[25]. So hard she smote | her hands together
That the hero rose up, | iron-hearted:
“Weep not, Guthrun, | grievous tears,
Bride so young, | for thy brothers live.
[26]. “Too young, methinks, | is my son as yet,
He cannot flee | from the home of his foes; [[429]]
Fearful and deadly | the plan they found,
The counsel new | that now they have heeded.
[27]. “No son will ride, | though seven thou hast,
To the Thing as the son | of their sister rides;