s standing outside the doors of her cave and wore a skin
kirtle and was of a blackish hue. She carried a long faggot in her
hand and cried:

'This will I contribute to your burning, Brynhild. It would have been
better if you had been burned while you were still alive, before
you were guilty of getting such a splendid man as Sigurth Fafnisbani
slain. I was always friendly to him and therefore I shall attack you
in a reproachful song which will make you hated by everybody who hears
what you have done.'

After that Brynhild and the ogress chanted to one another.

The ogress sang as follows:

Thou shalt not be suffered to pass through my courts
With their pillars of stone in my mansion drear,--
Better far wert thou busied at home with thy needle!
Not thine is the husband thou followest here.

Inconstant soul, why comest thou hither?
From the land of the Romans why visit'st thou me?
Full many a wolf hast thou made be partaker
Of the life-blood of men who were butchered by thee!

Then cried Brynhild:

Upbraid me no more from thy rock bound dwelling
For battles I fought in the days of old.--
Thou wilt not be deemed to be nobler of nature
Than I, wheresoever our story is told!

The Ogress:

In an evil hour, O Buthli's daughter,
In an evil hour wert thou brought to birth.--
The Sons of Gjuki thou gavest to slaughter,
Their noble dwellings thou rased'st to earth.

Brynhild:

A true account, if thou carest to hearken,
O thou lying soul, will I tell to thee;--
How empty of love and o'ershadowed by falsehood
The life that the Gjukings had destined for me!

Atli's daughter was I, yet the monarch bold-hearted
Assigned me a home neath the shade of the oak.
But twelve summers old, if thou carest to hearken,
Was this maid when her vows to the hero she spoke.

Hjalmgunnar the Old, of the Gothic nation,
Great chief, on the pathway to Hell did I speed;
And victory granted to Auth's young brother;
Then Othin's dread fury was roused at my deed.

Then a phalanx of bucklers did Othin set round me
On Skatalund's heights, shields crimson and white,--
Bade only that prince break the slumber that bound me
Who knew naught of terror, nor shrank from the fight.

And flames high towering and fiercely raging
Round my Southern hall did he set in a ring:
None other was destined to pass through in safety
Save the hero who tre