Frode was succeeded by his son Ingild, whose soul was perverted from honour.He forsook the examples of his forefathers, and utterly enthralled himself to the lures of the most wanton profligacy.Thus he had not a shadow of goodness and righteousness, but embraced vices instead of virtue; he cut the sinews of self-control, neglected the duties of his kingly station, and sank into a filthy slave of riot.Indeed, he fostered everything that was adverse or ill-fitted to an orderly life.He tainted the glories of his father and grandfather by practising the foulest lusts, and bedimmed the brightest honours of his ancestors by most shameful deeds.For he was so prone to gluttony, that he had no desire to avenge his father, or repel the aggressions of his foes; and so, could he but gratify his gullet, he thought that decency and self-control need be observed in nothing.By idleness and sloth he stained his glorious lineage, living a loose and sensual life; and his soul, so degenerate, so far perverted and astray from the steps of his fathers, he loved to plunge into most abominable gulfs of foulness.Fowl-fatteners, scullions, frying-pans, countless cook-houses, different cooks to roast or spice the banquet -- the choosing of these stood to him for glory.As to arms, soldiering, and wars, he could endure neither to train himself to them, nor to let others practise them.Thus he cast away all the ambitions of a man and aspired to those of women; for his incontinent itching of palate stirred in him love of every kitchen-stench.Ever breathing of his debauch, and stripped of every rag of soberness, with his foul breath he belched the undigested filth in his belly.He was as infamous in wantonness as Frode was illustrious in war.So utterly had his spirit been enfeebled by the untimely seductions of gluttony.Starkad was so disgusted at the excess of Ingild, that he forsook his friendship, and sought the fellowship of Halfdan, the King of Swedes, preferring work to idleness.Thus he could not bear so much as to countenance excessive indulgence.Now the sons of Swerting, fearing that they would have to pay to Ingild the penalty of their father's crime, were fain to forestall his vengeance by a gift, and gave him their sister in marriage.
Antiquity relates that she bore him sons, Frode, Fridleif, Ingild, and Olaf (whom some say was the son of Ingild's sister).
Ingild's sister Helga had been led by amorous wooing to return the flame of a certain low-born goldsmith, who was apt for soft words, and furnished with divers of the little gifts which best charm a woman's wishes.For since the death of the king there had been none to honour the virtues of the father by attention to the child; she had lacked protection, and had no guardians.When Starkad had learnt this from the repeated tales of travellers, he could not bear to let the wantonness of the smith pass unpunished.For he was always heedful to bear kindness in mind, and as ready to punish arrogance.So he hastened to chastise such bold and enormous insolence, wishing to repay the orphan ward the benefits he had of old received from Frode.Then he travelled through Sweden, went into the house of the smith, and posted himself near the threshold muffling his face in a cap to avoid discovery.The smith, who had not learnt the lesson that "strong hands are sometimes found under a mean garment", reviled him, and bade him quickly leave the house, saying that he should have the last broken victuals among the crowd of paupers.But the old man, whose ingrained self-control lent him patience, was nevertheless fain to rest there, and gradually study the wantonness of his host.For his reason was stronger than his impetuosity, and curbed his increasing rage.Then the smith approached the girl with open shamelessness, and cast himself in her lap, offering the hair of his head to be combed out by her maidenly hands.
Also he thrust forward his loin cloth, and required her help in picking out the fleas; and exacted from this woman of lordly lineage that she should not blush to put her sweet fingers in a foul apron.Then, believing that he was free to have his pleasure, he ventured to put his longing palms within her gown and to set his unsteady hands close to her breast.But she, looking narrowly, was aware of the presence of the old man whom she once had known, and felt ashamed.She spurned the wanton and libidinous fingering, and repulsed the unchaste hands, telling the man also that he had need of arms, and urging him to cease his lewd sport.
Starkad, who had sat down by the door, with the hat muffling his head, had already become so deeply enraged at this sight, that he could not find patience to hold his hand any longer, but put away his covering and clapped his right hand to his sword to draw it.
Then the smith, whose only skill was in lewdness, faltered with sudden alarm, and finding that it had come to fighting, gave up all hope of defending himself, and saw in flight the only remedy for his need.Thus it was as hard to break out of the door, of which the enemy held the approach, as it was grievous to await the smiter within the house.At last necessity forced him to put an end to his delay, and he judged that a hazard wherein there lay but the smallest chance of safety was more desirable than sure and manifest danger.Also, hard as it was to fly, the danger being so close, yet he desired flight because it seemed to bring him aid, and to be the nearer way to safety; and he cast aside delay, which seemed to be an evil bringing not the smallest help, but perhaps irretrievable ruin.But just as he gained the threshold, the old man watching at the door smote him through the hams, and there, half dead, he tottered and fell.For the smiter thought he ought carefully to avoid lending his illustrious hands to the death of a vile cinder-blower, and considered that ignominy would punish his shameless passion worse than death.
