And this old woman here, I say,
Reminds me of that act of thine:
Meagre, decrepit, toothless, old,
Can such a witch with Thor contend?”
Then quickly answer’d Thor the bold:
“Enough! here let our quarrel end!”
Now tottering in the hall appears,
Leaning a knotty staff upon,
A woman deep advanced in years;
Her eyes were sunk, her cheek was wan;