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96
FRITHIOF’S SAGA 96
Downwards she cast her eyes, and blushed, and her form
in the round shields
Blushed like the maiden herself; this gladdened each
banqueting comrade.
Rich was the house: wherever the eye could turn, there
did meet it
Cellars and chests well filled, and granaries heaped with
provisions.
Many a treasure, too, it contained, the booty of warfare:
Golden, with deep-carved Runes, and silver wondrously
fashioned.
Three things there were prized above all the rest of the
riches:
First of the three was the mighty sword, an heirloom
ancestral,
Angurvadel, so was it named, and brother of Lightning;
Far in the east it was forged, as ancient legends related,
Tempered by toil of dwarfs: Bjorn Blaetand the first who
had borne it.
But Bjorn paid as a forfeit at once both his life and his
weapon,
Southward in Groninga-sund, when he fought with the
powerful Vifell.
Vifell was father to Viking. There dwelt then, feeble and
aged,
At Ullaroker, a king with an only beautiful daughter.
Lo! there came from the depths of the woods a giant
tremendous,
Greater in height than stature of man, and hairy and cruel,
Demanding a champion to fight, or else both daughter and
kingdom.
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