Then I put Waske to death, and punished the insolent smith by slashing his hinder parts; and with the sword I slew Wisin, who from the snowy rocks blunted the spears.

Then I slew the four sons of Ler, and the champions of Permland; and then having taken the chief of the Irish race, I rifled the wealth of Dublin; and our courage shall ever remain manifest by the trophies of Bravalla.
Why do I linger?
Countless are the deeds of my bravery, and when I review the works of my hands I fail to number them to the full.

The whole is greater than I can tell.

My work is too great for fame, and speech serves not for my doings." So sang Starkad.

At last, when he found by their talk that Hather was the son of Hlenne, and saw that the youth was of illustrious birth, he offered him his throat to smite, bidding him not to shrink from punishing the slayer of his father.