Page:Völsunga Saga (1888).djvu/256

Golden girl, hast thou not,
If thou listest to hearken,
In sweet wise from thy hands
The blood of men washen?”

Brynhild.

“Nay, blame me naught,
Bride of the rock-hall,
Though I roved a warring
In the days that were;
The higher of us twain
Shall I ever be holden
When of our kind
Men make account.”

The Giant-woman.

“Thou, O Brynhild,
Budli’s daughter,
Wert the worst ever born
Into the world:
For Giuki’s children
Death hast thou gotten,
And turned to destruction
Their goodly dwelling.”

Brynhild.

“I shall tell thee
True tale from my chariot,
O thou who naught wottest,
If thou listest to wot;