The Story of the Volsungs (Volsunga Saga), with Excerpts from the Poetic Edda.Part 4 out of 5
Woe-begatting by the way, Good going further Rather than guesting, Though thick night be on thee. Far-seeing eyes Need all sons of men Who wend in wrath to war; For baleful women Bide oft by the highway, Swords and hearts to soften. And now the fifth rede: As fair as thou seest Brides on the bench abiding, Let not love's silver Rule over thy sleeping; Draw no woman to kind kissing! For the sixth thing, I rede When men sit a-drinking Amid ale-words and ill-words, Dead thou naught With the drunken fight-staves For wine stealeth wit from many. Brawling and drink Have brought unto men Sorrow sore oft enow; Yea, bane unto some, And to some weary bale; Many are the griefs of mankind. For the seventh, I rede thee, If strife thou raisest With a man right high of heart, Better fight a-field Than burn in the fire Within thine hall fair to behold. The eighth rede that I give thee: Unto all ill look thou, And hold thine heart from all beguiling; Draw to thee no maiden, No man's wife bewray thou, Urge them not unto unmeet pleasure. This is the ninth counsel: That thou have heed of dead folk Whereso thou findest them a-field; Be they sick-dead, Be they sea-dead, Or come to ending by war-weapons. Let bath be made For such men fordone, Wash thou hands and feet thereof, Comb their hair and dry them Ere the coffin has them; Then bid them sleep full sweetly. This for the tenth counsel: That thou give trust never Unto oaths of foeman's kin, Be'st thou bane of his brother, Or hast thou felled his father; Wolf in young son waxes, Though he with gold be gladdened. For wrong and hatred Shall rest them never, Nay, nor sore sorrow. Both wit and weapons Well must the king have Who is fain to be the foremost. The last rede and eleventh: Until all ill look thou. And watch thy friends' ways ever Scarce durst I look For long life for thee, king: Strong trouble ariseth now already. ENDNOTES: (1) This continues the first part of the lay given in Chapter XX of the Saga; and is, in fact, the original verse of Chapter XXI. THE LAY CALLED THE SHORT LAY OF SIGURD. Sigurd of yore, Sought the dwelling of Giuki, As he fared, the young Volsung, After fight won; Troth he took From the two brethren; Oath swore they betwixt them, Those bold ones of deed. A may they gave to him And wealth manifold, Gudrun the young, Giuki's daughter: They drank and gave doom Many days together, Sigurd the young, And the sons of Giuki. Until they wended For Brynhild's wooing, Sigurd a-riding Amidst their rout; The wise young Volsung Who knew of all ways -- Ah! He had wed her, Had fate so willed it. Southlander Sigurd A naked sword, Bright, well grinded, Laid betwixt them; No kiss he won From the fair woman, Nor in arms of his Did the Hun King hold her, Since he gat the young maid For the son of Giuki. No lack in her life She wotted of now, And at her death-day No dreadful thing For a shame indeed Or a shame in seeming; But about and betwixt Went baleful fate. Alone, abroad, She sat of an evening, Of full many things She fall a-talking: "O for my Sigurd! I shall have death, Or my fair, my lovely, Laid in mine arms. "For the word once spoken, I sorrow sorely -- His queen is Gudrun, I am wed to Gunnar; The dread Norns wrought for us A long while of woe." Oft with heart deep In dreadful thoughts, O'er ice-fields and ice-hills She fared a-night time, When he and Gudrun Were gone to their fair bed, And Sigurd wrapped The bed-gear round her. "Ah! Now the Hun King His queen in arms holdeth, While love I go lacking, And all things longed for With no delight But in dreadful thought." These dreadful things Thrust her toward murder: -- "Listen, Gunnar, For thou shalt lose My wide lands, Yea, me myself! Never love I my life, With thee for my lord -- "I will fare back thither From whence I came, To my nighest kin And those that know me There shall I sit Sleeping my life away, Unless thou slayest Sigurd the Hun King, Making thy might more E'en than his might was! "Yea, let the son fare After the father, And no young wolf A long while nourish! For on earth man lieth Vengeance lighter, And peace shall be surer If the son live not." Adrad was Gunnar, Heavy-hearted was he, And in doubtful mood Day-long he sat. For naught he wotted, Nor might see clearly What was the seemliest Of deeds to set hand to; What of all deeds Was best to be done: For he minded the vows Sworn to the Volsung, And the sore wrong To be wrought against Sigurd. Wavered his mind A weary while, No wont it was Of those days worn by, That queens should flee From the realms of their kings. "Brynhild to me Is better than all, The child of Budli Is the best of women. Yea, and my life Will I lay down, Ere I am twinned From that woman's treasure." He bade call Hogni To the place where he bided; With all the trust that might be, Trowed he in him. "Wilt thou bewray Sigurd For his wealth's sake? Good it is to rule O'er the Rhine's metal; And well content Great wealth to wield, Biding in peace And blissful days." One thing alone Hogni Had for an answer: "Such doings for us Are naught seemly to do; To rend with sword Oaths once sworn, Oaths once sworn, And troth once plighted. "Nor