whose death he had spoken falsely. Hadding, when
he heard this, wished to pay like thanks to his worshipper, and, not
enduring to survive his death, hanged himself in sight of the whole
people.

BOOK TWO

HADDING was succeeded by FRODE, his son, whose fortunes were many and
changeful. When he had passed the years of a stripling, he displayed
the fulness of a warrior's prowess; and being loth that this should
be spoilt by slothfulness, he sequestered his mind from delights
and perseveringly constrained it to arms. Warfare having drained his
father's treasury, he lacked a stock of pay to maintain his troops, and
cast about diligently for the supplies that he required; and while
thus employed, a man of the country met him and roused his hopes by the
following strain:

"Not far off is an island rising in delicate slopes, hiding treasure in
its hills and ware of its rich booty. Here a noble pile is kept by the
occupant of the mount, who is a snake wreathed in coils, doubled in many
a fold, and with tail drawn out in winding whorls, shaking his manifold
spirals and shedding venom. If thou wouldst conquer him, thou must use
thy shield and stretch thereon bulls' hides, and cover thy body with
the skins of kine, nor let thy limbs lie bare to the sharp poison;
his slaver burns up what it bespatters. Though the three-forked tongue
flicker and leap out of the gaping mouth, and with awful yawn menace
ghastly wounds remember to keep the dauntless temper of thy mind; nor
let the point of the jagged tooth trouble thee, nor the starkness of the
beast, nor the venom spat from the swift throat. Though the force of
his scales spurn thy spears, yet know there is a place under his lowest
belly whither thou mayst plunge the blade; aim at this with thy sword,
and thou shalt probe the snake to his centre. Thence go fearless up to
the hill, drive the mattock, dig and ransack the holes; soon fill thy
pouch with treasure, and bring back to the shore thy craft laden."

Frode believed, and crossed alone to the island, loth to attack the
beast with any stronger escort than that wherewith it was the custom for
champions to attack. When it had drunk water and was repairing to its
cave, its rough and sharp hide spurned the blow of Frode's steel. Also
the darts that he flung against it rebounded idly, foiling the effort
of the thrower. But when the hard back yielded not a whit, he noted the
belly heedfully, and its softness gave entrance to the