t a word; but he took his harp, and smote the strings,
and a sad, wild music filled the room. And he sang of the gods and the
dwarf-folk, and of the deeds that had been in the time long past and
gone. And a strange mist swam before Siegfried's eyes; and so bewitching
were the strains that fell upon his ears, and filled his soul, that he
forgot about his errand, and his master Mimer, and his father Siegmund,
and his lowland home, and thought only of the heart-gladdening sounds.
By and by the music ended, the spell was lifted, and Siegfried turned
his eyes towards the musician. A wonderful change had taken place. The
little old man still stood before him with the harp in his hand; but his
wrinkled face was hidden by a heavy beard, and his thin gray locks were
covered with a long black wig, and he seemed taller and stouter than
before. As Siegfried started with surprise, his host held out his hand,
and said,--

"You need not be alarmed, my boy. It is time for you to know that
Regin and Mimer are the same person, or rather that Mimer is Regin
disguised.[EN#8] The day has come for you to go your way into the world,
and Mimer gives you leave."

Siegfried was so amazed he could not say a word. He took the master's
hand, and gazed long into his deep, bright eyes. Then the two sat down
together, and Mimer, or Regin as we shall now call him, told the prince
many tales of the days that had been, and of his bold, wise forefathers.
And the lad's heart swelled within him; and he longed to be like
them,--to dare and do and suffer, and gloriously win at last. And he
turned to Regin and said,--

"Tell me, wisest of masters, what I shall do to win fame, and to make
myself worthy to rule the fair land which my fathers held."

"Go forth in your own strength, and with Odin's help," answered
Regin,--"go forth to right the wrong, to help the weak, to punish evil,
and come not back to your father's kingdom until the world shall know
your noble deeds."

"But whither shall I go?" asked Siegfried.

"I will tell you," answered Regin. "Put on these garments, which better
befit a prince than those soot-begrimed clothes you have worn so long.
Gird about you this sword, the good Balmung, and go northward. When you
come to the waste lands which border upon the sea, you will find
the ancient Gripir, the last of the kin of the giants. Ask of him a
war-steed, and Odin will tell you the rest."

So, when the sun had risen high above the trees, Siegf