know we on mould, Men of happier days, The while we four Rule over the folk; While the bold in battle, The Hun King, bides living. "And no nobler kin Shall be known afield, If our five sons We long may foster; Yea, a goodly stem Shall surely wax. -- But I clearly see In what wise it standeth, Brynhild's sore urging O'ermuch on thee beareth. "Guttorm shall we Get for the slaying, Our younger brother Bare of wisdom; For he was out of All the oaths sworn, All the oaths sworn, And the plighted troth." Easy to rouse him Who of naught recketh! -- Deep stood the sword In the heart of Sigurd. There, in the hall, Gat the high-hearted vengeance; For he can his sword At the reckless slayer: Out at Guttorm Flew Gram the mighty, The gleaming steel From Sigurd's hand. Down fell the slayer Smitten asunder; The heavy head And the hands fell one way, But the feet and such like Aback where they stood. Gudrun was sleeping Soft in the bed, Empty of sorrow By the side of Sigurd: When she awoke With all pleasure gone, Swimming in blood Of Frey's beloved. So sore her hands She smote together, That the great-hearted Gat raised in bed; -- "O Gudrun, weep not So woefully, Sweet lovely bride, For thy brethren live for thee! "A young child have I For heritor; Too young to win forth From the house of his foes. -- Black deeds and ill Have they been a-doing, Evil rede Have they wrought at last. "Late, late, rideth with them Unto the Thing, Such sister's son, Though seven thou bear, -- -- But well I wot Which way all goeth; Alone wrought Brynhild This bale against us. "That maiden loved me Far before all men, Yet wrong to Gunnar I never wrought; Brotherhood I heeded And all bounden oaths, That none should deem me His queen's darling." Weary sighed Gudrun, As the king gat ending, And so sore her hands She smote together, That the cups arow Rang out therewith, And the geese cried on high That were in the homefield. Then laughed Brynhild Budli's daughter, Once, once only, From out her heart; When to her bed Was borne the sound Of the sore greeting Of Giuki's daughter. Then, quoth Gunnar, The king, the hawk-bearer, "Whereas, thou laughest, O hateful woman, Glad on thy bed, No good it betokeneth: Why lackest thou else Thy lovely hue? Feeder of foul deeds, Fey do I deem thee, "Well worthy art thou Before all women, That thine eyes should see Atli slain of us; That thy brother's wounds Thou shouldest see a-bleeding, That his bloody hurts Thine hands should bind." "No man blameth thee, Gunnar, Thou hast fulfilled death's measure But naught Atli feareth All thine ill will; Life shall he lay down Later than ye, And still bear more might Aloft than thy might. "I shall tell thee, Gunnar, Though well the tale thou knowest, In what early days Ye dealt abroad your wrong: Young was I then, Worn with no woe, Good wealth I had In the house of my brother! "No mind had I That a man should have me, Or ever ye Giukings, Rode into our garth; There ye sat on your steeds Three kings of the people -- -- Ah! That that faring Had never befallen! "Then spake Atli To me apart, And said that no wealth He would give unto me, Neither gold nor lands If I would not be wedded; Nay, and no part Of the wealth apportioned, Which in my first days He gave me duly; Which in my first days He counted down. "Wavered the mind Within me then, If to fight I should fall And the felling of folk, Bold in Byrny Because of my brother; A deed of fame Had that been to all folk, But to many a man Sorrow of mind. "So I let all sink Into peace at the last: More grew I minded For the mighty treasure, The red-shining rings Of Sigmund's son; For no man's wealth else Would I take unto me. "For myself had I given To that great king Who sat amid gold On the back of Grani; Nought were his eyes Like to your eyen, Nor in any wise Went his visage with yours; Though ye might deem you Due kings of men. "One I loved, One, and none other, The gold-decked may Had no doubtful mind; Thereof shall Atli Wot full surely, When he getteth to know I am gone to the dead. "Far be it from me, Feeble and wavering, Ever to love Another's love -- -- Yes shall my woe Be well avenged." Up rose Gunnar, The great men's leader, And cast his arms About the queen's neck; And all went nigh One after other, With their whole hearts Her heart to turn. But then all these From her neck she thrust, Of her long journey No man should let her. Then called he Hogni To have talk with him; "Let all folk go Forth into the hall, Thine with mine -- -- O need sore and mighty! -- To wot if we yet My wife's parting may stay. Till with time's wearing Some hindrance wax." One answer Hogni Had for all; "Nay, let hard need Have rule thereover, And no man let her Of her long journey! Never born again, May she come back thence! "Luckless she came To the lap of her mother, Born into the world For utter woe, TO many a man For heart-whole mourning." Upraised he turned From the talk and the trouble, To where the gem-field Dealt out goodly treasure; As she looked and beheld All the wealth that she had, And the hungry bondmaids, And maids of the hall. With no good in her heart She donned her gold byrny, Ere she thrust the sword point Through the midst of her body: On the boister's far side Sank she