Do you understand, Olaf, I mean, Sir Saint, what sort of a story I must tell of you after I have struck?
Do you understand that not only are you about to die, but that infamy will be poured upon your name and that your body will be dragged through the streets and thrown to the dogs with the city offal?
Answer, I say, answer!" "I understand that you must cause these things to be done for your own sake, Augusta, and I do not complain.

Lies matter nothing to me, who journey to the Land of Truth, where there are some whom I would meet again.

Be advised by me.

Strike here, where the neck joins the shoulder, holding the sword slantwise, for there even a woman's blow will serve to sever the great artery." "I cannot.

Kill yourself, Olaf." "A week ago I'd have fallen on the sword; but now, by the rule of our faith, in such a cause I may not.