upstart--one Amilias, in Burgundy-land--had made a suit of
armor, which, he boasted, no stroke of sword could dint, and
no blow of spear could scratch; and he had sent a challenge
to all other smiths, both in the Rhine country and
elsewhere, to equal that piece of workmanship, or else
acknowledge themselves his underlings and vassals. For many
days had Mimer himself toiled, alone and vainly, trying to
forge a sword whose edge the boasted armor of Amilias could
not foil; and now, in despair, he came to ask the help of
his pupils and apprentices.

"Who among you is skilful enough to forge such a sword?" he
asked.

One after another, the pupils shook their heads. And
Veliant, the foreman of the apprentices, said, "I have heard
much about that wonderful armor, and its extreme hardness,
and I doubt if any skill can make a sword with edge so sharp
and true as to cut into it. The best that can be done is to
try to make another war-coat whose temper shall equal that
of Amilias's armor."

Then the lad Siegfried quickly said, "I will make such a
sword as you want,--a blade that no war-coat can foil. Give
me but leave to try!"

The other pupils laughed in scorn, but Mimer checked them.
"You hear how this boy can talk: we will see what he can do.
He is the king's son, and we know that he has uncommon
talent. He shall make the sword; but if, upon trial, it