To him Laufeia’s crafty son:
“She comes not for our chief too late;
She’ll rue the sport; his grasp alone
Has power her limbs to dislocate:
In ancient runes hath she not read,
How on the giant’s isle of rock,
’Midst a vast female troop he sped,
And made them feel his hammer’s shock?
“’Twas sport to see him deal such blows
On those fierce virgins; none unscathed