Then sweetly Sigurd thanked them; and through the night he lay Mid dreams of many a matter till the dawn was on the way; Then he shook the sleep from off him, and that dwelling of Kings he left And wended his ways unto Gripir. On a crag from the mountain reft Was the house of the old King builded; and a mighty house it was, Though few were the sons of men that over its threshold would pass: But the wild ernes cried about it, and the vultures toward it flew, And the winds from the heart of the mountains searched every chamber through, And about were meads wide-spreading; and many a beast thereon, Yea some that are men-folk's terror, their sport and pasture won.
So into the hall went Sigurd; and amidst was Gripir set In a chair of the sea-beast's tooth; and his sweeping beard nigh met The floor that was green as the ocean, and his gown was of mountain-gold, And the kingly staff in his hand was knobbed with the crystal cold.
Now the first of the twain spake Gripir: "Hail King with the eyen bright! Nought needest thou show the token, for I know of thy life and thy light. And no need to tell of thy message; it was wafted here on the wind, That thou wouldst be coming to-day a horse in my meadow to find: And strong must he be for the bearing of those deeds of thine that shall be. Now choose thou of all the way-wearers that are running loose in my lea, And be glad as thine heart will have thee and the fate that leadeth thee on, And I bid thee again come hither when the sword of worth is won, And thy loins are girt for thy going on the road that before thee lies; For a glimmering over its darkness is come before mine eyes."
Then again gat Sigurd outward, and adown the steep he ran And unto the horse-fed meadow: but lo, a grey-clad man, One-eyed and seeming-ancient, there met him by the way: And he spake: "Thou hastest, Sigurd; yet tarry till I say A word that shall well bestead thee: for I know of these mountains well And all the lea of Gripir, and the beasts that thereon dwell."
"Wouldst thou have red gold for thy tidings? art thou Gripir's horse-herd then? Nay sure, for thy face is shining like the battle-eager men My master Regin tells of: and I love thy cloud-grey gown. And thy visage gleams above it like a thing my dreams have known."