Publisher's Synopsis
Who has been hammering with a small hammer, stops working. Slavery! worry! Labour all lost! The strongest sword That ever I forged, That the hands of giants Fitly might wield, This insolent urchin For whom it is fashioned Can snap in two at one stroke, As if the thing were a toy! [Mime throws the sword on the anvil ill-humouredly, and with his arms akimbo gazes thoughtfully on the ground. There is one sword That he could not shatter: Nothung's splinters Would baffle his strength, Could I but forge Those doughty fragments That all my skill Cannot weld anew. Could I but forge the weapon, Shame and toil would win their reward!
