So then the armourer, as he resumed his labour, began again to sing; and the vault rung not only with the strokes of the hammer, but with the glorious deeds of Siegmund and Sigurd. At every interval, however, when he placed the iron in the fire, he changed his music, and sang other words, setting forth how the fierce Hugur had slain his own wife, who was so beautiful and affectionate; and praying that the champion, who was to wield the sword on which he thus laboured, might never behave after such manner. Then he returned to the deeds of Sigurd, and again to those of Hugur, while his arm never rested; and the fierce fire never ceased to glow till the solemn work was ended. At length he took the sword, still red hot, with a long pair of pincers, laid it aside to cool, and, for the first time, spoke with Sir Otto. “If you have aught to communicate or to ask,” said he, “now you may speak freely, without fear of consequences for yourself or for your sword.” “I did not come hither for the sake of talking,” answered Sir Otto, “but only to listen; for old ballads and stories are the very delight of my life. With the deeds of Siegmund you seem to be at an end; and to say the truth, I know them for the most part already. If, however, you would instruct me more particularly as to that story of the great Hugur, I should be sincerely thankful.” “That shall be done right willingly,” said Asmandur; “but first I shall bring a horn of mead; for, in truth, I lack some refreshment; and for you I shall provide a goblet of wine.” So, after he had in due time placed both upon the anvil, he drew in two great cuirasses instead of chairs, and the two champions took their places at their iron table, right cordially and well contented with each other. Thereafter Asmandur begun his narration as follows:--