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

Howso little it quaketh Laid here on the dish, Yet far less it quaked In the breast of him laid. "So far mayst thou bide From men's eyen, O Atli, As from that treasure Thou shalt abide! "Behold in my heart Is hidden for ever That hoard of the Niblungs, Now Hogni is dead. Doubt threw me two ways While the twain of us lived, But all that is gone Now I live on alone. "The great Rhine shall rule O'er the hate-raising treasure, That gold of the Niblungs, The seed of the gods: In the weltering water Shall that wealth lie a-gleaming, Or it shine on the hands Of the children of Huns!" Then cried Atli, King of the Hun-folk, "Drive forth your wains now The slave is fast bounden." And straightly thence The bit-shaking steeds Drew the hoard-warden, The war-god to his death. Atli the great king, Rode upon Glaum, With shields set round about, And sharp thorns of battle: Gudrun, bound by wedlock To these, victory made gods of, Held back her tears As the hall she ran into. "Let it fare with thee, Atli, E'en after thine oaths sworn To Gunnar fell often; Yea, oaths sworn of old time, By the sun sloping southward, By the high burg of Sigry, By the fair bed of rest, By the red ring of Ull!" Now a host of men Cast the high king alive Into a close Crept o'er within With most foul worms, Fulfilled of all venom, Ready grave to dig In his doughty heart. Wrathful-hearted he smote The harp with his hand, Gunnar laid there alone; And loud rang the strings.— In such wise ever Should hardy ring-scatterer Keep gold from all folk In the garth of his foeman. Then Atli would wend About his wide land, On his steed brazen shod, Back from the murder. Din there was in the garth, All thronged with the horses; High the weapon-song rose From men come from the heath. Out then went Gudrun, 'Gainst Atli returning, With a cup gilded over, To greet the land's ruler; "Come, then, and take it, King glad in thine hall, From Gudrun's hands, For the hell-farers groan not!" Clashed the beakers of Atli, Wine-laden on bench, As in hall there a-gathered, The Huns fell a-talking, And the long-bearded eager ones Entered therein, From a murk den new-come, From the murder of Gunnar. Then hastened the sweet-faced Delight of the shield-folk, Bright in the fair hall, Wine to bear to them: The dreadful woman Gave dainties withal To the lords pale with fate, Laid strange word upon Atli: "The hearts of thy sons Hast thou eaten, sword-dealer, All bloody with death And drenched with honey: In most heavy mood Brood o'er venison of men! Drink rich draughts therewith, Down the high benches send it! "Never callest thou now From henceforth to thy knee Fair Erp or fair Eiril, Bright-faced with the drink; Never seest thou them now Amidmost the seat, Scattering the gold, Or shafting of spears; Manes trimming duly, Or driving steeds forth!" Din arose from the benches, Dread song of men was there, Noise 'mid the fair hangings, As all Hun's children wept; All saving Gudrun, Who never gat greeting, For her brethren bear-hardy For her sweet sons and bright, The young ones, the simple Once gotten with Atli. ............... The seed of gold Sowed the swan-bright woman, Rings of red gold She gave to the house-carls; Fate let she wax, Let the bright gold flow forth, In naught spared that woman The store-houses' wealth. Atli unaware Was a-weary with drink; No weapon had he, No heeding of Gudrun— Ah, the pity would be better, When in soft wise they twain Would full often embrace Before the great lords! To the bed with sword-point Blood gave she to drink With a hand fain of death, And she let the dogs loose: Then in from the hall-door— —Up waked the house-carls— Hot brands she cast, Gat revenge for her brethren. To the flame gave she all Who therein might be found; Fell adown the old timbers, Reeked all treasure-houses; There the shield-mays were burnt, Their lives' span brought to naught; In the fierce fire sank down All the stead of the Budlungs. Wide told of is this— Ne'er sithence in the world, Thus fared bride clad in byrny For her brothers' avenging; For behold, this fair woman To three kings of the people, Hath brought very death Or ever she died!