in the brightness of the countenance.  For an aspect so benign and noble could never have issued from base parentage.  The grace of thy blood makes thy brow mantle with a kindred grace, and the estate of thy birth is reflected in the mirror of thy countenance.  It is no obscure craftsman, therefore, that has finished the portrait of so choice a chasing.  Now therefore turn aside with all speed, seek constantly to depart out of the road, shun encounters with monsters, lest ye yield your most gracious bodies to be the prey and pasture of the vilest hordes.”

But Ragnar was seized with great shame for his unsightly attire, which he thought was the only possible device to disguise his birth.  So he rejoined, “That slaves were not always found to lack manhood; that a strong hand was often hidden under squalid raiment, and sometimes a stout arm was muffled trader a dusky cloak; thus the fault of nature was retrieved by valour, and deficiency in race requited by nobleness of spirit.  He therefore feared the might of no supernatural prowess, save of the god Thor only, to the greatness of whose force nothing human or divine could fitly be compared.  The hearts of men ought not to be terrified at phantoms, which were only awful from their ghastly foulness, and whose semblances, marked by counterfeit ghostliness, were wont for a moment to borrow materiality from the fluent air.  Swanhwid therefore erred in trying, womanlike, to sap the firm strength of men, and to melt in unmanly panic that might which knew not defeat.”

Swanhwid marvelled at the young man’s steadfastness, and cast off the cloud of mist which overshadowed her, dispelling the darkness which shrouded her face, till it was clear and cloudless.  Then, promising that she would give him a sword fitted for diver’s kinds of battle, she revealed the marvellous maiden beauty of her lustrous limbs.  Thus was the youth kindled, and she plighted her troth with him, and proffering the sword, she thus began: 

“King, in this sword, which shall expose the monsters to thy blows, take the first gift of thy betrothed.  Show thyself duly deserving hereof; let hand rival sword, and aspire to add lustre to its weapon.  Let the might of steel strengthen the defenceless point of thy wit, and let spirit know how to work with hand.  Let the bearer match the burden:  and that thy deed may sort with thy blade, let equal weight in each be thine.  What avails the javelin when the breast is weak and faint, and the quivering hands have dropped the lance?  Let steel join soul, and be both the body’s armour!  Let the right hand be linked with its hilt in alliance.  These fight famous battles, because they always keep more force when together; but less when parted.  Therefore if it be joy to thee to win fame by the palm of war, pursue with daring whatsoever is hard pressed by thy hand.”