weakling in War, or decked him with a conqueror’s wage?  Valour wins the prize, not sloth, and failure lacks renown.  For one is followed by triumph and honour, the other by an unsightly life or by a stagnant end.  I, who know not which way the issue of this duel inclines, dare not boldly anticipate that as a reward, of which I know not whether it be rightly mine.  For one whose victory is doubtful may not seize the assured reward of the victor.  I forbear, while I am not sure of the day, to claim firmly the title to the wreath.  I refuse the gain, which may be the wages of my death as much as of my life.  It is folly to lay hands on the fruit before it is ripe, and to be fain to pluck that which one is not yet sure is one’s title.  This hand shall win me the prize, or death.”  Having thus spoken, he smote the barbarian with his sword; but his fortune was tardier than his spirit; for the other smote him back, and he fell dead under the force of the first blow.  Thus he was a sorry sight unto the Danes, but the Slavs granted their triumphant comrade a great procession, and received him with splendid dances.  On the morrow the same man, whether he was elated with the good fortune of his late victory, or was fired with the wish to win another, came close to the enemy, and set to girding at them in the words of his former challenge.  For, supposing that he had laid low the bravest of the Danes, he did not think that any of them would have any heart left to fight further with him upon his challenge.  Also, trusting that, now one champion had fallen, he had shattered the strength of the whole army, he thought that naught would be hard to achieve upon which his later endeavours were bent.  For nothing pampers arrogance more than success, or prompts to pride more surely than prosperity.

So Rorik was vexed that the general courage should be sapped by the impudence of one man; and that the Danes, with their roll of victories, should be met presumptuously by those whom they had beaten of old; nay, should be ignominiously spurned; further, that in all that host not one man should be found so quick of spirit or so vigorous of arm, that he longed to sacrifice his life for his country.  It was the high-hearted Ubbe who first wiped off this infamous reproach upon the hesitating Danes.  For he was of great bodily strength and powerful in incantations.  He also purposely asked the prize of the combat, and the king promised him the bracelets.  Then said he:  “How can I trust the promise when thou keepest the pledge in thine own hands, and dost not deposit the gift in the charge of another?  Let there be some one to whom thou canst entrust the pledge, that thou mayst not be able to take thy promise back.  For the courage of the champion is kindled by the irrevocable certainty of the prize.”  Of course it was plain that he had said this in jest; sheer courage had armed him to repel the insult to his country.  But Rorik thought he was tempted by avarice, and was loth to seem as if, contrary to