Thou shalt not wear it until fighting is forward, and when ye come to the field, sit all alone and then draw it.

Hold the edge toward thee, and blow on it.

Then will a little worm creep from under the hilt.

Then slope thou the sword over, and make it easy for that worm to creep back beneath the hilt." "Here's a tale of tricks, thou warlock!" cried Cormac "Nevertheless," answered Skeggi, "it will stand thee in good stead to know them." So Cormac rode home and told his mother, saying that her will was of great avail with Skeggi.

He showed the sword, and tried to draw it, but it would not leave the sheath.
"Thou are over wilful, my son," said she.
Then he set his feet against the hilts, and pulled until he tore the pouch off, at which Skofnung creaked and groaned, but never came out of the scabbard.
Well, the time wore on, and the day came.