“And he spake: ‘Hast thou hearkened, Sigurd? Wilt thou help a man that is oldTo avenge him for his father? Wilt thou win that treasure of goldAnd be more than the kings of the earth? Wilt thou rid the earth of a wrongAnd heal the woe and the sorrow my heart hath endured o’er long?’”
“And he spake: ‘Hast thou hearkened, Sigurd? Wilt thou help a man that is oldTo avenge him for his father? Wilt thou win that treasure of goldAnd be more than the kings of the earth? Wilt thou rid the earth of a wrongAnd heal the woe and the sorrow my heart hath endured o’er long?’”
“And he spake: ‘Hast thou hearkened, Sigurd? Wilt thou help a man that is oldTo avenge him for his father? Wilt thou win that treasure of goldAnd be more than the kings of the earth? Wilt thou rid the earth of a wrongAnd heal the woe and the sorrow my heart hath endured o’er long?’”
“And he spake: ‘Hast thou hearkened, Sigurd? Wilt thou help a man that is old
To avenge him for his father? Wilt thou win that treasure of gold
And be more than the kings of the earth? Wilt thou rid the earth of a wrong
And heal the woe and the sorrow my heart hath endured o’er long?’”
Sigurd’s sword.
Sigurd immediately assented, declaring, however, that the curse must be assumed by Regin, for he would have none of it; and, in order to be well prepared for the coming fight, he asked his master to forge him a sword which no blow could break. Twice Regin fashioned a marvelous weapon,but twice Sigurd broke it to pieces on the anvil. Then, declaring that he must have a sword which would not fail him in time of need, he begged the broken fragments of Sigmund’s weapon from his mother Hiordis, and either forged himself or made Regin forge a matchless blade, whose temper was such that it neatly severed some wool floating gently down the stream, and divided the great anvil in two without being even dinted.
After paying a farewell visit to Gripir, who, knowing the future, foretold every event in his coming career, Sigurd took leave of his mother, and accompanied by Regin set sail from his native land, promising to slay the dragon as soon as he had fulfilled his first duty, which was to avenge his father Sigmund’s death.
“‘First wilt thou, prince,Avenge thy father,And for the wrongs of EglymiWilt retaliate.Thou wilt the cruel,The sons of Hunding,Boldly lay low:Thou wilt have victory.’”Lay of Sigurd Fafnicide(Thorpe’s tr.).
“‘First wilt thou, prince,Avenge thy father,And for the wrongs of EglymiWilt retaliate.Thou wilt the cruel,The sons of Hunding,Boldly lay low:Thou wilt have victory.’”Lay of Sigurd Fafnicide(Thorpe’s tr.).
“‘First wilt thou, prince,Avenge thy father,And for the wrongs of EglymiWilt retaliate.Thou wilt the cruel,The sons of Hunding,Boldly lay low:Thou wilt have victory.’”
“‘First wilt thou, prince,
Avenge thy father,
And for the wrongs of Eglymi
Wilt retaliate.
Thou wilt the cruel,
The sons of Hunding,
Boldly lay low:
Thou wilt have victory.’”
Lay of Sigurd Fafnicide(Thorpe’s tr.).
On his way to the Volsung land Sigurd saw a man walking on the waters, and took him on board, little suspecting that this individual, who said his name was Feng or Fiöllnir, was Odin or Hnikar, the wave stiller. He therefore conversed freely with the stranger, who promised him favorable winds, and learned from him how to distinguish auspicious from unauspicious omens.
The fight with the dragon.
After slaying Lygni and cutting the bloody eagle on his foes, Sigurd left his reconquered kingdom and went with Regin to slay Fafnir. A long ride through the mountains, which rose higher and higher before him, brought him at last to his goal, where a one-eyed stranger bade him dig trenches in the middle of the track along which the dragon daily rolled his slimy length to go down to the river and quench histhirst. He then bade Sigurd cower in one of those holes, and there wait until the monster passed over him, when he could drive his trusty weapon straight into its heart.
SIGURD AND THE DRAGON.—K. Dielitz.
SIGURD AND THE DRAGON.—K. Dielitz.
Sigurd gratefully followed this advice, and as the monster’s loathsome, slimy folds rolled overhead he thrust his sword under its left breast, and, deluged with blood, sprang out of the trench as the dragon rolled aside in the throes of death.
“Then all sank into silence, and the son of Sigmund stoodOn the torn and furrowed desert by the pool of Fafnir’s blood,And the serpent lay before him, dead, chilly, dull, and gray;And over the Glittering Heath fair shone the sun and the day,And a light wind followed the sun and breathed o’er the fateful place,As fresh as it furrows the sea plain, or bows the acres’ face.”
“Then all sank into silence, and the son of Sigmund stoodOn the torn and furrowed desert by the pool of Fafnir’s blood,And the serpent lay before him, dead, chilly, dull, and gray;And over the Glittering Heath fair shone the sun and the day,And a light wind followed the sun and breathed o’er the fateful place,As fresh as it furrows the sea plain, or bows the acres’ face.”
“Then all sank into silence, and the son of Sigmund stoodOn the torn and furrowed desert by the pool of Fafnir’s blood,And the serpent lay before him, dead, chilly, dull, and gray;And over the Glittering Heath fair shone the sun and the day,And a light wind followed the sun and breathed o’er the fateful place,As fresh as it furrows the sea plain, or bows the acres’ face.”
“Then all sank into silence, and the son of Sigmund stood
On the torn and furrowed desert by the pool of Fafnir’s blood,
And the serpent lay before him, dead, chilly, dull, and gray;
And over the Glittering Heath fair shone the sun and the day,
And a light wind followed the sun and breathed o’er the fateful place,
As fresh as it furrows the sea plain, or bows the acres’ face.”
Regin, who had prudently remained at a distance until all danger was over, seeing his foe was slain, now came up to Sigurd; and fearing lest the strong young conqueror should glory in his deed and claim a reward, he began to accuse him of having murdered his kin, and declared that instead of requiring life for life, as was his right according to Northern law, he would consider it sufficient atonement if Sigurd would cut out the monster’s heart and roast it for him on a spit.
“Then Regin spake to Sigurd: ‘Of this slaying wilt thou be free?Then gather thou fire together and roast the heart for me,That I may eat it and live, and be thy master and more;For therein was might and wisdom, and the grudged and hoarded lore:—Or else depart on thy ways afraid from the Glittering Heath.’”
“Then Regin spake to Sigurd: ‘Of this slaying wilt thou be free?Then gather thou fire together and roast the heart for me,That I may eat it and live, and be thy master and more;For therein was might and wisdom, and the grudged and hoarded lore:—Or else depart on thy ways afraid from the Glittering Heath.’”
“Then Regin spake to Sigurd: ‘Of this slaying wilt thou be free?Then gather thou fire together and roast the heart for me,That I may eat it and live, and be thy master and more;For therein was might and wisdom, and the grudged and hoarded lore:—Or else depart on thy ways afraid from the Glittering Heath.’”
“Then Regin spake to Sigurd: ‘Of this slaying wilt thou be free?
Then gather thou fire together and roast the heart for me,
That I may eat it and live, and be thy master and more;
For therein was might and wisdom, and the grudged and hoarded lore:—
Or else depart on thy ways afraid from the Glittering Heath.’”
Sigurd, knowing that a true warrior never refused satisfaction of some kind to the kindred of the slain, immediately prepared to act as cook, while Regin dozed until the meat was ready. Feeling of the heart to ascertain whether it were tender, Sigurd burned his fingers so severely that he instinctively thrust them into his mouth to allay the smart. No sooner had Fafnir’s bloodtouched his lips than he discovered, to his utter surprise, that he could understand the songs of the birds, which were already gathering around the carrion. Listening to them attentively, he found they were advising him to slay Regin, appropriate the gold, eat the heart and drink the blood of the dragon; and as this advice entirely coincided with his own wishes, he lost no time in executing it. A small portion of Fafnir’s heart was reserved for future consumption, ere he wandered off in search of the mighty hoard. Then, after donning the Helmet of Dread, the hauberk of gold, and the ring Andvaranaut, and loading Greyfell with as much ruddy gold as he could carry, Sigurd sprang on his horse, listening eagerly to the birds’ songs to know what he had best undertake next.
The sleeping warrior maiden.
Soon he heard them sing of a warrior maiden fast asleep on a mountain and all surrounded by a glittering barrier of flames; through which only the bravest of men could pass in order to arouse her.
“On the fell I knowA warrior maid to sleep;Over her wavesThe linden’s bane:Ygg whilom stuckA sleep-thorn in the robeOf the maid whoWould heroes choose.”Lay of Fafnir(Thorpe’s tr.).
“On the fell I knowA warrior maid to sleep;Over her wavesThe linden’s bane:Ygg whilom stuckA sleep-thorn in the robeOf the maid whoWould heroes choose.”Lay of Fafnir(Thorpe’s tr.).
“On the fell I knowA warrior maid to sleep;Over her wavesThe linden’s bane:Ygg whilom stuckA sleep-thorn in the robeOf the maid whoWould heroes choose.”
“On the fell I know
A warrior maid to sleep;
Over her waves
The linden’s bane:
Ygg whilom stuck
A sleep-thorn in the robe
Of the maid who
Would heroes choose.”
Lay of Fafnir(Thorpe’s tr.).
After riding for a long while through trackless regions, Sigurd at last came to the Hindarfiall in Frankland, a tall mountain whose cloud-wreathed summit seemed circled by fiery flames.
“Long Sigurd rideth the waste, when, lo! on a morning of day,From out of the tangled crag walls, amidst the cloudland gray,Comes up a mighty mountain, and it is as though there burnsA torch amidst of its cloud wreath; so thither Sigurd turns,For he deems indeed from its topmost to look on the best of the earth;And Greyfell neigheth beneath him, and his heart is full of mirth.”
“Long Sigurd rideth the waste, when, lo! on a morning of day,From out of the tangled crag walls, amidst the cloudland gray,Comes up a mighty mountain, and it is as though there burnsA torch amidst of its cloud wreath; so thither Sigurd turns,For he deems indeed from its topmost to look on the best of the earth;And Greyfell neigheth beneath him, and his heart is full of mirth.”
“Long Sigurd rideth the waste, when, lo! on a morning of day,From out of the tangled crag walls, amidst the cloudland gray,Comes up a mighty mountain, and it is as though there burnsA torch amidst of its cloud wreath; so thither Sigurd turns,For he deems indeed from its topmost to look on the best of the earth;And Greyfell neigheth beneath him, and his heart is full of mirth.”
“Long Sigurd rideth the waste, when, lo! on a morning of day,
From out of the tangled crag walls, amidst the cloudland gray,
Comes up a mighty mountain, and it is as though there burns
A torch amidst of its cloud wreath; so thither Sigurd turns,
For he deems indeed from its topmost to look on the best of the earth;
And Greyfell neigheth beneath him, and his heart is full of mirth.”
Riding straight up this mountain, he saw the light grow more and more vivid, and soon a barrier of lurid flames stood before him; but although the fire crackled and roared, it could not daunt our hero, who plunged bravely into its very midst.
“Now Sigurd turns in his saddle, and the hilt of the Wrath he shifts,And draws a girth the tighter; then the gathered reins he lifts,And crieth aloud to Greyfell, and rides at the wildfire’s heart;But the white wall wavers before him and the flame-flood rusheth apart,And high o’er his head it riseth, and wide and wild its roarAs it beareth the mighty tidings to the very heavenly floor:But he rideth through its roaring as the warrior rides the rye,When it bows with the wind of the summer and the hid spears draw anigh;The white flame licks his raiment and sweeps through Greyfell’s mane,And bathes both hands of Sigurd and the hilt of Fafnir’s bane,And winds about his war-helm and mingles with his hair,But naught his raiment dusketh or dims his glittering gear;Then it fails and fades and darkens till all seems left behind,And dawn and the blaze is swallowed in mid-mirk stark and blind.”
“Now Sigurd turns in his saddle, and the hilt of the Wrath he shifts,And draws a girth the tighter; then the gathered reins he lifts,And crieth aloud to Greyfell, and rides at the wildfire’s heart;But the white wall wavers before him and the flame-flood rusheth apart,And high o’er his head it riseth, and wide and wild its roarAs it beareth the mighty tidings to the very heavenly floor:But he rideth through its roaring as the warrior rides the rye,When it bows with the wind of the summer and the hid spears draw anigh;The white flame licks his raiment and sweeps through Greyfell’s mane,And bathes both hands of Sigurd and the hilt of Fafnir’s bane,And winds about his war-helm and mingles with his hair,But naught his raiment dusketh or dims his glittering gear;Then it fails and fades and darkens till all seems left behind,And dawn and the blaze is swallowed in mid-mirk stark and blind.”
“Now Sigurd turns in his saddle, and the hilt of the Wrath he shifts,And draws a girth the tighter; then the gathered reins he lifts,And crieth aloud to Greyfell, and rides at the wildfire’s heart;But the white wall wavers before him and the flame-flood rusheth apart,And high o’er his head it riseth, and wide and wild its roarAs it beareth the mighty tidings to the very heavenly floor:But he rideth through its roaring as the warrior rides the rye,When it bows with the wind of the summer and the hid spears draw anigh;The white flame licks his raiment and sweeps through Greyfell’s mane,And bathes both hands of Sigurd and the hilt of Fafnir’s bane,And winds about his war-helm and mingles with his hair,But naught his raiment dusketh or dims his glittering gear;Then it fails and fades and darkens till all seems left behind,And dawn and the blaze is swallowed in mid-mirk stark and blind.”
“Now Sigurd turns in his saddle, and the hilt of the Wrath he shifts,
And draws a girth the tighter; then the gathered reins he lifts,
And crieth aloud to Greyfell, and rides at the wildfire’s heart;
But the white wall wavers before him and the flame-flood rusheth apart,
And high o’er his head it riseth, and wide and wild its roar
As it beareth the mighty tidings to the very heavenly floor:
But he rideth through its roaring as the warrior rides the rye,
When it bows with the wind of the summer and the hid spears draw anigh;
The white flame licks his raiment and sweeps through Greyfell’s mane,
And bathes both hands of Sigurd and the hilt of Fafnir’s bane,
And winds about his war-helm and mingles with his hair,
But naught his raiment dusketh or dims his glittering gear;
Then it fails and fades and darkens till all seems left behind,
And dawn and the blaze is swallowed in mid-mirk stark and blind.”
No sooner had Sigurd thus fearlessly sprung into the very heart of the flames than the fire flickered and died out, leaving nothing but a broad circle of white ashes, through which he rode until he came to a great castle, with shield-hung walls, in which he penetrated unchallenged, for the gates were wide open and no warders or men at arms were to be seen. Proceeding cautiously, for he feared some snare, Sigurd at last came to the center of the inclosure, where he saw a recumbent form all cased in armor. To remove the helmet was but a moment’s work, but Sigurd started back in surprise when he beheld, instead of a warrior, the sleeping face of a most beautiful woman.
All his efforts to awaken her were quite vain, however, until he had cut the armor off her body, and she lay before him in pure-white linen garments, her long golden hair rippling and waving around her. As the last fastening of her armor gave way, she opened wide her beautiful eyes, gazed in rapture upon the rising sun, and after greeting it with enthusiasm she turned to her deliverer, whom she loved at first sight, as he loved her.
“Then she turned and gazed on Sigurd, and her eyes met the Volsung’s eyes.And mighty and measureless now did the tide of his love arise,For their longing had met and mingled, and he knew of her heart that she loved,And she spake unto nothing but him, and her lips with the speech-flood moved.”
“Then she turned and gazed on Sigurd, and her eyes met the Volsung’s eyes.And mighty and measureless now did the tide of his love arise,For their longing had met and mingled, and he knew of her heart that she loved,And she spake unto nothing but him, and her lips with the speech-flood moved.”
“Then she turned and gazed on Sigurd, and her eyes met the Volsung’s eyes.And mighty and measureless now did the tide of his love arise,For their longing had met and mingled, and he knew of her heart that she loved,And she spake unto nothing but him, and her lips with the speech-flood moved.”
“Then she turned and gazed on Sigurd, and her eyes met the Volsung’s eyes.
And mighty and measureless now did the tide of his love arise,
For their longing had met and mingled, and he knew of her heart that she loved,
And she spake unto nothing but him, and her lips with the speech-flood moved.”
The maiden now proceeded to inform Sigurd that she was Brunhild, according to some authorities the daughter of an earthly king. Odin had raised her to the rank of a Valkyr, in which capacity she had served him faithfully for a long while. But once she had ventured to set her own wishes above his, and, instead of leaving the victory to the old king for whom he had designated it, had favored his younger and therefore more attractive opponent.
In punishment for this act of disobedience, she was deprived of her office and banished to earth, where Allfather decreed she must marry like any other member of her sex. This sentence filled Brunhild’s heart with dismay, for she greatly feared lest it might be her fate to mate with a coward, whom she would despise. To quiet these apprehensions, Odin placed her on Hindarfiall or Hindfell, stung her with the Thorn of Sleep, that she might await in unchanged youth and beauty the coming of her destined husband and surrounded her with a barrier of flame which none but the bravest would venture to pass through.
From the top of the Hindarfiall, Brunhild now pointed out to Sigurd her former home, at Lymdale or Hunaland, telling him he would find her there whenever he chose to come and claim her as his wife; and then, while they stood on the lonely mountain top together, Sigurd placed the ring Andvaranaut upon her hand, in sign of betrothal, swearing to love her alone as long as life endured.
BRUNHILD’S AWAKENING.—Th. Pixis.
BRUNHILD’S AWAKENING.—Th. Pixis.
“From his hand then draweth Sigurd Andvari’s ancient Gold;There is naught but the sky above them as the ring together they hold,The shapen-ancient token, that hath no change nor end,No change, and no beginning, no flaw for God to mend:Then Sigurd cries: ‘O Brynhild, now hearken while I swearThat the sun shall die in the heavens and the day no more be fair,If I seek not love in Lymdale and the house that fostered thee,And the land where thou awakedst ’twixt the woodland and the sea!And she cried: ‘O Sigurd, Sigurd, now hearken while I swearThat the day shall die forever and the sun to blackness wear,Ere I forget thee, Sigurd, as I lie ’twixt wood and seaIn the little land of Lymdale and the house that fostered me!’”
“From his hand then draweth Sigurd Andvari’s ancient Gold;There is naught but the sky above them as the ring together they hold,The shapen-ancient token, that hath no change nor end,No change, and no beginning, no flaw for God to mend:Then Sigurd cries: ‘O Brynhild, now hearken while I swearThat the sun shall die in the heavens and the day no more be fair,If I seek not love in Lymdale and the house that fostered thee,And the land where thou awakedst ’twixt the woodland and the sea!And she cried: ‘O Sigurd, Sigurd, now hearken while I swearThat the day shall die forever and the sun to blackness wear,Ere I forget thee, Sigurd, as I lie ’twixt wood and seaIn the little land of Lymdale and the house that fostered me!’”
“From his hand then draweth Sigurd Andvari’s ancient Gold;There is naught but the sky above them as the ring together they hold,The shapen-ancient token, that hath no change nor end,No change, and no beginning, no flaw for God to mend:Then Sigurd cries: ‘O Brynhild, now hearken while I swearThat the sun shall die in the heavens and the day no more be fair,If I seek not love in Lymdale and the house that fostered thee,And the land where thou awakedst ’twixt the woodland and the sea!And she cried: ‘O Sigurd, Sigurd, now hearken while I swearThat the day shall die forever and the sun to blackness wear,Ere I forget thee, Sigurd, as I lie ’twixt wood and seaIn the little land of Lymdale and the house that fostered me!’”
“From his hand then draweth Sigurd Andvari’s ancient Gold;
There is naught but the sky above them as the ring together they hold,
The shapen-ancient token, that hath no change nor end,
No change, and no beginning, no flaw for God to mend:
Then Sigurd cries: ‘O Brynhild, now hearken while I swear
That the sun shall die in the heavens and the day no more be fair,
If I seek not love in Lymdale and the house that fostered thee,
And the land where thou awakedst ’twixt the woodland and the sea!
And she cried: ‘O Sigurd, Sigurd, now hearken while I swear
That the day shall die forever and the sun to blackness wear,
Ere I forget thee, Sigurd, as I lie ’twixt wood and sea
In the little land of Lymdale and the house that fostered me!’”
The fostering of Aslaug.
According to some authorities, after thus plighting their troth the lovers parted; according to others, Sigurd soon sought out and married Brunhild, with whom he lived for a while in perfect happiness, until forced to leave her and his infant daughter Aslaug. This child, left orphaned at three years of age, was fostered by Brunhild’s father, who, driven away from home, concealed her in a cunningly fashioned harp, until reaching a distant land he was murdered by a peasant couple for the sake of the gold they supposed it to contain. Their surprise and disappointment were great indeed when, on breaking the instrument open, they found a beautiful little girl, whom they deemed mute, as she would not speak a word. Time passed on, and the child, whom they had trained to do all their labor, grew up to be a beautiful maiden who won the affections of a passing viking, Ragnar Lodbrog, King of the Danes, to whom she told her tale. After a year’s probation, during which he won glory in many lands, he came back and married her.
“She heard a voice she deemed well known,Long waited through dull hours bygone,And round her mighty arms were cast:But when her trembling red lips passedFrom out the heaven of that dear kiss,And eyes met eyes, she saw in hisFresh pride, fresh hope, fresh love, and sawThe long sweet days still onward draw,Themselves still going hand in hand,As now they went adown the strand.”The Fostering of Aslaug(William Morris).
“She heard a voice she deemed well known,Long waited through dull hours bygone,And round her mighty arms were cast:But when her trembling red lips passedFrom out the heaven of that dear kiss,And eyes met eyes, she saw in hisFresh pride, fresh hope, fresh love, and sawThe long sweet days still onward draw,Themselves still going hand in hand,As now they went adown the strand.”The Fostering of Aslaug(William Morris).
“She heard a voice she deemed well known,Long waited through dull hours bygone,And round her mighty arms were cast:But when her trembling red lips passedFrom out the heaven of that dear kiss,And eyes met eyes, she saw in hisFresh pride, fresh hope, fresh love, and sawThe long sweet days still onward draw,Themselves still going hand in hand,As now they went adown the strand.”
“She heard a voice she deemed well known,
Long waited through dull hours bygone,
And round her mighty arms were cast:
But when her trembling red lips passed
From out the heaven of that dear kiss,
And eyes met eyes, she saw in his
Fresh pride, fresh hope, fresh love, and saw
The long sweet days still onward draw,
Themselves still going hand in hand,
As now they went adown the strand.”
The Fostering of Aslaug(William Morris).
The story of Sigurd and Brunhild did not end on the Hindarfial, however, for the hero soon went to seek adventures in the great world, where he had vowed, in true knightly fashion, to right the wrong and defend the fatherless and oppressed.
The Niblungs.
In the course of his wanderings, Sigurd finally came to the land of the Niblungs, the land of continual mist, where Giuki and Grimhild were king and queen. The latter was specially powerful, as she was well versed in magic lore and could not only weave spells and mutter incantations, but could also concoct marvelous potions which would steep the drinker in temporary forgetfulness and make him yield to whatever she wished.
The Niblung king was father of three sons, Gunnar, Högni, and Guttorm, who were brave young men, and of one daughter, Gudrun, the gentlest as well as the most beautiful of maidens. Sigurd was warmly welcomed by Giuki, and invited to tarry awhile. He accepted the invitation, shared all the pleasures and occupations of the Niblungs, even accompanying them to war, where he distinguished himself by his valor, and so won the admiration of Grimhild that she resolved to secure him as her daughter’s husband at any price. She therefore brewed one of her magic potions, which she bade Gudrun give him, and when he had partaken of it, he utterly forgot Brunhild and his plighted troth, and gazed upon Gudrun with an admiration which by the queen’s machinations was soon changed to ardent love.
“But the heart was changed in Sigurd; as though it ne’er had beenHis love of Brynhild perished as he gazed on the Niblung Queen:Brynhild’s beloved body was e’en as a wasted hearth,No more for bale or blessing, for plenty or for dearth.”
“But the heart was changed in Sigurd; as though it ne’er had beenHis love of Brynhild perished as he gazed on the Niblung Queen:Brynhild’s beloved body was e’en as a wasted hearth,No more for bale or blessing, for plenty or for dearth.”
“But the heart was changed in Sigurd; as though it ne’er had beenHis love of Brynhild perished as he gazed on the Niblung Queen:Brynhild’s beloved body was e’en as a wasted hearth,No more for bale or blessing, for plenty or for dearth.”
“But the heart was changed in Sigurd; as though it ne’er had been
His love of Brynhild perished as he gazed on the Niblung Queen:
Brynhild’s beloved body was e’en as a wasted hearth,
No more for bale or blessing, for plenty or for dearth.”
Although haunted by a vague dread that he had forgotten something important, Sigurd asked for and obtained Gudrun’s hand, and celebrated his wedding amid the rejoicings of the people, who loved him very dearly. He gave his bride some of Fafnir’s heart to eat, and the moment she had tasted it her nature was changed, and she began to grow cold and silent to all except him. Sigurd further cemented his alliance with the eldest two Giukings (as the sons of Giuki were called) by stepping down into the doom ring with them, cutting out a sod which was placed upon a shield, beneath which they stood while they bared and slightly cut their right arms, and allowing their blood to mingle in the fresh earth, over which the sod was again laid after they had sworn eternal friendship.
But although Sigurd loved his wife and felt true brotherly affection for her brothers, he could not get rid of his haunting sense of oppression, and was seldom seen to smile as radiantly as of old. Giuki having died, Grimhild besought Gunnar, his successor, to take a wife, suggesting that none seemed more worthy to become Queen of the Niblungs than Brunhild, who, it was reported, sat in a golden hall surrounded by flames, whence she had declared she would issue only to marry the warrior who would dare pass through the fire to her side.
Gunnar’s stratagem.
Gunnar immediately prepared to seek this bride, and strengthened by one of his mother’s magic potions, and encouraged by Sigurd, who accompanied him, he felt very confident of success. But when he would daringly have ridden straight into the fire, his steed drew back affrighted and he could not induce him to advance a step. Seeing that Greyfell did not flinch, he asked him of Sigurd; but although the steed allowed Gunnar to mount, he would not stir unless his master were on his back. Gunnar, disappointed, sprang to earth and accepted Sigurd’s proposal to assume his face and form, ride through the flames, and woo the bride by proxy. This deception could easily be carried out, thanks to the Helmet of Dread, and to a magic potion which Grimhild had given Gunnar.
The transformation having been brought about, Greyfell bounded through the flames with his master, and bore him to the palace door, where he dismounted, and entering the large hall came into the presence of Brunhild, whom he failed to recognize, owing to Grimhild’s spell. Brunhild started back in dismay when she saw the dark-haired knight, for she had deemed it utterly impossible for any but Sigurd to cross the flames, and she, too, did not know her lover in his altered guise.
Reluctantly she rose from her seat to receive him, and as she had bound herself by a solemn oath to accept as husband the man who braved the flames, she allowed him to take his lawful place by her side. Sigurd silently approached, carefully laid his drawn sword between them, and satisfied Brunhild’s curiosity concerning this singular behavior by telling her that the gods had bidden him celebrate his wedding thus.
“There they went in one bed together; but the foster-brother laid’Twixt him and the body of Brynhild his bright blue battle-blade,And she looked and heeded it nothing; but, e’en as the dead folk lie,With folded hands she lay there, and let the night go by:And as still lay that image of Gunnar as the dead of life forlorn,And hand on hand he folded as he waited for the morn.So oft in the moonlit minster your fathers may ye seeBy the side of the ancient mothers await the day to be.”
“There they went in one bed together; but the foster-brother laid’Twixt him and the body of Brynhild his bright blue battle-blade,And she looked and heeded it nothing; but, e’en as the dead folk lie,With folded hands she lay there, and let the night go by:And as still lay that image of Gunnar as the dead of life forlorn,And hand on hand he folded as he waited for the morn.So oft in the moonlit minster your fathers may ye seeBy the side of the ancient mothers await the day to be.”
“There they went in one bed together; but the foster-brother laid’Twixt him and the body of Brynhild his bright blue battle-blade,And she looked and heeded it nothing; but, e’en as the dead folk lie,With folded hands she lay there, and let the night go by:And as still lay that image of Gunnar as the dead of life forlorn,And hand on hand he folded as he waited for the morn.So oft in the moonlit minster your fathers may ye seeBy the side of the ancient mothers await the day to be.”
“There they went in one bed together; but the foster-brother laid
’Twixt him and the body of Brynhild his bright blue battle-blade,
And she looked and heeded it nothing; but, e’en as the dead folk lie,
With folded hands she lay there, and let the night go by:
And as still lay that image of Gunnar as the dead of life forlorn,
And hand on hand he folded as he waited for the morn.
So oft in the moonlit minster your fathers may ye see
By the side of the ancient mothers await the day to be.”
Three days passed thus, and when the fourth morning dawned, Sigurd drew the ring Andvaranaut from Brunhild’s hand, replaced it by another, and received her solemn promise that in ten days’ time she would appear at the Niblung court to take up her duties as queen and be a faithful wife.
GUDRUN GIVING THE MAGIC DRINK TO SIGURD.—Th. Pixis.
GUDRUN GIVING THE MAGIC DRINK TO SIGURD.—Th. Pixis.
“I thank thee, King, for thy goodwill, and thy pledge of love I take.Depart with my troth to thy people: but ere full ten days are o’erI shall come to the Sons of the Niblungs, and then shall we part no moreTill the day of the change of our life-days, when Odin and Freya shall call.”
“I thank thee, King, for thy goodwill, and thy pledge of love I take.Depart with my troth to thy people: but ere full ten days are o’erI shall come to the Sons of the Niblungs, and then shall we part no moreTill the day of the change of our life-days, when Odin and Freya shall call.”
“I thank thee, King, for thy goodwill, and thy pledge of love I take.Depart with my troth to thy people: but ere full ten days are o’erI shall come to the Sons of the Niblungs, and then shall we part no moreTill the day of the change of our life-days, when Odin and Freya shall call.”
“I thank thee, King, for thy goodwill, and thy pledge of love I take.
Depart with my troth to thy people: but ere full ten days are o’er
I shall come to the Sons of the Niblungs, and then shall we part no more
Till the day of the change of our life-days, when Odin and Freya shall call.”
Then Sigurd again passed out of the palace through the ashes lying white and cold, and joined Gunnar, with whom he hastened to exchange forms once more, after he had reported the success of his venture. The warriors rode homeward together, and Sigurd revealed only to Gudrun the secret of her brother’s wooing, giving her the fatal ring, which he little suspected would be the cause of many woes.
True to her promise, Brunhild appeared ten days later, solemnly blessed the house she was about to enter, greeted Gunnar kindly, and allowed him to conduct her to the great hall, where she saw Sigurd seated beside Gudrun. He looked up at the selfsame moment, and as he encountered Brunhild’s reproachful glance Grimhild’s spell was broken and he was struck by an anguished recollection of the happy past. It was too late, however: they were both in honor bound, he to Gudrun and she to Gunnar, whom she passively followed to the high seat, where she sat beside him listening to the songs of the bards.
But, although apparently calm, Brunhild’s heart was hot with anger, and she silently nursed her wrath, often stealing out of her husband’s palace to wander alone in the forest, where she could give vent to her grief.
In the mean while, Gunnar, seeing his wife so coldly indifferent to all his protestations of affection, began to have jealous suspicions and wondered whether Sigurd had honestly told the whole story of the wooing, and whether he had not taken advantage of his position to win Brunhild’s love. Sigurd alone continued the even tenor of his way, doing good to all, fighting none but tyrants and oppressors, and cheering all he met by his kindly words and smile.
Quarrel of the queens.
One day the queens went down to the Rhine to bathe, and as they were entering the water Gudrun claimed precedence by right of her husband’s courage. Brunhild refused to yield what she deemed her right, and a quarrel ensued, in the course of which Gudrun accused her sister-in-law of infidelity, producing the ring Andvaranaut in support of hercharge. Crushed by this revelation, Brunhild hastened homeward, and lay on her bed in speechless grief day after day, until all thought she would die. In vain did Gunnar and all the members of the royal family seek her in turn and implore her to speak; she would not utter a word until Sigurd came and inquired the cause of her great grief. Like a long-pent-up stream, her love and anger now burst forth, and she overwhelmed the hero with reproaches, until his heart swelled with grief for her sorrow and burst the tight bands of his strong armor.
“Out went SigurdFrom that interviewInto the hall of kings,Writhing with anguish;So that began to startThe ardent warrior’sIron-woven sarkOff from his sides.”Sæmund’s Edda(Thorpe’s tr.).
“Out went SigurdFrom that interviewInto the hall of kings,Writhing with anguish;So that began to startThe ardent warrior’sIron-woven sarkOff from his sides.”Sæmund’s Edda(Thorpe’s tr.).
“Out went SigurdFrom that interviewInto the hall of kings,Writhing with anguish;So that began to startThe ardent warrior’sIron-woven sarkOff from his sides.”
“Out went Sigurd
From that interview
Into the hall of kings,
Writhing with anguish;
So that began to start
The ardent warrior’s
Iron-woven sark
Off from his sides.”
Sæmund’s Edda(Thorpe’s tr.).
But although he even offered to repudiate Gudrun to reinstate her in her former rights, she refused to listen to his words, and dismissed him, saying that she must never prove faithless to Gunnar. Her pride was such, however, that she could not endure the thought that two living men had called her wife, and the next time her husband sought her presence she implored him to put Sigurd to death, thus increasing his jealousy and suspicions. He refused to grant this prayer because he had sworn good fellowship with Sigurd, and she prevailed upon Högni to work her will. As he, too, did not wish to violate his oath, he induced Guttorm, by means of much persuasion and one of Grimhild’s potions, to do the dastardly deed.
Death of Sigurd.
In the dead of night, Guttorm stole into Sigurd’s chamber, sword in hand; but as he bent over the bed he saw Sigurd’s bright eyes fixed upon him, and fled precipitately. Later on he returned and the same scene was repeated; but towards morning, when he stole in for the third time, he foundthe hero asleep and traitorously drove his spear through his back.
Mortally wounded, Sigurd raised himself in bed, grasped his wonderful sword hanging beside him, flung it full at the flying murderer, and cut him in two just as he reached the door. His last remaining strength thus exhausted, Sigurd sank back, whispered a last farewell to the terrified Gudrun, and breathed his last.
“‘Mourn not, O Gudrun, this stroke is the last of ill;Fear leaveth the house of the Niblungs on this breaking of the morn;Mayest thou live, O woman belovèd, unforsaken, unforlorn!It is Brynhild’s deed,’ he murmured, ‘and the woman that loves me well;Naught now is left to repent of, and the tale abides to tell.I have done many deeds in my life-days; and all these, and my love they lieIn the hollow hand of Odin till the day of the world go by.I have done and I may not undo, I have given and I take not again:Art thou other than I, Allfather, wilt thou gather my glory in vain?’”
“‘Mourn not, O Gudrun, this stroke is the last of ill;Fear leaveth the house of the Niblungs on this breaking of the morn;Mayest thou live, O woman belovèd, unforsaken, unforlorn!It is Brynhild’s deed,’ he murmured, ‘and the woman that loves me well;Naught now is left to repent of, and the tale abides to tell.I have done many deeds in my life-days; and all these, and my love they lieIn the hollow hand of Odin till the day of the world go by.I have done and I may not undo, I have given and I take not again:Art thou other than I, Allfather, wilt thou gather my glory in vain?’”
“‘Mourn not, O Gudrun, this stroke is the last of ill;Fear leaveth the house of the Niblungs on this breaking of the morn;Mayest thou live, O woman belovèd, unforsaken, unforlorn!It is Brynhild’s deed,’ he murmured, ‘and the woman that loves me well;Naught now is left to repent of, and the tale abides to tell.I have done many deeds in my life-days; and all these, and my love they lieIn the hollow hand of Odin till the day of the world go by.I have done and I may not undo, I have given and I take not again:Art thou other than I, Allfather, wilt thou gather my glory in vain?’”
“‘Mourn not, O Gudrun, this stroke is the last of ill;
Fear leaveth the house of the Niblungs on this breaking of the morn;
Mayest thou live, O woman belovèd, unforsaken, unforlorn!
It is Brynhild’s deed,’ he murmured, ‘and the woman that loves me well;
Naught now is left to repent of, and the tale abides to tell.
I have done many deeds in my life-days; and all these, and my love they lie
In the hollow hand of Odin till the day of the world go by.
I have done and I may not undo, I have given and I take not again:
Art thou other than I, Allfather, wilt thou gather my glory in vain?’”
Sigurd’s infant son was also slain, and poor Gudrun mourned over her dead in speechless, tearless grief; while Brunhild laughed aloud, thereby incurring the wrath of Gunnar, who repented now, but too late, of his share in the dastardly crime.
While the assembled people were erecting a mighty funeral pyre—which they decorated with precious hangings, fresh flowers, and glittering arms, as was the custom for the burial of a prince—Gudrun was surrounded by women, who, seeing her tearless anguish, and fearing lest her heart would break if her tears did not flow, began to recount the bitterest sorrows they had known, one even telling of the loss of all she held dear. But their attempts to make her weep were utterly vain, until they laid her husband’s head in her lap, bidding her kiss him as if he were still alive; then her tears began to flow in torrents.
The reaction soon set in for Brunhild also; her resentment wasall forgotten when she saw Sigurd laid on the pyre in all his martial array, with the burnished armor, the Helmet of Dread, and the trappings of his horse, which was to be burned with him, as well as several of his faithful servants who could not survive his loss. She withdrew to her apartment, distributed all her wealth among her handmaidens, donned her richest array, and stretching herself out upon her bed stabbed herself.
In dying accents she then bade Gunnar lay her beside the hero she loved, with the glittering, unsheathed sword between them, as it had lain when he had wooed her by proxy. When she had breathed her last, these orders were punctually executed, and both bodies were burned amid the lamentations of all the Niblungs.
“They are gone—the lovely, the mighty, the hope of the ancient Earth:It shall labor and bear the burden as before that day of their birth:It shall groan in its blind abiding for the day that Sigurd hath sped,And the hour that Brynhild hath hastened, and the dawn that waketh the dead:It shall yearn, and be oft-times holpen, and forget their deeds no more,Till the new sun beams on Balder and the happy sealess shore.”
“They are gone—the lovely, the mighty, the hope of the ancient Earth:It shall labor and bear the burden as before that day of their birth:It shall groan in its blind abiding for the day that Sigurd hath sped,And the hour that Brynhild hath hastened, and the dawn that waketh the dead:It shall yearn, and be oft-times holpen, and forget their deeds no more,Till the new sun beams on Balder and the happy sealess shore.”
“They are gone—the lovely, the mighty, the hope of the ancient Earth:It shall labor and bear the burden as before that day of their birth:It shall groan in its blind abiding for the day that Sigurd hath sped,And the hour that Brynhild hath hastened, and the dawn that waketh the dead:It shall yearn, and be oft-times holpen, and forget their deeds no more,Till the new sun beams on Balder and the happy sealess shore.”
“They are gone—the lovely, the mighty, the hope of the ancient Earth:
It shall labor and bear the burden as before that day of their birth:
It shall groan in its blind abiding for the day that Sigurd hath sped,
And the hour that Brynhild hath hastened, and the dawn that waketh the dead:
It shall yearn, and be oft-times holpen, and forget their deeds no more,
Till the new sun beams on Balder and the happy sealess shore.”
According to another version of the story, Sigurd was treacherously slain by the Giukings while hunting in the forest, and his body was borne home by the hunters and laid at his wife’s feet.
Gudrun, still inconsolable, and loathing the kindred who had thus treacherously robbed her of all her joy, fled from her father’s house and took refuge with Elf, Sigurd’s foster father, who, after Hiordis’s death, had married Thora, the daughter of King Hakon. The two women became great friends, and here Gudrun tarried several years, working tapestry in which she embroidered the great deeds of Sigurd, and watching over her little daughter Swanhild, whose bright eyes reminded her so vividly of the husband whom she had lost.
BRUNHILD.—Th. Pixis.
BRUNHILD.—Th. Pixis.
Atli, King of the Huns.
In the mean while, Atli, Brunhild’s brother, who was now King of the Huns, had sent to Gunnar to demand atonement for his sister’s death; and to satisfy these claims Gunnar had promised that in due time he would give him Gudrun’s hand in marriage. Time passed, and when at last Atli clamored for the fulfillment of his promise, the Niblung brothers, with their mother Grimhild, went to seek the long-absent Gudrun, and by their persuasions and the magic potion administered by Grimhild succeeded in persuading her to leave little Swanhild in Denmark and become Atli’s wife.
Gudrun dwelt, year after year, in the land of the Huns, secretly hating her husband, whose avaricious tendencies were extremely repugnant to her; and she was not even consoled for Sigurd’s death and Swanhild’s loss by the birth of two sons, Erp and Eitel. As she lovingly thought of the past she often spoke of it, little suspecting that her descriptions of the wealth of the Niblungs excited Atli’s greed, and that he was secretly planning some pretext for getting it into his power.
Finally he decided to send Knefrud or Wingi, one of his subjects, to invite all the Niblung princes to visit his court, intending to slay them when he should have them at his mercy; but Gudrun, fathoming this design, sent a runic-written warning to her brothers, together with the ring Andvaranaut, around which she had twined a wolf’s hair. On the way, however, the messenger partly effaced the runes, thus changing their meaning; and when he appeared before the Niblungs, Gunnar accepted the invitation, in spite of Högni’s and Grimhild’s warnings and the ominous dream of his new wife Glaumvor.
Burial of the Niblung treasure.
Before his departure, however, they prevailed upon him to secretly bury the great Niblung hoard in the Rhine, where it was sunk in a deep hole, the position of which was known to the royal brothers only, and which they took a solemn oath never to reveal.
“Down then and whirling outward the ruddy Gold fell forth,As a flame in the dim gray morning flashed out a kingdom’s worth;Then the waters roared above it, the wan water and the foamFlew up o’er the face of the rock-wall as the tinkling Gold fell home,Unheard, unseen forever, a wonder and a tale,Till the last of earthly singers from the sons of men shall fail.”
“Down then and whirling outward the ruddy Gold fell forth,As a flame in the dim gray morning flashed out a kingdom’s worth;Then the waters roared above it, the wan water and the foamFlew up o’er the face of the rock-wall as the tinkling Gold fell home,Unheard, unseen forever, a wonder and a tale,Till the last of earthly singers from the sons of men shall fail.”
“Down then and whirling outward the ruddy Gold fell forth,As a flame in the dim gray morning flashed out a kingdom’s worth;Then the waters roared above it, the wan water and the foamFlew up o’er the face of the rock-wall as the tinkling Gold fell home,Unheard, unseen forever, a wonder and a tale,Till the last of earthly singers from the sons of men shall fail.”
“Down then and whirling outward the ruddy Gold fell forth,
As a flame in the dim gray morning flashed out a kingdom’s worth;
Then the waters roared above it, the wan water and the foam
Flew up o’er the face of the rock-wall as the tinkling Gold fell home,
Unheard, unseen forever, a wonder and a tale,
Till the last of earthly singers from the sons of men shall fail.”
The treachery of Atli.
In martial array they then rode out of the city of the Niblungs, which they were never again to see, and after many unimportant adventures came into the land of the Huns, where, on reaching Atli’s hall and finding themselves surrounded by foes, they slew the traitor Knefrud, and prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible.
Gudrun rushed to meet them, embraced them tenderly, and, seeing that they must fight, grasped a weapon and loyally helped them in the terrible massacre which ensued. When the first onslaught was over, Gunnar kept up the spirits of his followers by playing on his harp, which he laid aside only to grasp his sword and make havoc among the foe. Thrice the brave Niblungs resisted the assault of the Huns ere, wounded, faint, and weary, Gunnar and Högni, now sole survivors, fell into the hands of their foes, who bound them securely and led them off to prison to await death.
Atli, who had prudently abstained from taking any active part in the fight, had his brothers-in-law brought in turn before him, promising freedom if they would only reveal the hiding place of the golden hoard; but they proudly kept silence, and it was only after much torture that Gunnar acknowledged that he had sworn a solemn oath never to reveal the secret as long as Högni lived, and declared he would believe his brother dead only when his heart was brought to him on a platter.
“With a dreadful voice cried Gunnar: ‘O fool, hast thou heard it toldWho won the Treasure aforetime and the ruddy rings of the Gold?It was Sigurd, child of the Volsungs, the best sprung forth from the best:He rode from the North and the mountains, and became my summer-guest,My friend and my brother sworn: he rode the Wavering Fire,And won me the Queen of Glory and accomplished my desire;The praise of the world he was, the hope of the biders in wrong,The help of the lowly people, the hammer of the strong:Ah! oft in the world, henceforward, shall the tale be told of the deed,And I, e’en I, will tell it in the day of the Niblungs’ Need:For I sat night-long in my armor, and when light was wide o’er the landI slaughtered Sigurd my brother, and looked on the work of mine hand.And now, O mighty Atli, I have seen the Niblung’s wreck,And the feet of the faint-heart dastard have trodden Gunnar’s neck;And if all be little enough, and the Gods begrudge me rest,Let me see the heart of Högni cut quick from his living breastAnd laid on the dish before me: and then shall I tell of the Gold,And become thy servant, Atli, and my life at thy pleasure hold.’”
“With a dreadful voice cried Gunnar: ‘O fool, hast thou heard it toldWho won the Treasure aforetime and the ruddy rings of the Gold?It was Sigurd, child of the Volsungs, the best sprung forth from the best:He rode from the North and the mountains, and became my summer-guest,My friend and my brother sworn: he rode the Wavering Fire,And won me the Queen of Glory and accomplished my desire;The praise of the world he was, the hope of the biders in wrong,The help of the lowly people, the hammer of the strong:Ah! oft in the world, henceforward, shall the tale be told of the deed,And I, e’en I, will tell it in the day of the Niblungs’ Need:For I sat night-long in my armor, and when light was wide o’er the landI slaughtered Sigurd my brother, and looked on the work of mine hand.And now, O mighty Atli, I have seen the Niblung’s wreck,And the feet of the faint-heart dastard have trodden Gunnar’s neck;And if all be little enough, and the Gods begrudge me rest,Let me see the heart of Högni cut quick from his living breastAnd laid on the dish before me: and then shall I tell of the Gold,And become thy servant, Atli, and my life at thy pleasure hold.’”
“With a dreadful voice cried Gunnar: ‘O fool, hast thou heard it toldWho won the Treasure aforetime and the ruddy rings of the Gold?It was Sigurd, child of the Volsungs, the best sprung forth from the best:He rode from the North and the mountains, and became my summer-guest,My friend and my brother sworn: he rode the Wavering Fire,And won me the Queen of Glory and accomplished my desire;The praise of the world he was, the hope of the biders in wrong,The help of the lowly people, the hammer of the strong:Ah! oft in the world, henceforward, shall the tale be told of the deed,And I, e’en I, will tell it in the day of the Niblungs’ Need:For I sat night-long in my armor, and when light was wide o’er the landI slaughtered Sigurd my brother, and looked on the work of mine hand.And now, O mighty Atli, I have seen the Niblung’s wreck,And the feet of the faint-heart dastard have trodden Gunnar’s neck;And if all be little enough, and the Gods begrudge me rest,Let me see the heart of Högni cut quick from his living breastAnd laid on the dish before me: and then shall I tell of the Gold,And become thy servant, Atli, and my life at thy pleasure hold.’”
“With a dreadful voice cried Gunnar: ‘O fool, hast thou heard it told
Who won the Treasure aforetime and the ruddy rings of the Gold?
It was Sigurd, child of the Volsungs, the best sprung forth from the best:
He rode from the North and the mountains, and became my summer-guest,
My friend and my brother sworn: he rode the Wavering Fire,
And won me the Queen of Glory and accomplished my desire;
The praise of the world he was, the hope of the biders in wrong,
The help of the lowly people, the hammer of the strong:
Ah! oft in the world, henceforward, shall the tale be told of the deed,
And I, e’en I, will tell it in the day of the Niblungs’ Need:
For I sat night-long in my armor, and when light was wide o’er the land
I slaughtered Sigurd my brother, and looked on the work of mine hand.
And now, O mighty Atli, I have seen the Niblung’s wreck,
And the feet of the faint-heart dastard have trodden Gunnar’s neck;
And if all be little enough, and the Gods begrudge me rest,
Let me see the heart of Högni cut quick from his living breast
And laid on the dish before me: and then shall I tell of the Gold,
And become thy servant, Atli, and my life at thy pleasure hold.’”
Urged by greed, Atli immediately ordered that Högni’s heart should be brought; but his servants, fearing to lay hands on such a grim warrior, slew the cowardly scullion Hialli. This trembling heart called forth contemptuous words from Gunnar, who declared such a timorous organ could never have belonged to his fearless brother. But when, in answer to a second angry command from Atli, the unquivering heart of Högni was really brought, Gunnar recognized it, and turning to the monarch solemnly swore that since the secret now rested with him alone it would never be revealed.
