At the banquet of Buliwyf, a member of their kind sang a song of bravery and battle that was much enjoyed, though little attended. The strong drink of the Northmen soon renders them as animals and stray asses; in the midst of the song there was ejaculation and also mortal combat over some intoxicated quarrel of two warriors. The bard did not cease his song through all these events; verily I saw flying blood spatter his face, and yet he wiped it away without a pause in his singing.

This impressed me greatly.

Now it happened that this Buliwyf, who was drunk as the rest, commanded that I should sing a song for them. He was most insistent. Not wishing to anger him, I recited from the Koran, with the translator repeating my words in their Norse tongue. I was received no better than their own minstrel, and afterward I asked the forgiveness of Allah for the treatment of His holy words, and also for the translation,

We had stayed two days among the Northmen, and on the morning we planned to leave, we were told by the translator that the chieftain Wyglif had died. I sought to witness what then befell.

First, they laid him in his grave, over which a roof was erected, for the space of ten days,

To the use of wine they abandon themselves in mad fashion, drinking it day and night, as I have already said. Not seldom does one die with a cup in his hand.

The family of Wyglif asked of all his girls and pages, “Which of you will die with him?” Then one of them answered, “I.” From the time she uttered that word, she was no longer free; should she wish to draw back, she is not permitted.

The girl who so spoke was then committed to two other girls, who were to keep watch over her, accompany her wherever she went, and even, on occasion, wash her feet. The people occupied themselves with the dead man-cutting out the clothes for him, and preparing whatever else was needful. During the whole of this period, the girl gave herself over to drinking and singing, and was cheerful and gay.