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171 FRITHIOF’S SAGA
"Here’s the tribute; at thy desire
I’ve fetched it o’er the sea;
Take it! and battle by Balder’s fire
For life and death with me.
"Shields on our backs, arms bare and free,
Lest tame our strife be reckoned;
Be the first stroke, as a King, to thee,
Remember, I have the second.
"Glance not, craven, at the door;
In cover I ’ve trapped the fox:
Think upon Framnas—think, still more,
On Ingborg’s golden locks."
So valiant Frithiof spake with scorn,
And carelessly did fling
The purse, from oiF his girdle torn,
At the forehead of the King.
Blood from out his lips there oozed,
Gloom took his sight away;
By his altar, stunned and bruis’d,
The god-descended lay.
"Thine own red gold canst thou not bear,
Basest of Northmen, now ?
Then, shame for Angurvadel’t were
To fell such dross as thou.
"Avaunt, ye priests, with your altar knives,
Pale moonshine princes curst,
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