Warm the blood falls on the wide plain.
Then Sigmund sang:
This day I have tied a strong knot
For the churlish clown that’s sitting
By the home-hearth; ’tis no falsehood
That we play him now a fine trick.
The Earl sang:
On this feast-day of St. Lawrence,
Tie we knots for this fine fellow.
Tired I came to this nice corner,