<i>Of Thorstein Dromond's Arms, and what he deemed they might do</i>.
Now Grettir was with Thorstein for the rest of the winter and on into
the spring; and it befell one morning, as those brothers, Thorstein
and Grettir, lay in their sleeping-loft, that Grettir had laid his
arms outside the bed-clothes; and Thorstein was awake and saw it. Now
Grettir woke up a little after, and then spake Thorstein:
"I have seen thine arms, kinsman," said he, "and I deem it nowise
wonderful, though thy strokes fall heavy on many, for no man's arms
have I seen like thine."
"Thou mayst know well enough," said Grettir, "that I should not have
brought such things to pass as I have wrought, if I were not well
knit."
"Better should I deem it," said Thorstein, "if they were slenderer and
somewhat luckier withal."
Grettir said, "True it is, as folk say, <i>No man makes himself</i>;
but let me see thine arms," said he.
Thorstein did so; he was the longest and gauntest of men; and Grettir
laughed, and said,
"No need to look at that longer; hooked together are the ribs in thee;
nor, methinks, have I ever seen such tongs as thou bearest about, and
I deem thee to be scarce of a woman's strength."
"That may be," said Thorstein; "yet shall thou know that these same
thin arms shall avenge thee, else shall thou never be avenged; who may
know what shall be, when all is over and done?"
No more is told of their talk together; the spring wore on, and
Grettir took ship in the summer. The brothers parted in friendship,
and saw each other never after.