And he will make for Tyr, I know,
A hand of iron, fit to wield
Or glaive or mace i’ th’ bloody field:
What foes will dare the chief environ,
Whose hand and glaive are both of iron?”
Thus said, he left in haste the hall,
Much pitied by the Disar all.
They thought: “O what a valiant youth!
Thor’s fame he will eclipse, forsooth.”
But Gerda’s thoughts alone on Frey