When Halfdan conquered these, and when the eighth day had been reached with an equal increase in the combatants and in the victory, he laid low eleven who attacked him at once.  Hildiger, seeing that his own record of honours was equalled by the greatness of Halfdan’s deeds could not bear to decline to meet him any longer.  And when he felt that Halfdan had dealt him a deadly wound with a sword wrapped in rags, he threw away his arms, and, lying on the earth, addressed his brother as follows: 

“It is pleasing to pass an hour away in mutual talk; and, while the sword rests, to sit a little on the ground and while away the time by speaking in turn, and keep ourselves in good heart.  Time is left for our purpose; our two destinies have a different lot; one is surely doomed to die by a fatal weird, while triumph and glory and all the good of living await the other in better years.  Thus our omens differ, and our portions are distinguished.  Thou art a son of the Danish land, I of the country of Sweden.  Once, Drota thy mother had her breast swell for thee; she bore me, and by her I am thy foster-brother.  Lo now, there perishes a righteous offspring, who had the heart to fight with savage spears; brothers born of a shining race charge and bring death on one another; while they long for the height of power, they lose their days, and, having now received a fatal mischief in their desire for a sceptre, they will go to Styx in a common death.  Fast by my head stands my Swedish shield, which is adorned with (as) a fresh mirror of diverse chasing, and ringed with layers of marvellous fretwork.  There a picture of really hues shows slain nobles and conquered champions, and the wars also and the notable deed of my right hand.  In the midst is to be seen, painted in bright relief, the figure of my son, whom this hand bereft of his span of life.  He was our only heir, the only thought of his father’s mind, and given to his mother with comfort from above.  An evil lot, which heaps years of ill-fortune on the joyous, chokes mirth in mourning, and troubles our destiny.  For it is lamentable and wretched to drag out a downcast life, to draw breath through dismal days and to chafe at foreboding.  But whatsoever things are bound by the prophetic order of the fates, whatsoever are shadowed in the secrets of the divine plan, whatsoever are foreseen and fixed in the course of the destinies, no change of what is transient shall cancel these things.”

When he had thus spoken, Halfdan condemned Hildiger for sloth in avowing so late their bond of brotherhood; he declared he had kept silence that he might not be thought a coward for refusing to fight, or a villain if he fought; and while intent on these words of excuse, he died.  But report had given out among the Danes that Hildiger had overthrown Halfdan.  After this, Siwar, a Saxon of very high birth, began to be a suitor for Gurid, the only survivor of the royal blood among the Danes.  Secretly she preferred Halfdan to