This page has been validated.
248
SONGS FROM THE EDDA.
Then spake Erp
Yet once again
Mock spake the prince
As he sat on his steed:
“Fool’s deed to show
The way to a dastard!”
“Bold beyond measure,”
Quoth they, “is the base-born!”

Out from the sheath
Drew they the sheath-steel,
And the glaives’ edges played
For the pleasure of hell;
By the third part they minished
The might that they had,
Their young kin they let lie
A-cold on the earth.

Then their fur-cloaks they shook
And bound fast their swords,
In webs goodly woven
Those great ones were clad;
Young they went o’er the fells
Where the dew was new-fallen
Swift, on steeds of the Huns,
Heavy vengeance to wreak.

Forth stretched the ways,
And an ill way they found,
Yea, their sister’s son[1]
Hanging slain upon tree—

  1. Randver, the son of their sister’s husband.