CHAPTER LXIII. HOW GRETTIR BEGUILED
THORIR OF GARTH WHEN HE WAS NIGH
TAKING HIM.
[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]
[“Now make I no battle-field]
[Grettir.]
“Now make I no battle-field
With the searching stems of shield.
Rife with danger is my day,
And alone I go my way:
Nor shall I go meet, this tide,
Odin's storm, but rather bide
Whatso fate I next may have;
Scarce, then, shalt thou deem me brave.
“Thence where Thorir's company
Thronging ride, I needs must flee;
If with them I raised the din,
Little thereby should I win;
Brave men's clashing swords I shun,
Woods must hide the hunted one;
For through all things, good and ill,
Unto life shall I hold still.”
[“O wise sun of golden stall]
[Grettir.]
“O wise sun of golden stall,
When thy sire comes back to hall,
Thou mayst tell him without sin
This, though little lies therein,
That thou saw'st me ride hereby,
With but two in company,
Past the door of Skeggi's son,
Nigh his hearth, O glittering one.”
