338 CHRONICLE OF THE saga vii. went out, of those who were busy about the wounded men. One of them turned to Thormod, looked at him, and said, " Why art thou so dead-pale ? Art thou wounded ? Why dost thou not call for the help of the wound-healers ? Thormod then sang these verses : — " I am not blooming, and the fair And slender girl loves to care For blooming youths — few care for me ; With Finri's meal* I cannot fee. This is the reason why I feel The slash and thrust of Danish steel; And pale and faint, and bent with pain, Return from yonder battle-plain. " Then Thormod stood up and went in towards the fire, and stood there awhile. The young woman said to him, " Go out, man, and bring in some of the split fire-wood which lies close beside the door." He went out and brought in an armful of wood, which he threw down upon the floor. Then the nurse-girl looked him in the face, and said, " Dreadfully pale is this man — why art thou so?" Then Thormod sang : — " Thou wonderest, sweet sprig, at me, A man so hideous to see : Deep wounds but rarely mend the face, The crippling blow gives little grace. The arrow-drift o'ertook me, girl, — A fine-ground arrow in the whirl Went through me, and I feel the dart Sits, lovely girl, too near my heart." The girl said, " Let me see thy wound, and I will bind it." Thereupon Thormod sat down, cast off his clothes, and the girl saw his wounds, and examined that which was in his side, and felt that a piece of iron was in it, but could not find where the iron had gone in. In a stone pot she had stirred together leeks and other herbs, and boiled them, and gave the
- Finri, one of Loke's daughters : her meal was gold.
