Thou hast murdered my brothers | and mail-clad men,
Thou hast murdered all | the men of my race.
[6]. “Gunnar comes not, | Hogni I greet not,
No longer I see | my brothers loved;
My sorrow would Hogni | avenge with the sword,
Now myself for my woes | I shall payment win.
[7]. “Summon Saxi, | the southrons’ king,
For he the boiling | kettle can hallow.” [[468]]
Seven hundred | there were in the hall,
Ere the queen her hand | in the kettle thrust.