adown, And, smitten with sword, Still bethought her of redes. "Let all come forth Who are fain the red gold, Or things less worthy To win from my hands; To each one I give A necklace gilt over, Wrought hangings and bed=gear, And bright woven weed." All they kept silence, And thought what to speak, Then all at once Answer gave: "Full enow are death-doomed, Fain are we to live yet, Maids of the hall All meet work winning." "From her wise heart at last The linen-clad damsel, The one of few years Gave forth the word: "I will that none driven By hand or by word, For our sake should lose Well-loved life. "Thou on the bones of you Surely shall burn, Less dear treasure At your departing Nor with Menia's Meal (1) Shall ye come to see me." "Sit thee down, Gunnar, A word must I say to thee Of the life's ruin Of thy lightsome bride -- -- Nor shall thy ship Swim soft and sweetly For all that I Lay life adown. "Sooner than ye might deem Shall ye make peace with Gudrun, For the wise woman Shall full in the young wife The hard memory Of her dead husband. "There is a may born Reared by her mother, Whiter and brighter Than is the bright day; She shall be Swanhild, She shall be Sunbeam. "Thou shalt give Gudrun Unto a great one, Noble, well-praised Of the world's folk; Not with her goodwill, Or love shalt thou give her; Yet will Atli Come to win her, My very brother, Born of Budli. -- "Ah! Many a memory Of how ye dealt with me, How sorely, how evilly Ye ever beguiled me, How all pleasure left me The while my life lasted! -- "Fain wilt thou be Oddrun to win, But thy good liking Shall Atli let; But in secret wise Shall ye win together, And she shall love thee As I had loved thee, If in such wise Fare had willed it. "But with all ill Shall Atli sting thee, Into the strait worm-close Shall he cast thee. "But no long space Shall slip away Ere Atli too All life shall lose, Yea, all his weal With the life of his sons, For a dreadful bed Dights Gudrun for him, From a heart sore laden, With the sword's sharp edge. "More seemly for Gudrun, Your very sister, In death to wend after Her love first wed; Had but good rede To her been given, Or if her heart Had been like to my heart. -- "Faint my speech groweth -- But for our sake Ne'er shall she lose Her life beloved; The sea shall have her, High billows bear her Forth unto Jonakr's Fair land of his fathers. "There shall she bear sons, Stays of a heritage, Stays of a heritage, Jonakr's sons; And Swanhild shall she Send from the land, That may born of her, The may born of Sigurd. "Her shall bite The rede of Bikki, Whereas for no good Wins Jormunrek life; And so is clean perished All the kin of Sigurd, Yea, and more greeting, And more for Gudrun. "And now one prayer Yet pray I of thee -- That last word of mine Here in the world -- So broad on the field Be the burg of the dead That fair space may be left For us all to lie down, All those that died At Sigurd's death! "Hang round that burg Fair hangings and shields, Web by Gauls woven, And folk of the Gauls: There burn the Hun King Lying beside me. "But on the other side Burn by the Hun King Those who served me Strewn with treasure; Two at the head, And two at the feet, Two hounds therewith, And two hawks moreover: Then is all dealt With even dealing. "Lay there amidst us The right-dight metal, The sharp-edged steel, That so lay erst; When we both together Into one bed went, And were called by the name Of man and wife. "Never, then, belike Shall clash behind him Valhall's bright door With rings bedight: And if my fellowship Followeth after, In no wretched wise Then shall we wend. "For him shall follow My five bondmaids, My eight bondsmen, No borel folk: Yea, and my fosterer, And my father's dower That Budli of old days Gave to his dear child. "Much have I spoken, More would I speak, If the sword would give me Space for speech; But my words are waning, My wounds are swelling -- Naught but truth have I told -- -- And now make I ending." ENDNOTES: (1) "Menia's Maid" -- periphrasis for gold. THE HELL-RIDE OF BRYNHILD. After the death of Brynhild were made two bales, one for Sigurd, and that was first burned; but Brynhild was burned on the other, and she was in a chariot hung about with goodly hangings. And so folk say that Brynhild drave in her chariot down along the way to Hell, and passed by an abode where dwelt a certain giantess, and the giantess spake: -- THE GIANT-WOMAN "Nay, with my goodwill Never goest thou Through this stone-pillared Stead of mine! More seemly for thee To sit sewing the cloth, Than to go look on The love of another. "What dost thou, going From the land of the Gauls, O restless head, To this mine house? Golden girl, hast thou not, If thou listest to hearken, In sweet wise from thy hands The blood of men washen?" BRYNHILD "Nay, blame me naught, Bride of the rock-hall, Though I roved a warring In the days that were; The higher of us twain Shall I ever be holden When of our kind Men make account." THE GIANT-WOMAN "Thou, O Brynhild, Budli's daughter, Wert the worst ever born Into the world; For Giuki's children Death hast thou gotten, And turned to destruction Their goodly dwelling." BRYNHILD "I shall tell thee True tale from my chariot, O thou who naught wottest, If thou