(85)
     “There was dew from the wound smitten deeply
     That drained from the stroke of the sword-edge;
     There was red on the weapon I wielded
     In the war with the glorious and gallant:
     Yet not where the broadsword,—the blood wand,—
     Was borne by the lords of the falchion,
     But low in the straw like a laggard,
     O my lady, dishonoured I die!”

He said that his will was to give Thorgils his brother all he had,—the goods he owned and the host he led; for he would like best, he said, that his brother should have the use of them.

So then Cormac died. Thorgils became captain over the host, and was long time in viking.

And so ends the story.