daughter of Ironbeard to wife, if all would comply and be friends with
him in other matters; which was the course resolved on as most
convenient: accept baptism, we; marry Jaernskaegg's daughter, you.
This bargain held on both sides. The wedding, too, was celebrated,
but that took rather a strange turn. On the morning of the
bride-night, Olaf, who had not been sleeping, though his fair partner
thought he had, opened his eyes, and saw, with astonishment, the fair
partner aiming a long knife ready to strike home upon him! Which at
once ended their wedded life; poor Demoiselle Ironbeard immediately
bundling off with her attendants home again; King Olaf into the
apartment of his servants, mentioning there what had happened, and
forbidding any of them to follow her.

Olaf Tryggveson, though his kingdom was the smallest of the Norse
Three, had risen to a renown over all the Norse world, which neither
he of Denmark nor he of Sweden could pretend to rival. A magnificent,
far-shining man; more expert in all "bodily exercises" as the Norse
call them, than any man had ever been before him, or after was. Could
keep five daggers in the air, always catching the proper fifth by its
handle, and sending it aloft again; could shoot supremely, throw a
javelin with either hand; and, in fact, in battle usually throw two
together. These, with swimming, climbing, leaping, were the then
admirable Fine Arts of the North; in all which Tryggveson appears to
have been the Raphael and the Michael Angelo at once. Essentially
definable, too, if we look well into him, as a wild bit of real
heroism, in such rude guise and environment; a high, true, and great
human soul. A jovial burst of laughter in him, withal; a bright,
airy, wise way of speech; dressed beautifully and with care; a man
admired and loved exceedingly by those he liked; dreaded as death by
those he did not like. "Hardly any king," says Snorro, "was ever so