listest to wot; How for me they have gotten Those heirs of Giuki, A loveless life, A life of lies. "Hild under helm, The Hlymdale people, E'en those who knew me, Ever would call me. "The changeful shapes Of us eight sisters, The wise king bade Under oak-tree to bear; Of twelve winters was I, If thou listest to wot, When I sware to the young lord Oaths of love. "Thereafter gat I Mid the folk of the Goths, For Helmgunnar the old, Swift journey to Hell, And gave to Aud's brother The young, gain and glory; Whereof overwrath Waxed Odin with me. "So he shut me in shield-wall In Skata grove, Red shields and white Close set around me; And bade him alone My slumber to break Who in no land Knew how to fear. "He set round my hall, Toward the south quarter, The Bane of all trees Burning aloft; And ruled that he only Thereover should ride Who should bring me the gold O'er which Fafnir brooded. "Then upon Grani rode The goodly gold-strewer To where my fosterer Ruled his fair dwelling. He who alone there Was deemed best of all, The War-lord of the Danes, Well worthy of men. "In peace did we sleep Soft in one bed, As though he had been Naught but my brother: There as we lay Through eight nights wearing, No hand in love On each other we laid. "Yet thence blamed me, Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, That I had slept In the arms of Sigurd; And then I wotted As I fain had not wotted, That they had bewrayed me In my betrothals. "Ah! For unrest All too long Are men and women Made alive! Yet we twain together Shall wear through the ages, Sigurd and I. -- -- Sink adown, O giant-wife!" FRAGMENTS OF THE LAY OF BRYNHILD HOGNI SAID: "What hath wrought Sigurd Of any wrong-doing That the life of the famed one Thou art fain of taking?" GUNNAR SAID: "To me has Sigurd Sworn many oaths, Sworn many oaths, And sworn them lying, And he bewrayed me When it behoved him Of all folk to his troth To be the most trusty." HOGNI SAID: "Thee hath Brynhild Unto all bale, And all hate whetted, And a work of sorrow; For she grudges to Gudrun All goodly life; And to thee the bliss Of her very body." ******* Some the wolf roasted, Some minced the worm, Some unto Guttorm Gave the wolf-meat, Or ever they might In their lust for murder On the high king Lay deadly hand. Sigurd lay slain On the south of the Rhine High from the fair tree Croaked forth the raven, "Ah, yet shall Atli On you redden edges, The old oaths shall weigh On your souls, O warriors." Without stood Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, And the first word she said Was even this word: "Where then is Sigurd, Lord of the Warfolk, Since my kin Come riding the foremost? One word Hogni Had for an answer: "Our swords have smitten Sigurd asunder, And the grey horse hangs drooping O'er his lord lying dead." Then quoth Brynhild, Budli's daughter; "Good weal shall ye have Of weapons and lands, That Sigurd alone Would surely have ruled If he had lived But a little longer. "Ah, nothing seemly For Sigurd to rule Giuki's house And the folk of the Goths, When of him five sons For the slaying of men, Eager for battle, Should have been begotten!" Then laughed Brynhild -- Loud rang the whole house -- One laugh only From out her heart: "Long shall your bliss be Of lands and people, Whereas the famed lord You have felled to the earth!" Then spake Gudrun, Giuki's daughter; "Much thou speakest, Many things fearful, All grame be on Gunnar The bane of Sigurd! From a heart full of hate Shall come heavy vengeance." Forth sped the even Enow there was drunken, Full enow was there Of all soft speech; And all men got sleep When to bed they were gotten; Gunnar only lay waking Long after all men. His feet fell he to moving, Fell to speak to himself The waster of men, Still turned in his mind What on the bough Those twain would be saying, The raven and erne, As they rode their ways homeward. But Brynhild awoke, Budli's daughter, May of the shield-folk, A little ere morning: "Thrust ye on, hold ye back, -- Now all harm is wrought, -- To tell of my sorrow, Or to let all slip by me?" All kept silence After her speaking, None might know That woman's mind, Or why she must weep To tell of the work That laughing once Of men she prayed. BRYNHILD SPAKE: "In dreams, O Gunnar, Grim things fell on me; Dead-cold the hall was, And my bed was a-cold, And thou, lord, wert riding Reft of all bliss, Laden with fetters 'Mid the host of thy foemen." "So now all ye, O House of the Niblungs, Shall be brought to naught, O ye oath-breakers! "Think'st thou not, Gunnar, How that betid, When ye let the blood run Both in one footstep? With ill reward Hast thou rewarded His heart so fain To be the foremost! "As well was seen When he rode his ways, That king of all worth, Unto my wooing; How the host-destroyer Held to the vows Sworn beforetime, Sworn to the young king. "For his wounding-wand All wrought with gold, The king beloved Laid between us; Without were its edges Wrought with fire, But with venom-drops Deep dyed within." Thus this song telleth of the death of Sigurd, and setteth forth how that they slew him without doors; but some say that they slew him within doors, sleeping in his bed. But the Dutch Folk say that they slew him out in the wood: and so