XXXIV.

And loud he shouted, "Giant, where dost go? Thou thought'st me doubtless for the bier outlaid; To the right about--without wings thou'rt too slow To fly my vengeance--currish renegade! 'Twas but by treachery thou laid'st me low." The giant his astonishment betrayed, And turned about, and stopped his journey on, And then he stooped to pick up a great stone.