thee."

Thormod said, "Take it, if thou canst get it. I have lost that which is
worth more;" and he stretched out his left hand, and Kimbe tried to take
it. But Thormod, swinging his sword, cut off his hand; and it is said
Kimbe behaved no better over his wound than those he had been blaming.

Then Thormod went into the barn; and after he had sung his song there in
praise of his dead king, he went into an inner room, where was a fire,
and water warming, and a handsome girl binding up men's wounds. And he
sat down by the door; and one said to him, "Why art thou so dead pale?
Why dost thou not call for the leech?" Then sung Thormod:

"I am not blooming; and the fair
And slender maiden loves to care
For blooming youths. Few care for me,
With Fenri's gold meal I can't fee;"

and so forth, improvising after the old Norse fashion. Then Thormod got
up and went to the fire, and stood and warmed himself. And the nurse-
girl said to him, "Go out, man, and bring some of the split-firewood
which lies outside the door." He went out and brought an armful of wood
and threw it down. Then the nurse-girl looked him in the face, and said,
"Dreadful pale is this man. Why art thou so?" Then sang Thormod:

"Thou wonderest, sweet bloom, at me,
A man so hideous to see.
The arrow-drift o'ertook me, girl,
A fine-ground arrow in the whirl
Went through me, and I feel the dart