sayeth the ancient song of Gudrun, that Sigurd and the sons of Giuki were riding to the Thing whenas he was slain. But all with one accord say that they bewrayed him in their troth with him, and fell on him as he lay unarrayed and unawares. THE SECOND OR ANCIENT LAY OF GUDRUN. Thiodrek the King was in Atli's house, and had lost there the more part of his men: so there Thiodrek and Gudrun bewailed their troubles one to the other, and she spake and said: -- A may of all mays My mother reared me Bright in bower; Well loved I my brethren, Until that Giuki With gold arrayed me, With gold arrayed me, And gave me to Sigurd. Such was my Sigurd, Among the sons of Giuki As is the green leek O'er the low grass waxen, Or a hart high-limbed Over hurrying deer, Or glede-red gold Over grey silver. Till me they begrudged, Those my brethren, The fate to have him, Who was first of all men; Nor might they sleep, Nor sit a-dooming, Ere they let slay My well-loved Sigurd. Grani ran to the Thing, There was clatter to hear, But never came Sigurd Himself thereunto; All the saddle-girt beasts With blood were besprinkled, As faint with the way Neath the slayers they went. Then greeting I went With Grani to talk, And with tear-furrowed cheeks I bade him tell all; But drooping laid Grani, His head in the grass, For the steed well wotted Of his master's slaying. A long while I wandered, Long my mind wavered, Ere the kings I might ask Concerning my king. Then Gunnar hung head, But Hogni told Of the cruel slaying Of my Sigurd: "On the water's far side Lies, smitten to death, The bane of Guttorm To the wolves given over. "Go, look on Sigurd, On the ways that go southward, There shalt thou hear The ernes high screaming, The ravens a-croaking As their meat they crave for; Thou shalt hear the wolves howling Over thine husband. "How hast thou, Hogni, The heart to tell me, Me of joy made empty, Of such misery? Thy wretched heart May the ravens tear Wide over the world, With no men mayst thou wend." One thing Hogni Had for answer, Fallen from his high heart, Full of all trouble: "More greeting yet, O Gudrun, for thee, If my heart the ravens Should rend asunder!" Thence I turned From the talk and the trouble To go a leasing (1) What the wolves had left me; No sigh I made No smote hands together, Nor did I wail As other women When I sat over My Sigurd slain. Night methought it, And the moonless dark, When I sat in sorrow Over Sigurd; Better than all things I deemed it would be If they would let me Cast my life by, Or burn me up As they burn the birch-wood. From the fell I wandered Five days together, Until the high hall Of Half lay before me; Seven seasons there I sat with Thora, The daughter of Hacon, Up in Denmark. My heart to gladden With gold she wrought Southland halls And swans of the Dane-folk; There had we painted The chiefs a-playing; Fair our hands wrought Folk of the kings. Red shields we did, Doughty knights of the Huns, Hosts spear-dight, hosts helm-dight, All a high king's fellows; And the ships of Sigmund From the land swift sailing; Heads gilt over And prows fair graven. On the cloth we broidered That tide of their battling, Siggeir and Siggar, South in Fion. Then heard Grimhild, The Queen of Gothland, How I was abiding, Weighed down with woe; And she thrust the cloth from her And called to her sons, And oft and eagerly Asked them thereof, Who for her son Would their sister atone, Who for her lord slain Would lay down weregild. Fain was Gunnar Gold to lay down All wrongs to atone for, And Hogni in likewise; Then she asked who was fain Of faring straightly, The steed to saddle To set forth the wain, The horse to back, And the hawk to fly, To shoot forth the arrow From out the yew-bow. Valdarr the Dane-king Came with Jarisleif Eymod the third went Then went Jarizskar; In kingly wise In they wended, The host of the Longbeards; Red cloaks had they, Byrnies short-cut, Helms strong hammered, Girt with glaives, And hair red-gleaming. Each would give me Gifts desired, Gifts desired, Speech dear to my heart, If they might yet, Despite my sorrow, Win back my trust, But in them nought I trusted. Then brought me Grimhild A beaker to drink of, Cold and bitter, Wrong's memory to quench; Made great was that drink With the might of the earth, With the death-cold sea And the blood that Son (2) holdeth. On that horn's face were there All the kin of letters Cut aright and reddened, How should I rede them rightly? The ling-fish long Of the land of Hadding, Wheat-ears unshorn, And wild things' inwards. In that mead were mingled Many ills together, Blood of all the wood, And brown-burnt acorns; The black dew of the hearth, (3) And god-doomed dead beasts' inwards And the swine's liver sodden, For wrongs late done that deadens. Then waned my memory When that was within me, Of my lord 'mid the hall By the iron laid low. Three kings came Before my knees Ere she herself Fell to speech with me. "I will give to thee, Gudrun, Gold to be glad with, All the great wealth Of thy father gone from us, Rings of red gold And the great hall of Lodver, And all fair hangings left By the king late fallen. "Maids of the Huns Woven pictures to make, And work fair in gold Till thou deem'st thyself glad. Alone shalt