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Helga.
Will they beat him, mother?
A Lad.
Let us rather taunt him with all his lies!
Another.
Kick him out of the company.
A Third.
Spit in his eyes.
A Fourth.
[To the Smith.]
You're not backing out, smith?
The Smith.
[Flinging away his jacket.]
The jade shall be slaughtered!
Solveig's Mother.
[To Solveig.]
There, you can see how that windbag is thought of.
Åse.
[Coming up with a stick in her hand.]
Is that son of mine here? Now he's in for a drubbing!
Oh! how heartily I will dang him!
The Smith.
[Rolling up his shirt-sleeves.]
That switch is too light for a carcase like his
