Cnut's folk, when they had the upper hand, liked not to hear
thereof. And then the citizens would speak little among themselves
of their thraldom to the Danes, and much of their welcome to
Ethelred and their own share in the business when the bridge had
been broken. And lastly, it was wrought by an outlander. Truly no
Englishman, whether of Saxon or Danish kin, grudges praise to a
stranger when he has won it well, but Olaf had few to speak for him
after he had gone hence. But I have told what I saw, and think that
it should not be forgotten, for it was a great deed. Men sing the
song that Ottar the scald wrote thereon in Olaf's Norway, and I
think that they will sing it for many an age to come.

We have forgotten that song; but the first time he sang it was at
the great feast in the wide hall of the London merchants' guild
that night, and sorely did the few Danish lords, who sat as
captives among us unwillingly enough, scowl as they listened. But
our folk held their breath lest they should lose aught of either
voice or words of the singer, for they had never heard his like
before, and this is part of what he sang {5}:

"Bold in the battle
Bravest in sword play!
Thou wert the breaker
Of London's broad bridge.
Wild waxed the warfare
When thou gold wonnest
Where the shields splintered
'Neath the stones' crashing--
When the war byrnies broke
Beaten beneath them.