. And, not to lack a pretext for his journey, he gave
himself out as a fighting-maid of Hakon, saying that he took an embassy
from him to Sigar. And when he was taken to bed at night among the
handmaids, and the woman who washed his feet were wiping them, they
asked him why he had such hairy legs, and why his hands were not at all
soft to touch, he answered:

"What wonder that the soft hollow of my foot should harden, and that
long hairs should stay on my shaggy leg, when the sand has so often
smitten my soles beneath, and the briars have caught me in mid-step?

"Now I scour the forest with leaping, now the waters with running. Now
the sea, now the earth, now the wave is my path.

"Nor could my breast, shut in bonds of steel, and wont to be beaten with
lance and missile, ever have been soft to the touch, as with you who are
covered by the mantle or the smooth gown.

"Not the distaff or the wool-frails, but spears dripping from the
slaughter, have served for our handling."

Signe did not hesitate to back up his words with like dissembling, and
replied that it was natural that hands which dealt more in wounds than
wools, and in battle than in tasks of the house should show the hardness
that befitted their service; and that, unenfeebled with the pliable
softness of women, they should not feel smooth to the touch of others.
For they were hardened partly by the toils of war, partly by the habit
of seafaring. For, said she, the warlike handmaid of Hakon did not
deal in woman's business, but had been wont to bring her right hand
blood-stained with hurling spears and flinging missiles. It was no
wonder, therefore, if her soles were hardened by the immense journeys
she had gone; and that, when the shores she had scoured so often had
bruised them with their rough and broken shingle, they should toughen
in a horny stiffness, and should not feel soft to the touch like theirs,
whose steps never strayed, but who were forever cooped within the
confines of the palace. Hagbard received her as his bedfellow, under
plea that he was to have the couch of honour; and, amid their converse
of mutual delight, he addressed her slowly in such words as these:

"If thy father takes me and gives me to bitter death, wilt thou
ever, when I am dead, forget so strong a troth, and again seek the
marriage-plight?

"For if the chance should fall that way, I can hope for no room for
pardon; nor will the father who is to avenge his sons spare or have