thou rule O'er the riches of Budli, Shalt be made great with gold, And be given to Atli." "Never will I Wend to a husband, Or wed the brother Of Queen Brynhild; Naught it beseems me With the son of Budli Kin to bring forth, Or to live and be merry." "Nay, the high chiefs Reward not with hatred, For take heed that I Was the first in this tale! To thy heart shall it be As if both these had life, Sigurd and Sigmund, When thou hast borne sons." "Naught may I, Grimhild, Seek after gladness, Nor deem aught hopeful Of any high warrior, Since wolf and raven Were friends together, The greedy, the cruel, O'er great Sigurd's heart-blood." "Of all men that can be For the noblest of kin This king have I found, And the foremost of all; Him shalt thou have Till with eld thou art heavy -- Be thou ever unwed, If thou wilt naught of him!" "Nay, nay, bid me not With thy words long abiding To take unto me That balefullest kin; This king shall bid Gunnar Be stung to his bane, And shall cut the heart From out of Hogni. "Nor shall I leave life Ere the keen lord, The eager in sword-play, My hand shall make end of." Grimhild a-weeping Took up the word then, When the sore bale she wotted Awaiting her sons, And the bane hanging over Her offspring beloved. "I will give thee, moreover, Great lands, many men, Wineberg and Valberg, If thou wilt but have them; Hold them lifelong, And live happy, O daughter!" "Then him must I take From among kingly men, 'Gainst my heart's desire, From the hands of my kinsfolk; But no joy I look To have from that lord: Scarce may my brother's bane Be a shield to my sons." Soon was each warrior Seen on his horse, But the Gaulish women Into wains were gotten; Then seven days long O'er a cold land we rode, And for seven other Clove we the sea-waves. But with the third seven O'er dry land we wended. There the gate-wardens Of the burg, high and wide, Unlooked the barriers Ere the burg-garth we rode to -- ***** ***** Atli woke me When meseemed I was Full evil of heart For my kin dead slain. "In such wise did the Norns Wake me or now." -- Fain was he to know Of this ill foreshowing -- "That methought, O Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, That thou setst in my heart A sword wrought for guile." "For fires tokening I deem it That dreaming of iron, But for pride and for lust The wrath of fair women Against some bale Belike, I shall burn thee For thy solace and healing Though hateful thou art." "In the fair garth methought Had saplings fallen E'en such as I would Should have waxen ever; Uprooted were these, And reddened with blood, And borne to the bench, And folk bade me eat of them. "Methought from my hand then Went hawks a-flying Lacking their meat To the land of all ill; Methought that their hearts Mingled with honey, Swollen with blood I ate amid sorrow. "Lo, next two whelps From my hands I loosened, Joyless were both, And both a-howling; And now their flesh Became naught but corpses, Whereof must I eat But sore against my will." "O'er the prey of the fishers Will folk give doom; From the bright white fish The heads will they take; Within a few nights, Fey as they are, A little ere day Of that draught will they eat." "Ne'er since lay I down, Ne'er since would I sleep, Hard of heart, in my bed: -- That deed have I to do. (4) ENDNOTES: (1) The original has "a vid lesa". "Leasing" is the word still used for gleaning in many country sides in England. (2) Son was the vessel into which was poured the blood of Quasir, the God of Poetry. (3) This means soot. (4) The whole of this latter part is fragmentary and obscure; there seems wanting to two of the dreams some trivial interpretation by Gudrun, like those given by Hogni to Kostbera in the Saga, of which nature, of course, the interpretation contained in the last stanza but one is, as we have rendered it: another rendering, from the different reading of the earlier edition of "Edda" (Copenhagen, 1818) would make this refer much more directly to the slaying of her sons by Gudrun. THE SONG OF ATLI. Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, avenger her brethren, as is told far and wide; first she slew the sons of Atli, and then Atli himself; and she burned the hall thereafter, and all the household with it: and about these matters is this song made: -- In days long gone Sent Atli to Gunnar A crafty one riding, Knefrud men called him; To Giuki's garth came he, To the hall of Gunnar, To the benches gay-dight, And the gladsome drinking. There drank the great folk 'Mid the guileful one's silence, Drank wine in their fair hall: The Huns' wrath they feared When Knefrud cried In his cold voice, As he sat on the high seat, That man of the Southland: "Atli has sent me Riding swift on his errands On the bit-griping steed Through dark woodways unbeaten, To bid thee, King Gunnar, Come to his fair bench With helm well-adorned, To the house of King Atli. "Shield shall ye have there And spears ashen-shafted, Helms ruddy with gold, And hosts of the Huns; Saddle-gear silver gilt, Shirts red as blood, The hedge of the warwife, And horses bit-griping. "And he saith he will give you Gnitaheath widespread, And whistling spears And prows well-gilded, Might wealth With the stead of Danpi, And that noble wood