Jon (peering into the gloom). I don't know. There's only one post that holds the roof, and it may snap at any moment.
Sveinungi. It won't. It is drift-timber, which never rots.
Jon. And besides, it stands aslant; the slightest push would make it go with a crash, and there would be no getting out alive if the heavy roof came down.
Sveinungi. You are afraid. Is there anybody else who dares?
Jorunn. You cannot ask any man to go in there.
Sveinungi (to Jon). It would take you but a moment to bring out those few things. There's my tall chest—you know where it stands—and my old clock; you can unscrew it from the wall with your knife.
Jon. I am not going in there.
Sveinungi. Get drunk and brag—that you know how to do, all of you. (Starts into the ruins.)
Jon. Is master going in there?
Sveinungi. Do you think I will let my things be ruined, because you are a coward?