r.

A certain man, who chanced to be passing by in a cart, saw Starkad
wounded almost all over his body. Equally aghast and amazed, he turned
and drove closer, asking what reward he should have if he were to tend
and heal his wounds. But Starkad would rather be tortured by grievous
wounds than use the service of a man of base estate, and first asked
his birth and calling. The man said that his profession was that of a
sergeant. Starkad, not content with despising him, also spurned him with
revilings, because, neglecting all honourable business, he followed the
calling of a hanger-on; and because he had tarnished his whole career
with ill repute, thinking the losses of the poor his own gains;
suffering none to be innocent, ready to inflict wrongful accusation
upon all men, most delighted at any lamentable turn in the fortunes of
another; and toiling most at his own design, namely of treacherously
spying out all men's doings, and seeking some traitorous occasion to
censure the character of the innocent.

As this first man departed, another came up, promising aid and remedies.
Like the last comer, he was bidden to declare his condition; and he
said that he had a certain man's handmaid to wife, and was doing peasant
service to her master in order to set her free. Starkad refused to
accept his help, because he had married in a shameful way by taking a
slave to his embrace. Had he had a shred of virtue he should at least
have disdained to be intimate with the slave of another, but should have
enjoyed some freeborn partner of his bed. What a mighty man, then, must
we deem Starkad, who, when enveloped in the most deadly perils, showed
himself as great in refusing aid as in receiving wounds!

When this man departed a woman chanced to approach and walk past the
old man. She came up to him in order to wipe his wounds, but was first
bidden to declare what was her birth and calling. She said that she was
a handmaid used to grinding at the mill. Starkad then asked her if she
had children; and when he was told that she had a female child, he told
her to go home and give the breast to her squalling daughter; for he
thought it most uncomely that he should borrow help from a woman of the
lowest degree. Moreover, he knew that she could nourish her own flesh
and blood with milk better than she could minister to the wounds of a
stranger.

As the woman was departing, a young man came riding up in a cart. He saw
the old man, and drew near