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 PART OF THE LAY OF SIGRDRIFA (1)
 
 /THE STORY OF THE VOLSUNGS (VOLSUNGA SAGA)/
 
 Now this is my first counsel,
 That thou with thy kin
 Be guiltless, guileless ever,
 Nor hasty of wrath,
 Despite of wrong done--
 Unto the dead good that doeth.
 
 Lo the second counsel,
 That oath thou swearest never,
 But trusty oath and true:
 Grim tormenting
 Gripes troth-breakers;
 Cursed wretch is the wolf of vows.
 
 This is my third rede,
 That thou at the Thing
 Deal not with the fools of folk;
 For unwise man
 From mouth lets fall
 Worser word than well he wotteth.
 
 Yet hard it is
 That holding of peace
 When men shall deem thee dastard,
 Or deem the lie said soothly;
 But woeful is home-witness,
 Unless right good thou gettest it.
 Ah, on another day
 Drive the life from out him,
 And pay the liar back for his lying.
 
 Now behold the fourth rede:
 If ill witch thee bideth,
 Woe-begatting by the way,
 Good going further
 Rather than guesting,
 Though thick night be on thee.
 
 Far-seeing eyes
 Need all sons of men
 Who wend in wrath to war;
 For baleful women
 Bide oft by the highway,
 Swords and hearts to soften.
 
 And now the fifth rede:
 As fair as thou seest
 Brides on the bench abiding,
 Let not love's silver
 Rule over thy sleeping;
 Draw no woman to kind kissing!
 
 For the sixth thing, I rede
 When men sit a-drinking
 Amid ale-words and ill-words,
 Dead thou naught
 With the drunken fight-staves
 For wine stealeth wit from many.
 
 Brawling and drink
 Have brought unto men
 Sorrow sore oft enow;
 Yea, bane unto some,
 And to some weary bale;
 Many are the griefs of mankind.
 
 For the seventh, I rede thee,
 If strife thou raisest
 With a man right high of heart,
 Better fight a-field
 Than burn in the fire
 Within thine hall fair to behold.
 
 The eighth rede that I give thee:
 Unto all ill look thou,
 And hold thine heart from all beguiling;
 Draw to thee no maiden,
 No man's wife bewray thou,
 Urge them not unto unmeet pleasure.
 
 This is the ninth counsel:
 That thou have heed of dead folk Whereso thou findest them a-field;
 Be they sick-dead,
 Be they sea-dead,
 Or come to ending by war-weapons.
 
 Let bath be made
 For such men fordone,
 Wash thou hands and feet thereof,
 Comb their hair and dry them
 Ere the coffin has them;
 Then bid them sleep full sweetly.
 
 This for the tenth counsel:
 That thou give trust never
 Unto oaths of foeman's kin,
 Be'st thou bane of his brother,
 Or hast thou felled his father;
 Wolf in young son waxes,
 Though he with gold be gladdened.
 
 For wrong and hatred
 Shall rest them never,
 Nay, nor sore sorrow.
 Both wit and weapons
 Well must the king have
 Who is fain to be the foremost.
 
 The last rede and eleventh:
 Until all ill look thou.
 And watch thy friends' ways ever
 Scarce durst I look
 For long life for thee, king:
 Strong trouble ariseth now already.
  
        
        
  
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