ROLF Thou! Thou, maiden, here?
FRIDA Oh, help him!
ERIC [With the others’ help, separates the two.] Egil! off!
EGIL A ferret, ho! a ferret, earls; hath scent And sight and hearing—what, for rats? No, no, For wolves!
ROLF [Aside to Eric.] The madness!
YORUL Master, ’tis the wolf. I killed him.
EGIL Killed him? Thou? [Craftily.] What wolf?
YORUL The beast That bit the dwarf.
EGIL Dead; so ’tis dead. Let see! [Taking the pelt from Yorul, he drops it on the hearth.] It should, methinks, be buried too. Thy kill?
YORUL Mine, Egil.