Then she gave unto him a dress so new, With gold and pearls bedight; Every seam on the dress it was With precious stones all bright. Then she gave unto him a horse so good, And therewith a new sell; "And never shalt thou the way inquire, Thy horse will find it well." And it was Ulva, the little Dwarf's daughter, She would show her good-will to the knight; So she gave unto him a spear so new, And therewith a good sword so bright. "And never shalt thou fight a fight, Where thou shalt not the victory gain; And never shalt thou sail on a sea Where thou shalt not the land attain." And it was Thora, the little Dwarf's wife, She wine in a glass for him poured: "Ride away, ride away, now Sir Thynnè, Before the return of my lord." And it was the knight Sir Thynnè, He rideth under the green hill side, There then met him the hill-kings two. As slow to the hill they ride. "Well met! Good day, now Sir Thynnè! Thy horse can well with thee pace; Whither directed is thy course? Since thou'rt bound to a distant place." "Travel shall I and woo; Plight me shall I a flower; Try shall I my sword so good, To my weal or my woe in the stour." "Ride in peace, ride in peace, away, Sir Thynnè, From us thou hast nought to fear; They are coming, the champions from Iseland, Who with thee long to break a spear." And it was the knight Sir Thynnè, He rideth under the green hill side; There met him seven Bernisk champions, They bid him to halt and abide. "And whether shall we fight to-day, For the red gold and the silvér; Or shall we fight together to-day, For both our true loves fair?" And it was the king's sister's son, He was of mood so hastý; "Of silver and gold I have enow, If thou wilt credit me." "But hast thou not a fair true love, Who is called Lady Hermolin? For her it is we shall fight to-day, If she shall be mine or thine." The first charge they together rode, They were two champions so tall; He cut at the king's sister's son, That his head to the ground did fall. Back then rode the champions six, And dressed themselves in fur; Then went into the lofty hall, The aged king before. And it was then the aged king, He tore his gray hairs in woe. "Ye must avenge my sister's son's death; I will sables and martins bestow."[163] Back then rode the champions six, They thought the reward to gain, But they remained halt and limbless; By loss one doth wit obtain.