n me trust in my own
feet. Why mock and jeer with insolent speech at him whom thou shouldst
have offered to guide upon his way? Why give to dishonour my deeds of
old, which deserve the memorial of fame? Why requite my service with
reproach? Why pursue with jeers the old man mighty in battle, and put
to shame my unsurpassed honours and illustrious deeds, belittling my
glories and girding at my prowess? For what valour of thine dost thou
demand my sword, which thy strength does not deserve? It befits not the
right hand or the unwarlike side of a herdsman, who is wont to make his
peasant-music on the pipe, to see to the flock, to keep the herds in the
fields. Surely among the henchmen, close to the greasy pot, thou dippest
thy crust in the bubbles of the foaming pan, drenching a meagre slice
in the rich, oily fat, and stealthily, with thirsty finger, licking the
warm juice; more skilled to spread thy accustomed cloak on the ashes, to
sleep on the hearth, and slumber all day long, and go busily about the
work of the reeking kitchen, than to make the brave blood flow with
thy shafts in war. Men think thee a hater of the light and a lover of a
filthy hole, a wretched slave of thy belly, like a whelp who licks the
coarse grain, husk and all.

"By heaven, thou didst not try to rob me of my sword when thrice at
great peril I fought (for?) the son of Ole. For truly, in that array, my
hand either broke the sword or shattered the obstacle, so heavy was the
blow of the smiter. What of the day when I first taught them, to run
with wood-shod feet over the shore of the Kurlanders, and the path
bestrewn with countless points? For when I was going to the fields
studded with calthrops, I guarded their wounded feet with clogs below
them. After this I slew Hame, who fought me mightily; and soon, with the
captain Rin the son of Flebak, I crushed the Kurlanders, yea, or all the
tribes Esthonia breeds, and thy peoples, O Semgala! Then I attacked the
men of Tellemark, and took thence my head bloody with bruises, shattered
with mallets, and smitten with the welded weapons. Here first I learnt
how strong was the iron wrought on the anvil, or what valour the common
people had. Also it was my doing that the Teutons were punished, when,
in avenging my lord, I laid low over their cups thy sons, O Swerting,
who were guilty of the wicked slaughter of Frode.

"Not less was the deed when, for the sake of a beloved maiden, I slew
nine brethren in one fra