Sinfiotli laughed, and answered:  “O’ershort methinks the days
That two kings of war should chaffer like merchants of the men: 
I will come again in the even and look on thy dealings then,
And take the share thou givest.” 
Then he went his ways withal,
And drank day-long in his warship as in his father’s hall;
And came again in the even:  now hath Gudrod shared the spoil,
And throughout that day of summer not light had been his toil: 
Forsooth his heap was the lesser; but Sinfiotli looked thereon,
And saw that a goodly getting had Borghild’s brother won. 
Clean-limbed and stark were the horses, and the neat were fat and
sleek,
And the men-thralls young and stalwart, and the women young and meek;
Fair-gilt was the harness of battle, and the raiment fresh and bright,
And the household stuff new-fashioned for lords’ and earls’ delight. 
On his own then looked Sinfiotli, and great it was forsooth,
But half-foundered were the horses, and a sight for all men’s ruth
Were the thin-ribbed hungry cow-kind; and the thralls both carle and
quean
Were the wilful, the weak, and the witless, and the old and the
ill-beseen;
Spoilt was the harness and house-gear, and the raiment rags of cloth.

    Now Sinfiotli’s men beheld it and grew exceeding wroth,
    But Sinfiotli laughed and answered:  “The day’s work hath been meet: 
    Thou hast done well, war-brother, to sift the chaff from the wheat
    Nought have kings’ sons to meddle with the refuse of the earth,
    Nor shall warriors burden their long-ships with things of nothing
      worth.”

    Then he cried across the sea-strand in a voice exceeding great: 
    “Depart, ye thralls of the battle; ye have nought to do to wait! 
    Old, young, and good, and evil, depart and share the spoil,
    That burden of the battle, that spring and seed of toil. 
    —­But thou king of the greedy heart, thou king of the thievish grip,
    What now wilt thou bear to the sea-strand and set within my ship
    To buy thy life from the slaying?  Unmeet for kings to hear
    Of a king the breaker of troth, of a king the stealer of gear.”

    Then mad-wroth waxed King Gudrod, and he cried:  “Stand up, my men! 
    And slay this wood-abider lest he slay his brothers again!”

    But no sword leapt from its sheath, and his men shrank back in dread;
    Then Sinfiotli’s brow grew smoother, and at last he spake and said: 
    “Indeed thou art very brother of my father Sigmund’s wife: 
    Wilt thou do so much for thine honour, wilt thou do so much for thy
      life,
    As to bide my sword on the island in the pale of the hazel wands? 
    For I know thee no battle-blencher, but a valiant man of thine hands.”