Bjorn and Fridthjof chess were playing
On a board, whose squares displaying
Gold and silver deftly fitted,
Skill and beauty both combined.
Then stepped Hilding in. "Come nigher,"
Fridthjof said, "and sit thee higher
'Till our game shall be completed,--
Foster-father kind."

Hilding answered: "From the palace
I am come to you for solace.
Evil are the times at present,
You are all the people's hope."
Fridthjof said: "The foe encroaches,
Danger, Bjorn, your king approaches;
You can save him by a peasant.--
He is nothing, give him up.

"Fridthjof, anger kings no longer,
Lo, the eagle's young grow stronger;
Ring may thwart, their weak endeavor,
Thou wilt surely find it hard."
"Bjorn, I see you storm the tower.
And in vain your threatening power
'Gainst the castle is; it ever
Safety seeks behind its guard."

"Ing'borg sits in Balder's dwelling,
Grief her constant tears compelling:
She should make thee seize thy armor