Then said the victor: "I do not wish to slay a swordless foe. If you wish, let us strive as yeomen, man to man, without weapons."
So they wrestled breast to breast as two bears trying their strength, or as wave breaking against wave. The firm earth trembled, and the great oaks scarce could endure the shock.
But Frithiof proved the stronger, and at length brought proud Atle to the ground. Angrily he said: "If my good sword were at my hand, through thy body would I plunge it, thou black-beard!"
"Go bring it! Who'll prevent thee?" cried the brave Atle. "Here will I lie if that will content thee. All must Valhal see; I, to-day; thou, perhaps, to-morrow!"
Then Frithiof fetched the gleaming Angurvadel, but the good sword harmed not the noble foe. Frithiof struck the sand with the blade, for he admired the courage of the brave Atle.
As friends Frithiof and Atle then entered the palace of Angantyr. Everything seemed new and beautiful to Frithiof. Instead of planks well matched, leather embroidered in gold covered the walls. No rough hearthstone littered the centre of the hall, but a marble fireplace was built up against the side. In the windows were fitted panes of glass, and a key secured the door.
Here were no wooden torches as light of the feast, but waxen candles gleamed brightly in their silver sconces. The roasted stag gracing the table had gold bands on his hoofs, and flowers wreathed his horns.
Three steps the earl descended, saying to Frithiof: "Come sit by me, brave son of Thorsten."
Then was Thorsten's praise chanted by the singers, and his brave deeds were sung in the old Norse tongue.
The earl asked much about his friends of long ago. Frithiof answered wisely and kindly, and all the warriors cheered him loudly. Soon he spoke of the errand that brought him from his own land. Angantyr listened kindly but replied: