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THE STORY OF THE VOLSUNGS (VOLSUNGA SAGA)

APPENDIX: EXCERPTS FROM THE POETIC EDDA

PART OF THE SECOND LAY OF HELGI HUNDINGS-BANE (1)

Helgi wedded Sigrun, and they begate sons together, but Helgi lived not to be old; for Dag, (2) the son of Hogni, sacrificed to Odin, praying that he might avenge his father. So Odin lent Dag his spear, and Dag met Helgi, his brother-in-law, at a place called Fetter-grove, and thrust him through with that spear, and there fell Helgi dead; but Dag rode to Sevafell, and told Sigrun of the news.

     DAG:

     Loth am I, sister

     Of sorrow to tell the,

     For by hard need driven

     Have I drawn on the greeting;

     This morning fell

     In Fetter-grove

     The king well deemed

     The best in the wide world,

     Yea, he who stood

     On the necks of the strong."

 

     SIGRUN:

     All oaths once sworn

     Shall bite thee sore,

     The oaths that to Helgi

     Once thou swarest

     At the bright white

     Water of Lightening, (3)

     And at the cold rock

     That the sea runneth over.

 

     May the ship sweep not on

     That should sweep at its swiftest,

     Though the wind desired

     Behind thee driveth!

     May the horse never run

     That should run at his most might

     When from thy foe's face

     Thou hast most need to flee!

 

     May the sword never bite

     That thou drawest from scabbard

     But and if round thine head

     In wrath it singeth!

 

     Then should meet price be paid

     For Helgi's slaying

     When a wolf thou wert

     Out in the wild-wood,

     Empty of good things

     Empty of gladness,

     With no meat for thy mouth

     But dead men's corpses!

 

     DAG:

     With mad words thou ravest,

     Thy wits are gone from thee,

     When thou for thy brother

     Such ill fate biddest;

     Odin alone

     Let all this bale loose,

     Casting the strife-runes

     'Twixt friends and kindred.

 

     Rings of red gold

     Will thy brother give thee,

     And the stead of Vandil

     And the lands of Vigdale;

     Have half of the land

     For thy sorrow's healing,

     O ring-arrayed sweetling

     For thee and thy sons!

 

     SIGRUN:

     No more sit I happy

     At Sevafell;

     At day-dawn, at night

     Naught love I my life

     Till broad o'er the people

     My lord's light breaketh;

     Till his war-horse runneth

     Beneath him hither,

     Well wont to the gold bit --

     Till my king I welcome.

 

     In such wise did Helgi

     Deal fear around

     To all his foes

     And all their friends

     As when the goat runneth

     Before the wolf's rage

     Filled with mad fear

     Down from the fell.

 

     As high above all lords

     Did Helgi beat him

     As the ash-tree's glory

     From the thorn ariseth,

     Or as the fawn

     With the dew-fell sprinkled

     Is far above

     All other wild things,

     As his horns go gleaming

     'Gainst the very heavens. 

A barrow was raised above Helgi, but when he came in Valhall, then Odin bade him be lord of all things there, even as he; so Helgi sang --

     HELGI:

     Now shalt thou, Hunding

     For the help of each man

     Get ready the foot-bath,

     And kindle the fire;

     The hounds shalt thou bind

     And give heed to the horses,

     Give wash to the swine

     Ere to sleep thou goest. 

A bondmaid of Sigrun went in the evening-tide by Helgi's mound, and there saw how Helgi rode toward it with a great company; then she sang --  

     BONDMAID:

     It is vain things' beguilling

     That methinks I behold,

     Or the ending of all things,

     As ye ride, O ye dead men,

     Smiting with spurs

     Your horses' sides?

     Or may dead warriors

     Wend their ways homeward?

 

     THE DEAD:

     No vain things' beguiling

     Is that thou beholdest,

     Nor the ruin of all things;

     Though thou lookest upon us,

     Though we smite with spurs

     Our horses' sides;

     Rather dead warriors

     May wend their ways homeward. 

Then went the bondmaid home, and told Sigrun, and sang --  

     BONDMAID:

     Go out, Sigrun

     From Sevafell,

     If thou listest to look on

     The lord of thy people!

     For the mound is uncovered

     Thither is Helgi come,

     And his wounds are bleeding,

     But the king thee biddeth

     To come and stay

     That stream of sorrow. 

So Sigrun went into the mound to Helgi, and sang --  

     SIGRUN:

     Now am I as fain

     Of this fair meeting,

     As are the hungry

     Hawks of Odin,

     When they wot of the slaying

     Of the yet warm quarry,

     Or bright with dew

     See the day a-dawning.

