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"Well," they said, "why should we not fare even as thou farest? for why should his vile word bite us more than thee?" And in that mind Haflidi bade them abide; and thence-forward the chapmen made far less noise about Grettir's rhymes than before. Now a long and a hard voyage they had, and the leak gained on the ship, and men began to be exceeding worn with toil.
Then he ran aft to where they were baling, and asked what they would he should do; they said he would do mighty little good. "Well," said he, "<i>ye may yet be apaid of a man's aid</i>." Haflidi bade them not set aside his help, "For it may be he shall deem his hands freed if he offers his aid."
Then he hurried aft where they were baling and asked what they wanted him to do. They said he would do little good. He replied: "A man's help is something." Haflidi told them not to refuse his help. "Maybe," he said, "he is thinking of loosening his hands if he offers his services."
But when Haflidi heard this, he went up to where Grettir lay, and said, "Methinks the bargain between thee and the chapmen is scarcely fair; first thou dost by them unlawfully, and thereafter thou castest thy rhymes at them; and now they swear that they will throw thee overboard, and this is unseemly work to go on."
"One may sing so," says Haflidi, "that the lampoon be not so foul when it is searched into, though at first sight it be not over fair." "I have ever plenty of that skill in me," says Grettir. Then Haflidi went to the men where they were baling, and said, "Great is your toil, and no wonder that ye have taken ill liking to Grettir."
Grettir, when he heard himself being denounced, spoke a verse: "Other the words that Haflidi spake when he dined on curds at Reydarfell. But now two meals a day he takes in the steed of the bays mid foreland shores." The sailors were very angry and said he should not lampoon Haflidi for nothing.
You are mutinous and make lampoons about them, and they threaten to pitch you overboard. This is most improper." "Why cannot they mind their own business?" Grettir rejoined. "But I should like one or two to remain behind with me before I go overboard." "That is impossible," said Haflidi. "We shall never get on upon those terms. But I will make you a proposal about it." "What is that?"
The young wife of the mate was wont to sew from Grettir's hands, and much would the crew mock him therefor; but Haflidi went up to where Grettir lay and sang "Grettir, stand up from thy grave, In the trough of the grey wave The keel labours, tell my say Now unto thy merry may; From thy hands the linen-clad Fill of sewing now has had, Till we make the land will she Deem that labour fitteth thee."
Haflidi said so it should be, and after that they cared less about Grettir's lampoons. The voyage was long and fatiguing. The ship sprung a leak, and the men began to be worn out. The mate's young wife was in the habit of stitching Grettir's sleeves for him, and the men used to banter him about it. Haflidi went up to Grettir where he was lying and said: "Arise from thy den! deep furrows we plough!
Haflidi said: "Grettir certainly deserves that you should take him down a little, but I am not going to risk my good name because of his ill-temper and caprice. This is not the time to pay him out, when we are all in such danger. When you get on shore you can remember it if you like." "Shall we not endure what you can endure?" they said. "Why should a lampoon hurt us more than it does you?"
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