[8]. “Thou wouldst strike at Atli | by the slaying of Erp
And the killing of Eitil; | thine own grief was worse;
So should each one wield | the wound-biting sword
That another it slays | but smites not himself.”
[a]9]. Then did Sorli speak out, | for wise was he ever:
“With my mother I never | a quarrel will make;
Full little in speaking | methinks ye both lack;
What askest thou, Guthrun, | that will give thee no tears?
[10]. “For thy brothers dost weep, | and thy boys so sweet,
Thy kinsmen in birth | on the battlefield slain;