 

     Ah, I will kiss

     My king laid lifeless,

     Ere thou castest by

     Thy blood-stained byrny.

     O Helgi, thy hair

     Is thick with death's rime,

     With the dew of the dead

     Is my love all dripping;

     Dead-cold are the hands

     Of the son of Hogni;

     How for thee, O my king,

     May I win healing?

 

     HELGI:

     Thou alone, Sigrun

     Of Sevafell,

     Hast so done that Helgi

     With grief's dew drippeth;

     O clad in gold

     Cruel tears thou weepest,

     Bright May of the Southlands,

     Or ever thou sleepest;

     Each tear in blood falleth

     On the breast of thy lord,

     Cold wet and bitter-sharp

     Swollen with sorrow.

 

     Ah, we shall drink

     Dear draughts and lovely,

     Though, we have lost

     Both life and lands;

     Neither shall any

     Sing song of sorrow,

     Though in my breast

     Be wounds wide to behold:

     For now are brides

     In the mound abiding;

     Kings' daughters sit

     By us departed. 

Bow Sigrun arrayed a bed in the mound, and sang --  

     SIGRUN:

     Here, Helgi, for thee

     A bed have I dight,

     Kind without woe,

     O kin of the Ylfings!

     To thy bosom, O king,

     Will I come and sleep soft,

     As I was wont

     When my lord was living.

 

     HELGI:

     Now will I call

     Naught not to be hoped for

     Early or late

     At Sevafell,

     When thou in the arms

     Of a dead man art laid,

     White maiden of Hogni,

     Here in the mound:

     And thou yet quick,

     O King's daughter!

 

     Now needs must I ride

     On the reddening ways;

     My pale horse must tread

     The highway aloft;

     West must I go

     To Windhelm's bridge

     Ere the war-winning crowd

     Hall-crower (4) waketh. 

So Helgi rode his ways: and the others gat them gone home to the house. But the next night Sigrun bade the bondwoman have heed of the mound. So at nightfall, thenas Sigrun came to the mound, she sang:  

     SIGRUN:

     Here now would he come,

     If to come he were minded;

     Sigmund's offspring

     From the halls of Odin.

     O me the hope waneth

     Of Helgi's coming;

     For high on the ash-boughs

     Are the ernes abiding,

     And all folk drift

     Toward the Thing of the dreamland.

 

     BONDMAID:

     Be not foolish of heart,

     And fare all alone

     To the house of the dead,

     O Hero's daughter!

     For more strong and dreadful

     In the night season

     Are all dead warriors

     Than in the daylight. 

But a little while lived Sigrun, because of her sorrow and trouble. But in old time folk trowed that men should be born again, though their troth be now deemed but an old wife's dotting. And so, as folk say, Helgi and Sigrun were born again, and at that tide was he called Helgi the Scathe of Hadding, and she Kara the daughter of Halfdan; and she was a Valkyrie, even as is said in the Lay of Kara.

_______________

Notes:

(1) Only that part of the song is given which completes the episodes of Helgi Hunding's-bane; the earlier part of the song differs little from the Saga.

(2) Hogni, the father of Dar and Sigrun, had been slain by Helgi in battle, and Helgi had given peace to, and taken oaths of Dag.

(3) One of the rivers of the under-world.

(4) Hall-crower, "Salgofnir": lit. Hall-gaper, the cock of Valhall.

PART OF THE LAY OF SIGRDRIFA (1)

       Now this is my first counsel,

       That thou with thy kin

     Be guiltless, guileless ever,

       Nor hasty of wrath,

       Despite of wrong done --

     Unto the dead good that doeth.

 

       Lo the second counsel,

       That oath thou swearest never,

     But trusty oath and true:

       Grim tormenting

       Gripes troth-breakers;

     Cursed wretch is the wolf of vows.

 

       This is my third rede,

       That thou at the Thing

     Deal not with the fools of folk;

       For unwise man

       From mouth lets fall

     Worser word than well he wotteth.

 

       Yet hard it is

       That holding of peace

     When men shall deem thee dastard,

     Or deem the lie said soothly;

     But woeful is home-witness,

     Unless right good thou gettest it.

       Ah, on another day

       Drive the life from out him,

     And pay the liar back for his lying.

 

       Now behold the fourth rede:

       If ill witch thee bideth,

     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.

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Notes:

(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."

_______________

Notes:

(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.

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