orehead
was high and smooth, his lips full and red, his eyes steady and
wide-open, and all his face joyous with the thought of the fame of his
deeds, and the coming battle with a foeman whom the Markmen knew not yet.

He was tall and wide-shouldered, but so exceeding well fashioned of all
his limbs and body that he looked no huge man. He was a man well beloved
of women, and children would mostly run to him gladly and play with him.
A most fell warrior was he, whose deeds no man of the Mark could equal,
but blithe of speech even when he was sorrowful of mood, a man that knew
not bitterness of heart: and for all his exceeding might and valiancy, he
was proud and high to no man; so that the very thralls loved him.

He was not abounding in words in the field; nor did he use much the
custom of those days in reviling and defying with words the foe that was
to be smitten with swords.

There were those who had seen him in the field for the first time who
deemed him slack at the work: for he would not always press on with the
foremost, but would hold him a little aback, and while the battle was
young he forbore to smite, and would do nothing but help a kinsman who
was hard pressed, or succour the wounded. So that if men were dealing
with no very hard matter, and their hearts were high and overweening, he
would come home at whiles with unbloodied blade. But no man blamed him
save those who knew him not: for his intent was that the younger men
should win themselves fame, and so raise their courage, and become high-
hearted and stout.

But when the stour was hard, and the battle was broken, and the hearts of
men began to fail them, and doubt fell upon the Markmen, then was he
another man to see: wise, but swift and dangerous, rushing on as if shot
out by some mighty engine: heedful of all, on either side and in front;
running hither and thither as the fight failed and the fire of battle
faltered; his sword so swift and deadly that it was as if he wielded the
very lightening of the heavens: for with the sword it was ever his wont
to fight.

But it must be said that when the foemen turned their backs, and the
chase began, then Thiodolf would nowise withhold his might as in the
early battle, but ever led the chase, and smote on the right hand and on
the left, sparing none, and crying out to the men of the kindred not to
weary in their work, but to fulfil all the hours of their day.

For thuswise would he say and this was a wo