demand justice of Him up there.
Jorunn (rising). I won't listen to such talk. Did you buy the land from Him, perhaps? And what did you have to pay with that was not His already?
Sveinungi. You needn't mock me. You can walk all over the yard and cut your handful of grass with your scissors wherever you like; it grows thick as wool everywhere, and it's all my work.
Jorunn. Was it you who ruled the hraun for thousands of years so that it did not swallow up the bit of ground you are standing on, which you call yours? Goes into the tent.
Sveinungi. Which I call mine! (Stamping his foot.) It is mine! I've bought the land from Him up there with my work.
(The Servants rise.)