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boiling with dreadful rage, they engage each other. Their strokes are impetuously redoubled, till at length the king falls, covered with wounds; and his limbs float in his own blood. At that instant, the bright daughters of Destiny invite him to enter the palace of Odin.
Thus fell Charles, in fight of the exulting and rapacious wolves: when Grymer ran furiously through the opposing battalions, and uttered bitter cries amid the swords of his enemies; while Grunder vaunts to have snatched the victory out of the hands of his foes, and to have cut off the king and count Eric with the sword. Perceiving Grymer, he exclaims, “Thou alone remainest to enter the lists with me. Revenge the cause of thy friends: come and let us fight in single combat: it is now thy turn to feel the keenness of my sword.” Immediately their sabres hang dreadful in the air, like dark and threatning clouds. Grymer’s weapon falls like a thunder-bolt. Dreadful is the encounter: their swords furiously strike; they are soon bathed in gore. At length Grunder is covered with wounds: he sinks amidst a deluge of blood. Grymer gives a dreadful shout of triumph, and with his envenomed sword, cleaves the casque of his enemy, hews his armour in pieces, and