Men name the Murkwood." Then Gunnar turned head And spake unto Hogni: "What rede from thee, high one, Since such things we hear? No gold know I On Gnitaheath, That we for our parts Have not portion as great. "Seven halls we have Fulfilled of swords, And hilts of gold Each sword there has; My horse is the best, My blade is the keenest; Fair my bow o'er the bench is, Gleams my byrny with gold; Brightest helm, brightest shield, From Kiar's dwelling ere brought -- Better all things I have Than all things of the Huns." HOGNI SAID: "What mind has our sister That a ring she hath sent us In weed of wolves clad? Bids she not to be wary? For a wolf's hair I found The fair ring wreathed about; Wolf beset shall the way be If we wend on this errand." No sons whetted Gunnar, Nor none of his kin, Nor learned men nor wise men, Nor such as were mighty. Then spake Gunnar E'en as a king should speak, Glorious in mead-hall From great heart and high: "Rise up now, Fiornir, Forth down the benches Let the gold-cups of great ones Pass in hands of my good-men! Well shall we drink wine, Draughts dear to our hearts, Though the last of all feasts In our fair house this be! "For the wolves shall rule O'er the wealth of the Niblungs, With the pine-woods' wardens In Gunnar perish: And the black-felled bears With fierce teeth shall bite For the glee of the dog kind, If again comes not Gunnar." Then good men never shamed, Greeting aloud, Led the great king of men From the garth of his home; And cried the fair son Of Hogni the king: "Fare happy, O Lords, Whereso your hearts lead you!" Then the bold knights Let their bit-griping steeds Wend swift o'er the fells, Tread the murk-wood unknown, All the Hunwood was shaking As the hardy ones fared there; O'er the green meads they urged Their steeds shy of the goad. Then Atli's land saw they; Great towers and strong, And the bold men of Bikki, Aloft on the burg: The Southland folks' hall Set with benches about, Dight with bucklers well bounden, And bright white shining shields. There drank Atli, The awful Hun king, Wine in his fair hall; Without were the warders, Gunnar's folk to have heed of, Lest they had fared thither With the whistling spear War to wake 'gainst the king. But first came their sister As they came to the hall, Both her brethren she met, With beer little gladdened: "Bewrayed art thou, Gunnar! What dost thou great king To deal war to the Huns? Go thou swift from the hall! Better, brother, hadst thou Fared here in thy byrny Than with helm gaily dight Looked on Atli's great house: Them hadst sat then in saddle Through days bright with the sun Fight to awaken And fair fields to redden: "O'er the folk fate makes pale Should the Norn's tears have fallen, The shield mays of the Huns Should have known of all sorrow; And King Atli himself To worm-close should be brought; But now is the worm-close Kept but for thee." Then spake Gunnar Great 'mid the people: "Over-late sister The Niblungs to summon; A long way to seek The helping of warriors, The high lord unshamed, From the hills of the Rhine!" ***** ***** Seven Hogni beat down With his sword sharp-grinded, And the eighth man he thrust Amidst of the fire. Ever so shall famed warrior Fight with his foemen, As Hogni fought For the hand of Gunnar. But on Gunnar they fell, And set him in fetters, And bound hard and fast That friend of Burgundians; Then the warrior they asked If he would buy life, But life with gold That king of the Goths. Nobly spake Gunnar, Great lord of the Niblungs; "Hogni's bleeding heart first Shall lie in mine hand, Cut from the breast Of the bold-riding lord, With bitter-sharp knife From the son of the king." With guile the great one Would they beguile, On the wailing thrall Laid they hand unwares, And cut the heart From out of Hjalli, Laid it bleeding on trencher And bare it to Gunnar. "Here have I the heart Of Hjalli the trembler, Little like the heart Of Hogni the hardy: As much as it trembleth Laid on the trencher By the half more it trembled In the breast of him hidden." Then laughed Hogni When they cut the heart from him, From the crest-smith yet quick, Little thought he to quail. The hard acorn of thought From the high king they took, Laid it bleeding on trencher And bare it Gunnar. "Here have I the heart Of Hogni the hardy, Little like to the heart Of Hjalli the trembler. Howso little it quaketh Laid here on the dish, Yet far less it quaked In the breast of him laid. "So far mayst thou bide From men's eyen, O Atli, As from that treasure Thou shalt abide! "Behold in my heart Is hidden for ever That hoard of the Niblungs, Now Hogni is dead. Doubt threw me two ways While the twain of us lived, But all that is gone Now I live on alone. "The great Rhine shall rule O'er the hate-raising treasure, That gold of the Niblungs, The seed of the gods: In the weltering water Shall that wealth lie a-gleaming, Or it shine on the hands Of the children of Huns!" Then cried Atli, King of the Hun-folk, "Drive forth your wains now The slave is fast bounden." And straightly thence The bit-shaking steeds Drew the hoard-warden, The war-god to his death. Atli the great king, Rode upon Glaum, With shields set round about, And sharp thorns of battle: Gudrun, bound by wedlock To