“If there be aught this world within
Can make thee cease to moan,
That thou shalt have, e’en if it cost
All, all the gold I own.”
“I know of nought within this world
Can do my sickness good,
Except of Sivard Snareswayne
It be the hated blood.
“And there is nothing in this world
Which can assuage my pain,
Except of Sivard Snareswayne
The head I do obtain.”
“To draw of Sivard Snareswayne
The blood I have no might;
His neck is hard as burnished steel,
No sword thereon will bite.”
“O hark, Sir Nielus, hark to me,
My well beloved lord,
Borrow of him his Adelring,
His famous trusty sword.
“Tell him thou needest it so oft
When thou dost wage a fight,
But soon as ’tis within thy hand
Hew off his head outright.”
It was the bold Sir Nielus then
His mantle puts he on;
To Sivard, his companion true,
To the high hall he’s gone.
“Now hear, O Sivard Snareswayne,
Thy sword unto me lend,
For I unto the field of fight
Full soon my course must bend.”
“My trusty faulchion Adelring
I’ll freely lend to thee;
No man be sure shall thee o’ercome,
However strong he be.
“My trusty faulchion Adelring
To thee I’ll freely yield,
But, oh! beware thee of the tears
Beneath the hilt conceal’d.