The last of the Niblungs.
Livid with anger, the king bade him be thrown, with bound hands, into a den of venomous snakes, where, his harp having been flung after him in derision, Gunnar calmly sat, playing it with his toes, and lulling all the reptiles to sleep save one only. This snake was said to be Atli’s mother in disguise, and it finally bit him in the side, silencing his triumphant song forever.
To celebrate the death of his foes, Atli ordered a great feast, commanding Gudrun to be present to wait upon him. Then he heartily ate and drank, little suspecting that his wife had slainboth his sons, and was serving up their roasted hearts and their blood mixed with wine in cups made of their skulls. When the king and his men were intoxicated, Gudrun, according to one version of the story, set fire to the palace, and when the drunken sleepers awoke, too late to escape, she revealed all she had done, stabbed her husband, and perished in the flames with the Huns. According to another version, however, she murdered Atli with Sigurd’s sword, placed his body on a ship, which she sent adrift, and then cast herself into the sea, where she was drowned.
“She spread out her arms as she spake it, and away from the earth she leaptAnd cut off her tide of returning; for the sea-waves over her swept,And their will is her will henceforward, and who knoweth the deeps of the sea,And the wealth of the bed of Gudrun, and the days that yet shall be?”
“She spread out her arms as she spake it, and away from the earth she leaptAnd cut off her tide of returning; for the sea-waves over her swept,And their will is her will henceforward, and who knoweth the deeps of the sea,And the wealth of the bed of Gudrun, and the days that yet shall be?”
“She spread out her arms as she spake it, and away from the earth she leaptAnd cut off her tide of returning; for the sea-waves over her swept,And their will is her will henceforward, and who knoweth the deeps of the sea,And the wealth of the bed of Gudrun, and the days that yet shall be?”
“She spread out her arms as she spake it, and away from the earth she leapt
And cut off her tide of returning; for the sea-waves over her swept,
And their will is her will henceforward, and who knoweth the deeps of the sea,
And the wealth of the bed of Gudrun, and the days that yet shall be?”
A third and very different version reports that Gudrun was not drowned, but was borne along by the waves to the land where Jonakur was king. There she became his wife, and the mother of three sons, Sörli, Hamdir, and Erp. She also recovered possession of her beloved daughter Swanhild, who, in the mean while, had grown into a beautiful maiden of marriageable age.
Swanhild.
Swanhild was finally promised to Ermenrich, King of Gothland, who sent his son, Randwer, and one of his subjects, Sibich, to escort the bride to his kingdom. Sibich, who was a traitor, and had planned to compass the death of the royal family that he might claim the kingdom, accused Randwer of having tried to win his young stepmother’s affections, and thereby so roused the anger of Ermenrich that he ordered his son to be hanged, and Swanhild to be trampled to death under the feet of wild horses. But such was the beauty of this daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun that even the wild steeds could not be urged to touch her until she had been hidden from their view under a great blanket, when they trod her to death under their cruel hoofs.
HÖGNI THROWING THE TREASURE INTO THE RHINE.—Julius Schnorr.
HÖGNI THROWING THE TREASURE INTO THE RHINE.—Julius Schnorr.
Gudrun, hearing of this, called her three sons to her side, and provided them with armor and weapons against which nothing but stone could prevail. Then, after bidding them depart and avenge their murdered sister, she died of grief, and was burned on a great pyre. The three youths, Sörli, Hamdir, and Erp, invaded Ermenrich’s kingdom, but the two eldest, deeming Erp too young to assist them, taunted him with his small size, and finally slew him. They then attacked Ermenrich, cut off his hands and feet, and would have slain him had not a one-eyed stranger suddenly appeared and bidden the bystanders throw stones at the young invaders. His orders were immediately carried out, and Sörli and Hamdir both fell under the shower of stones, which alone had power to injure them according to Gudrun’s words.
“Ye have heard of Sigurd aforetime, how the foes of God he slew;How forth from the darksome desert the Gold of the Waters he drew;How he wakened Love on the Mountain, and wakened Brynhild the Bright,And dwelt upon Earth for a season, and shone in all men’s sight.Ye have heard of the Cloudy People, and the dimming of the day,And the latter world’s confusion, and Sigurd gone away;Now ye know of the Need of the Niblungs and the end of broken troth,All the death of kings and of kindreds and the Sorrow of Odin the Goth.”
“Ye have heard of Sigurd aforetime, how the foes of God he slew;How forth from the darksome desert the Gold of the Waters he drew;How he wakened Love on the Mountain, and wakened Brynhild the Bright,And dwelt upon Earth for a season, and shone in all men’s sight.Ye have heard of the Cloudy People, and the dimming of the day,And the latter world’s confusion, and Sigurd gone away;Now ye know of the Need of the Niblungs and the end of broken troth,All the death of kings and of kindreds and the Sorrow of Odin the Goth.”
“Ye have heard of Sigurd aforetime, how the foes of God he slew;How forth from the darksome desert the Gold of the Waters he drew;How he wakened Love on the Mountain, and wakened Brynhild the Bright,And dwelt upon Earth for a season, and shone in all men’s sight.Ye have heard of the Cloudy People, and the dimming of the day,And the latter world’s confusion, and Sigurd gone away;Now ye know of the Need of the Niblungs and the end of broken troth,All the death of kings and of kindreds and the Sorrow of Odin the Goth.”
“Ye have heard of Sigurd aforetime, how the foes of God he slew;
How forth from the darksome desert the Gold of the Waters he drew;
How he wakened Love on the Mountain, and wakened Brynhild the Bright,
And dwelt upon Earth for a season, and shone in all men’s sight.
Ye have heard of the Cloudy People, and the dimming of the day,
And the latter world’s confusion, and Sigurd gone away;
Now ye know of the Need of the Niblungs and the end of broken troth,
All the death of kings and of kindreds and the Sorrow of Odin the Goth.”
Interpretation of the Saga.
This story of the Volsungs is supposed by some authorities to be a series of sun myths, in which Sigi, Rerir, Volsung, Sigmund, and Sigurd in turn personify the glowing orb of day. They are all armed with invincible swords, the sunbeams, and all travel through the world fighting against their foes, the demons of cold and darkness. Sigurd, like Balder, is beloved of all; he marries Brunhild, the dawn maiden, whom he finds in the midst of flames, the flush of morn, and parts from her only to find her again when his career is ended. His body is burned on the funeral pyre, which, like Balder’s, representseither the setting sun or the last gleam of summer, of which he too is a type. The slaying of Fafnir is the destruction of the demon of cold or darkness, who has stolen the golden hoard of summer or the yellow rays of the sun.
According to other authorities this Saga is based upon history. Atli is the cruel Attila, the “Scourge of God,” while Gunnar is Gundicarius, a Burgundian monarch, whose kingdom was destroyed by the Huns, and who was slain with his brothers in 451. Gudrun is the Burgundian princess Ildico, who slew her husband on her wedding night, as has already been related, using the glittering blade which had once belonged to the sun-god to avenge her murdered kinsmen.