It was Langben the Giant, then,
Turn’d up the white of his eye;
“O, whence can come this warrior youth,
Who such bold words lets fly?
“But hear, but hear, thou warrior youth;
I will not do battle with thee,
Except thou prove of a knightly race;
So thy lineage tell to me.”
“A handsome smith my father was,
And Verland hight was he:
Bodild they call’d my mother fair;
Queen over countries three:
“Skimming I call my noble steed,
Begot from the wild sea-mare:
Blank [23] do I call my haughty helm,
Because it glitters so fair:
“Skrepping I call my good thick shield;
Steel shafts have furrow’d it o’er:
Mimmering have I nam’d my sword;
’T is harden’d in heroes’ gore:
“And I am Vidrik Verlandson;
For clothes bright iron I wear:
Stand’st thou not up on thy long, long legs,
I’ll pin thee down to thy lair:
“Do thou stand up on thy long, long legs,
Nor look so dogged and grim;
The King holds out before the wood;
Thou shalt yield thy treasure to him.”
“All, all the gold that I possess,
I will keep with great renown;
I’ll yield it at no little horse-boy’s word,
To the best king wearing a crown.”
“So young and little as here I seem,
Thou shalt find me prompt in a fray;
I’ll hew the head from thy shoulders off,
And thy much gold bear away.”
It was Langben the mighty Jutt,
With fury his heart was fir’d;
“Ride hence! ride hence! thou warrior youth,
If of life thou be not tir’d.”