His cheeks were red as lobster's claws,
His eyes were like the dove.
77. Angantyr has do'en him to the high hall,
'Twas the custom in days gone by;
And all in a word did he hail the King
And ask for the maid truly.
78. Angantyr stands on the hall floor,
Offers him greeting there;—
"Now hail be to thee, bold King of Uppsaland,
Give me thy daughter fair!"