, and sore they wondered, and they both for speech
did yearn.

First then spake out Sinfiotli: "Sure I had a craft to learn,
And thou hadst a lesson to teach, that I left the dwelling of kings,
And came to the wood-wolves' dwelling; thou hast taught me many things
But the Gods have taught me more, and at last have abased us both,
That of nought that lieth before us our hearts and our hands may be
loth.
Come then, how long shall I tarry till I fashion something great?
Come, Master, and make me a master that I do the deeds of fate."

Heavy was Sigmund's visage but fierce did his eyen glow,
"This is the deed of thy mastery;--we twain shall slay my foe--
And how if the foe were thy father?"--
Then he telleth him Siggeir's tale:
And saith: "Now think upon it; how shall thine heart avail
To bear the curse that cometh if thy life endureth long--
The man that slew his father and amended wrong with wrong?
Yet if the Gods have made thee a man unlike all men,
(For thou startest not, nor palest), can I forbear it then,
To use the thing they have fashioned lest the Volsung seed should die
And unavenged King Volsung in his mound by the sea-strand lie?"

Then loud laughed out Sinfiotli, and he said: "I wot indeed
That Signy is my mother, and her will I help at need:
Is the fox of the King-folk my father, that adder of the brake,
Who gave me never a blessing, and many a cursing spake?
Yea, have I in sooth a father, save him that cherished my life,
The Lord of the Helm of Terror, the King of the Flame of Strife?
Lo now my hand is ready to strike what stroke thou wilt,
For I am the sword of the Gods: and thine hand shall hold the hilt."

Fierce glowed the eyes of King Sigmund, for he knew the time was come
When the curse King Siggeir fashioned at last shall seek him home:
And of what shall follow after, be it evil days, or bliss,
Or praise, or the cursing of all men,--the Gods shall see to this.

_Of the slaying of Siggeir the Goth-king._

So there are those kings abiding, and they think of nought but the day
When the time at last shall serve them, to wend on the perilous way.
And so in the first of winter, when nights grow long and mirk,
They fare unto Siggeir's dwelling and seek wherein to lurk.
And by hap 'twas the tide of twilight, ere th