"Well done, my sword! Lie still and dream of great deeds to come! Now will we go home over the foaming billows."
So in anger did the noble Frithiof leave the presence of King Helge, and return to Framness, the house of his fathers.
In the Country of King Ring
Far in the north lived the good King Ring. His words were wise and kind. In his land no war cast its dark shadow and everywhere in his kingdom blossomed fair flowers. Justice and right clasped hands, and peace lived with plenty in the golden fields.
For thirty years King Ring had ruled in the Northland. The people loved him well and named him in their evening prayers. His good queen had died, and long had he mourned for her. But the people begged him to marry again.
At last the old king said: "King Bele often visited me and spake of his fair daughter. Her would I choose for my bride. Take gold and jewels rare from my coffers. Have minstrels go and with their songs win for me the fair Ingeborg."
In gay company they went to Helge's court and asked him for his sister Ingeborg. Here they remained three days, singing and feasting. On the fourth morning they asked for a reply from King Helge for their king.
