The Story of the Volsungs (Volsunga Saga); with Excerpts from the Poetic Edda, - [e book reading free .txt] 📗

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