heroes in she bade.

“’Tis custom of our castle none
   A faulchion shall unsheath,
I cannot bear the sight of one
   Since good King Sigfred’s death.”

“’Twas I that slew King Sigfred
   E’en with my own right hand,
’Twas I that slew King Ottelin
   And him could few withstand.

“’Twas then I lost my acton good,
   And trusty courser grey,
In yonder ice-cold winters
   When besieging Troy we lay.”

Then up the hall she led them
   To a hundred of her train;
With naked faulchions brandished, they
   Confront the heroes twain.

“If any knight among ye be
   Who eat here of my bread,
Will dare to slay my brother,
   I will give him gold so red.”

When heard that Folker Spillemand
   He would no longer wait;
His sword from out the sheath he drew,
   Down shivered fell the gate.

When he had bared the mighty blade
   He felt at heart so light;
He slew full fifteen warriors
   With blows of manly might.

“Ha, Ha,” said Folker Spillemand,
   “Right goes my fiddle now”—
And then the Hero Hogen slew
   Full twenty blow by blow.

It was the proud Dame Grimhild
   With wrath well nigh was wode:
“Much better had ye stayed at home
   Than come to our abode.

“Here will a hundred widows be
   ’Ere ye this fight have done.”
Then answered Hero Hogen:
   “’Twas by thyself begun.”

It was the Hero Hogen,
   His helmet lifted he:
“All under my cuirass of steel
   I burn so furiously.

“I’m weary, weary to the heart,
   And weak in verity;
O would to God in heaven is
   A horn of wine had I.”

He lifted up his vizor,
   Of human blood a draught
He took—“In nomine Domini”
   The Hero Hogen quaffed.

See, there the knights of Grimhild
   Lie slaughtered every one;
And that has Hero Hogen,
   And valiant Folker done.

“God bless thee, Folker Spillemand,
   Who here a corse dost lie,
Full well and without treachery
   Thy faulchion thou didst ply.

“Full four and twenty fell for one,
   Their death from him they found;
He slew them like a warrior,
   Ere sank he on the ground.

“Ah, brother, by my heart beloved,
   Thy coming cost me dear;
How woeful is my destiny
   That I should lose thee here.

“And if to me is granted
   To live another day,
My sister this shall expiate,
   I her will burn or slay.”

The evil fate’s o’ertaken her.
   She’s paid for all her ill;
King Hogen’s son caused Grimhild
   To starve within the hill.

GRIMHILD’S VENGEANCE
Song the Third

O, where will ye find kempions
   So bold and strong of hand,
As Hogen and his brother dear,
   Sir Folker Spillemand?

Forward stepped she, Bodild,
   Hero Hogen’s mother, crying:
“Methought the gallant coursers all
   Were either dead or dying.

“And I possess full wit enow
   That vision to explain;
If to the Hvenish land ye go
   There’ll many a man be slain.”

Out rode the valiant brothers where
   The river rolled its