"
And the third:
"A high hall is there
Reared upon Hindfell,
Without all around it
Sweeps the red flame aloft.
Wise men wrought
That wonder of halls
With the unhidden gleam
Of the glory of gold."
Then the fourth sang:
"Soft on the fell
A shield-may sleepeth
The lime-trees' red plague
Playing about her:
The sleep-thorn set Odin
Into that maiden
For her choosing in war
The one he willed not.
"Go, son, behold
That may under helm
Whom from battle
Vinskornir bore,
From her may not turn
The torment of sleep.
Dear offspring of kings
In the dread Norns' despite."
Then Sigurd ate some deal of Fafnir's heart, and the remnant he
kept. Then he leapt on his horse and rode along the trail of the
worm Fafnir, and so right unto his abiding-place; and he found it
open, and beheld all the doors and the gear of them that they
were wrought of iron: yea, and all the beams of the house; and it
was dug down deep into the earth: there found Sigurd gold
exceeding plenteous, and the sword Rotti; and thence he took the
Helm of Awe, and the Gold Byrny, and many things fair and good.
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