The Cuckold’s Ultimatum
“Now do one of two things: you kill him, or I’ll take him for my own husband and we’ll drive you away. He spoke seductively to me.” […]
“Now do one of two things: you kill him, or I’ll take him for my own husband and we’ll drive you away. He spoke seductively to me.” […]
“But if this suit is tried at the Assembly and an objection is raised on the score that you gave Thorgeir the first blow, and therefore may plead neither your own suit nor that of others, then I shall answer this point by saying that I declared you inviolable at the Thingskalar Assembly.” […]
“Lunging at Paris, he grabbed his horsehair crest, swung him round, started to drag him into Argive lines and now the braided chin-strap holding his helmet tight was gouging his soft throat – Paris was choking, strangling.” […]
“He knew that his opponents were hunger-starved and gluttonous; and that, overjoyed to find such excellent quarters, they would drink to excess, and fall into a death-like sleep.” […]
“Her husband replied, ‘It’s about time that you reveal the sort of woman that you really are. Where is the man whose voice was booming just now? I expect you think he sounds better than I do.'” […]
“Gabriotto did not reply, but simply lay there gasping for breath and perspiring all over, and shortly thereafter he gave up the ghost.” […]
“They see the Normans meanwhile pressing on from behind, but there was no escape; they go along the banks of the river, seeking for fords and crossings, throwing away their arms and plunder, and cursing their having brought so much. They go straggling and stumbling over the ditches, helping each other forward, the Normans pursuing and sparing no one, till all those who had not crossed the bridge were either taken prisoners, killed, or drowned.” […]
“In case of need, they will ride a good ten days’ journey without provision and without making a fire, living only on the blood of their horses; for every rider pierces a vein of his horse and drinks the blood.” […]
“You are ugly and evil, and your name will be struck from the list warriors. Your fate is decided now; the woman who bore you will weep for you.” […]
“Then one of them drew his sword to cut off his head, but straightway his right hand stiffened while suspended in the act of striking, nor could he draw it back. So he let go of the sword and dropped it upon the ground.” […]
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