Towards Birting on they rode,
Birting’s city they rode through;
Then they formed them in a ring,
And made Vidrik chief anew.
On the down their flag they pitched,
Therein you a lion may spy;
Now must many an innocent man
Bid to life a long good-bye!
Long they fought with sword and bow,
Each essayed his best to do;
From their brows burst ruddy sweat,
From their bucklers fire out flew.
It was then the Vendel King,
From his helm a glance he cast:
“Say, who leads that band to-day,
That my people fall so fast?”
Straight replied the little page,
To the King rode next of all:
“Sir, ’tis Vidrik Verlandson,
Sits upon his courser tall.”
Answered one of the King’s kemps,
Who had been in many fields:
“Yes, ’tis Vidrik Verlandson,
Mimmering [13] in his hand he wields.”
Thereto made the King reply,
As another glance he throws:
“’Gainst the shield I ill shall fight
Which the tongs and hammer shows.
“’Gainst the shield I ill shall fight
Which the tongs and hammer bears,
This day I am doomed to die,
For fierce Vidrik no one spares.
“Heathen wight, and Christian knight,
I would fight with glad and fain;
Only not with Verland’s son,
For from him I scathe must gain.”
Ha! Hurrah! the Vendel King
In his steed the rowels drove;
Desperate he at Vidrik went,
Desperate he to fell him strove.