these, victory made gods of, Held back her tears As the hall she ran into. "Let it fare with thee, Atli, E'en after thine oaths sworn To Gunnar fell often; Yea, oaths sworn of old time, By the sun sloping southward, By the high burg of Sigry, By the fair bed of rest, By the red ring of Ull!" Now a host of men Cast the high king alive Into a close Crept o'er within With most foul worms, Fulfilled of all venom, Ready grave to dig In his doughty heart. Wrathful-hearted he smote The harp with his hand, Gunnar laid there alone; And loud rang the strings. -- In such wise ever Should hardy ring-scatterer Keep gold from all folk In the garth of his foeman. Then Atli would wend About his wide land, On his steed brazen shod, Back from the murder. Din there was in the garth, All thronged with the horses; High the weapon-song rose From men come from the heath. Out then went Gudrun, 'Gainst Atli returning, With a cup gilded over, To greet the land's ruler; "Come, then, and take it, King glad in thine hall, From Gudrun's hands, For the hell-farers groan not!" Clashed the beakers of Atli, Wine-laden on bench, As in hall there a-gathered, The Huns fell a-talking, And the long-bearded eager ones Entered therein, From a murk den new-come, From the murder of Gunnar. Then hastened the sweet-faced Delight of the shield-folk, Bright in the fair hall, Wine to bear to them: The dreadful woman Gave dainties withal To the lords pale with fate, Laid strange word upon Atli: "The hearts of thy sons Hast thou eaten, sword-dealer, All bloody with death And drenched with honey: In most heavy mood Brood o'er venison of men! Drink rich draughts therewith, Down the high benches send it! "Never callest thou now From henceforth to thy knee Fair Erp or fair Eiril, Bright-faced with the drink; Never seest thou them now Amidmost the seat, Scattering the gold, Or shafting of spears; Manes trimming duly, Or driving steeds forth!" Din arose from the benches, Dread song of men was there, Noise 'mid the fair hangings, As all Hun's children wept; All saving Gudrun, Who never gat greeting, For her brethren bear-hardy For her sweet sons and bright, The young ones, the simple Once gotten with Atli. ***** ***** The seed of gold Sowed the swan-bright woman, Rings of red gold She gave to the house-carls; Fate let she wax, Let the bright gold flow forth, In naught spared that woman The store-houses' wealth. Atli unaware Was a-weary with drink; No weapon had he, No heeding of Gudrun -- Ah, the pity would be better, When in soft wise they twain Would full often embrace Before the great lords! To the bed with sword-point Blood gave she to drink With a hand fain of death, And she let the dogs loose: Then in from the hall-door -- -- Up waked the house-carls -- Hot brands she cast, Gat revenge for her brethren. To the flame gave she all Who therein might be found; Fell adown the old timbers, Reeked all treasure-houses; There the shield-mays were burnt, Their lives' span brought to naught; In the fierce fire sank down All the stead of the Budlungs. Wide told of is this -- Ne'er sithence in the world, Thus fared bride clad in byrny For her brothers' avenging; For behold, this fair woman To three kings of the people, Hath brought very death Or ever she died! THE WHETTING OF GUDRUN. Gudrun went down unto the sea whenas she had slain Atli, and she cast herself therein, for she was fain to end her life: but nowise might she drown. She drave over the firths to the land of King Jonakr, and he wedded her, and their sons were Sorli, and Erp, and Hamdir, and there was Swanhild, Sigurd's daughter, nourished: and she was given to Jormunrek the Mighty. Now Bikki was a man of his, and gave such counsel to Randver, the king's son, as that he should take her; and with that counsel were the young folk well content. Then Bikki told the king, and the king let hang Randver, but bade Swanhild be trodden under horses' feet. But when Gudrun heard thereof, she spake to her sons -- Words of strife heard I, Huger than any, Woeful words spoken, Sprung from all sorrow, When Gudrun fierce-hearted With the grimmest of words Whetter her sons Unto the slaying. "Why are ye sitting here? Why sleep ye life away? Why doth it grieve you nought? Glad words to speak, Now when your sister -- Young of years was she -- Has Jormunrek trodden With the treading of horses? -- "Black horses and white In the highway of warriors; Grey horses that know The roads of the Goths. -- "Little like are ye grown To that Gunnar of old days! Nought are your hearts As the heart of Hogni! Well would ye seek Vengeance to win If your mood were in aught As the mood of my brethren, Or the hardy hearts Of the Kings of the Huns!" Then spake Hamdir, The high-hearted -- "Little didst thou Praise Hogni's doings, When Sigurd woke From out of sleep, And the blue-white bed-gear Upon thy bed Grew red with man's blood -- With the blood of thy mate! "Too baleful vengeance Wroughtest thou for thy brethren Most sore and evil When thy sons thou slewedst, Else all we together On Jormunrek Had wrought sore vengeance For that our sister. "Come, bring forth quickly The Hun kings' bright gear, Since thou has urged us Unto the sword-Thing!"
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