27. Sit now, Sigurd!—but I must go to sleep—and Fafnir's heart hold to the fire. Of this refection I would fain partake, after that drink of blood.
Sigurd.
28. Thou wentst far off, while I in Fafnir my keen sword reddened. With my strength I strove against the serpent's might, while in the ling thou layest.
Regin.
29. Long hadst thou allowed in the ling to lie that Jotun old, hadst thou the sword not used that I forged for thee, thy keen-edged glave.
Sigurd.
30. Valour is better than might of sword, when foes embittered fight; for a brave man I have ever seen gain victory with a dull sword.
31. For the brave 'tis better than for the timid to join in the game of war; for the joyous it is better than for the sad, let come whatever may.
Sigurd took Fafnir's heart and roasted it on a stick. When he thought it roasted enough, and the blood frothed from it, he touched it with his finger, to try whether it were quite done. He burnt his finger and put it in his mouth; and when Fafnir's heart's blood touched his tongue he understood the language of birds. He heard the eagles chattering among the branches. One eagle said:
38. There sits Sigurd sprinkled with blood; Fafnir's heart at the fire he roasts. Wise methinks were the ring-dispenser, if he the glistening life-pulp ate.