"Aye, more than to be High King of Denmark, for she is no woman, but a goddess." At this saying my mother laughed, and Athalbrand, who knew Iduna when she did not seem a goddess, called me a fool.

Then they talked, while I stood trembling with hope and fear.
"He's but a second son," said Athalbrand.
"I have told you there is land enough for both of them, also the gold that came with his mother will be his, and that's no small sum," answered Thorvald.
"He's no warrior, but a skald," objected Athalbrand again; "a silly half-man who makes songs and plays upon the harp." "Songs are sometimes stronger than swords," replied my father, "and, after all, it is wisdom that rules.

One brain can govern many men; also, harps make merry music at a feast.

Moreover, Olaf is brave enough.

How can he be otherwise coming of the stock he does ?" "He is thin and weedy," objected Athalbrand, a saying that made my mother angry.
"Nay, lord Athalbrand," she said; "he is tall and straight as a dart, and will yet be the handsomest man in these parts." "Every duck thinks it has hatched out a swan," grumbled Athalbrand, while with my eyes I implored my mother to be silent.
Then he thought for awhile, pulling at his long forked beard, and said at last: "My heart tells me no good of such a marriage.