Dansberg.I do not hear him. It is bitter chill.
We should be at the gate, but that I feel
As walking in a wood. I think I smell
The ground-ferns and damp mosses, and the scent
Of puff-balls on the rotting trees. Hark there!
I hear the bull-frogs croaking.
Icelin. I hear the bull-frogs croaking.I don’t hear them.
Dansberg.You’re deaf. There are no bull-frogs near the castle.
Icelin.Ah, yes. It is two silly ravens croaking.
Dansberg.Raymond, you say?