It was night: there was a great hall, and fires for men to sit at.
That evening Steingerd came out of her bower, and a maid with her.

Said the maid, "Steingerd mine, let us look at the guests." "Nay," she said, "no need": and yet went to the door, and stepped on the threshold, and spied across the gate.

Now there was a space between the wicker and the threshold, and her feet showed through.

Cormac saw that, and made this song:-- (1) "At the door of my soul she is standing, So sweet in the gleam of her garment: Her footfall awakens a fury, A fierceness of love that I knew not, Those feet of a wench in her wimple, Their weird is my sorrow and troubling, -- Or naught may my knowledge avail me-- Both now and for aye to endure." Then Steingerd knew she was seen.

She turned aside into a corner where the likeness of Hagbard was carved on the wall, and peeped under Hagbard's beard.