Now I
shall lay in the Norse language the interdict on Kolbein and Helga.

_Helga_.--Say what you please, bishop. But you will have to revoke your
interdict before you go from hence.

_Botolf_.--That shall I never. No priest shall ever say service for
you, and, you shall have no lasting dwelling place but hell. (_Holds the
candles with the flame downward_.)

_Helga_.--Haf, you stand near enough to the bishop! Gag him with the end
of your spear.

_Kolbein_ (_jumps up without letting go of_ BRODDI).--Hear me, sir
bishop! Desist from laying the interdict on me, because not far is the
time when I shall need the mercy of God and his Holy Church. Lady Helga
has been insulted in such fashion as no high-born lady would endure. But
I, for my part, shall be ready to make atonement for the insult offered
by her to you and the Holy Church now for the first time.

_Botolf_.--Easy it is to reach an agreement with me, Kolbein, if this
larger matter which you have been warring about so long could be settled
to-night to the satisfaction of all.

_Kolbein_.--Then hear my decision: For the murder of Thorolf Bjarnason.
I decree a fine of eighteen marks silver, and also that those men who
may have fallen as part of the vengeance for Thorolf shall not be atoned
for.

_Brand_.--Agreed, kinsman Kolbein; the sum you demand for the slaying of
Thorolf shall be paid.

_Helga_.--How may this be, my husband? You have promised me a man's life
before this feud would be ended.

_Kolbein_.--Have I not demanded an exceedingly high compensation for
Thorolfs death?

_Helga_.--But Thorolf was slain in a pledged truce.

_Broddi_.--That truce was made under compulsion.

_Kolbein_.--The man's life you stipulated for yourself you have chosen
and taken yourself, or else, where is Helgi Skaftason?

(HELGA _is silent_.)

_Brand_.--Helgi Skaftason! Where is he?

_Botolf_.--His axe is there! (DEACON SIGURD _looks around_.) Are you
still carrying weapons, Deacon Sigurd? Clercs are not permitted to bear
arms.

_Sigurd_.--Great need I thought there was to do so now. The danger in
which was my lady Jorun and you also, sir bishop, and the axe lay before
my feet.

_Botolf_.--Nevermore carry arms, deacon!

_Brand_.--Is Helgi Skaftason still alive? If so, is it not possible that
his deed be atoned for?

_Helga_.--I shall no longer conceal from you, Brand Kolbeinsson, that
Helgi Skaftason will no more dry his axe on the fringe of my veil! In
order