y perils of the War-god than to yield to the soft allurements of
Love. What a love for his king, must we suppose, burned in this warrior!
For he might have excused his absence by feigning not to have known; but
he thought it better to expose his life to manifest danger than save it
for pleasure. As he went away, his mistress asked him how aged a man
she ought to marry if she were to lose him? Then Hjalte bade her come
closer, as though he would speak to her more privately; and, resenting
that she needed a successor to his love, he cut off her nose and made
her unsightly, punishing the utterance of that wanton question with a
shameful wound, and thinking that the lecherousness of her soul ought to
be cooled by outrage to her face. When he had done this, he said he left
her choice free in the matter she had asked about. Then he went quickly
back to the town and plunged into the densest of the fray, mowing down
the opposing ranks as he gave blow for blow. Passing the sleeping-room
of Bjarke, who was still slumbering, he bade him wake up, addressing him
as follows:

"Let him awake speedily, whoso showeth himself by service or avoweth
himself in mere loyalty, a friend of the king! Let the princes shake off
slumber, let shameless lethargy begone; let their spirits awake and warm
to the work; each man's own right hand shall either give him to glory,
or steep him in sluggard shame; and this night shall be either end or
vengeance of our woes.

"I do not now bid ye learn the sports of maidens, nor stroke soft
cheeks, nor give sweet kisses to the bride and press the slender
breasts, nor desire the flowing wine and chafe the soft thigh and cast
eyes upon snowy arms. I call you out to the sterner fray of War. We need
the battle, and not light love; nerveless languor has no business here:
our need calls for battles. Whoso cherishes friendship for the king,
let him take up arms. Prowess in war is the readiest appraiser of men's
spirits. Therefore let warriors have no fearfulness and the brave no
fickleness: let pleasure quit their soul and yield place to arms. Glory
is now appointed for wages; each can be the arbiter of his own renown,
and shine by his own right hand. Let nought here be tricked out with
wantonness: let all be full of sternness, and learn how to rid them of
this calamity. He who covets the honours or prizes of glory must not be
faint with craven fear, but go forth to meet the brave, nor whiten at
the cold steel."

A