Stories and Ballads of the Far Past Part 13

Nought save the truth will I tell to thee That will surely come about!

Believe me, maiden, Tyrfing will be A curse upon all thy progeny Till thy race be blotted out.

A son shalt thou bear, as I prophesy, Who shall fight with Tyrfing mightily, And trust to Tyrfing's might.

I tell thee Heithrek shall be his name, The n.o.blest man and of greatest fame Of all under Heaven's light.

Hervor:

On all you dead this curse I cry:-- Mouldering and rotting shall ye lie With the spirits in the tomb!

Out of the barrow, Angantyr, Give me the keen-edged Tyrfing here, The sword called 'Hjalmar's Doom'!

Angantyr:

Surely unlike to a mortal thou To wander about from howe to howe, And stand in the doorway here!

In the horror of night-time, my little maid, Thou comest with helmet and byrnie and blade, And shakest thy graven spear!

Hervor:

A mortal maiden is she who comes, Arousing the corpses within their tombs, And will not be denied:-- Give me from out the barrow's shade The keen-edged sword that the dwarf-folk made, Which it ill becomes thee to hide!

Angantyr:

The sword that the death-stroke to Hjalmar gave Lies under my shoulders within the grave, And wrapped about with flame.

But that maiden lives not in any land Who dare grasp the weapon within her hand For any hope of fame.

Hervor:

There lives, O Angantyr, a maid Who yearns to handle the keen-edged blade, And such a maid am I!

And what care I though the tomb fires blaze!

They sink and tremble before my gaze, They quiver out and die!

Angantyr:

O Hervor, 'tis folly and madness dire To rush wide-eyed through the flaming fire With courage undismayed.

Rather by far will I give to thee The accursed sword, though unwillingly, My little, tender maid.

Hervor:

O son of the vikings, well hast thou done In giving me Tyrfing from out the tomb; And happier am I today That I now grasp Tyrfing within my hands Than if I were queen of the broad Northlands, And conqueror of Noroway.

Angantyr:

Vain is thy rapture, my luckless maid!

Thy hopes are false. All too soon will fade The flush of joy from thy face.

Try, child, to listen; I am warning thee!-- This sword is the sword of destiny, The destroyer of all thy race!

Hervor:

Away, away to my 'ocean-steed'!

The daughter of princes is glad indeed, O glad at heart today!

And what care I for the destiny Of children as yet undreamed by me?-- Let them quarrel as they may!

Angantyr:

Thou shalt have and enjoy without sorrow or pain The blade which proved to be Hjalmar's bane, If thou draw it not from its sheath.

Worse than a plague is this cursed thing.

Touch not its edges, for poisons cling Above it and beneath.

Farewell, yet fain would I give to thee The life that has pa.s.sed from my brothers and me, O daughter, 'tis truth I say!

--The strength and vigour and hardihood, --All that we had that was great and good, That has vanished and pa.s.sed away!

Hervor:

Farewell, farewell to all you dead!

Farewell! I would that I were sped!

Farewell all you in the mound!...

Surely in terror I drew my breath Between the Worlds of Life and Death When the grave fires girt me round!

[Footnote 1: Two lines are missing from the MS. at this point.]

Then she returned towards her s.h.i.+ps; but when dawn came, she saw that they had departed. The vikings had been scared by the rumblings and the flames on the island. She got a s.h.i.+p to carry her away; but nothing is told of her voyage till she came to Guthmund in Glasisvellir, where she remained all through the winter, still calling herself Hervarth.

VI. One day Guthmund was playing chess, and when the game was almost up, he asked if anyone could advise him as to his moves. So Hervarth went up to him and began to direct his moves; and it was not long before Guthmund began to win. Then somebody took up Tyrfing and drew it. When Hervarth saw this, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the sword out of his hands, and slew him, and then left the room. They wanted to rush out in pursuit, but Guthmund said:

"Don't stir--you will not be avenged on the man so easily as you think, for you don't know who he is. This woman-man will cost you dear before you take his life."

After that Hervor spent a long time in piracy and had great success.

And when she grew tired of that she went home to the Earl, her mother's father. There she behaved like other girls, working at her embroidery and fine needlework.

Hofund, the son of Guthmund, heard of this and went and asked for the hand of Hervor, and was accepted; and he took her home.

Hofund was a very wise man and so just in his judgments that he never swerved from giving a correct decision, whether the persons involved were natives or foreigners. And it is from him that the 'hofund' or judge of law-suits takes his name in every realm.

He and Hervor had two sons. One was called Angantyr, the other Heithrek. They were both big strong men--sensible and handsome.

Angantyr resembled his father in character and was kindly disposed towards everyone. Hofund loved him very much, as indeed did everybody.

But however much good he did, Heithrek did still more evil. He was Hervor's favourite. His foster-father was called Gizur.

One day Hofund held a feast and invited all the chief men in his kingdom except Heithrek. This greatly displeased him, but he put in an appearance all the same, declaring that he would do them some mischief. And when he entered the hall, Angantyr rose and went to meet him and invited him to sit beside him. Heithrek was not cheerful, but he sat till late in the evening after Angantyr had gone; and then he turned to the men who sat on either side of him and worked upon them by his conversation in such a way that they became infuriated with each other. But when Angantyr came back he told them to be quiet. And when Angantyr went out a second time, Heithrek reminded them of his words, and worked upon them to such an extent that one of them struck the other. Then Angantyr returned and persuaded them to keep the peace till morning. And the third time Angantyr went away, Heithrek asked the man who had been struck why he had not the courage to avenge himself. And so effective did his persuasion prove that he who had been struck sprang up and slew his companion. When Angantyr returned, he was displeased at what had taken place. And when Hofund heard of it, he told Heithrek that he must either leave his kingdom or forfeit his life.

So Heithrek went out, and his brother with him. Then his mother came up and gave him Tyrfing. And Heithrek said to her:

"I don't know when I shall be able to show as much difference in my treatment of my father and mother as they do in their treatment of me.

My father proclaims me an outlaw while my mother has given me Tyrfing, which is of more account to me than a great territory. But I shall do that very thing that will most distress my father."

He then drew the sword, which gleamed and flashed brilliantly, and then he got into a great rage and showed the berserk's fury coming upon him. The two brothers were alone. Now since Tyrfing had to be the death of a man every time it was drawn, Heithrek dealt his brother his death-blow. Hofund was told of it, and Heithrek escaped at once to the woods. Hofund had a funeral feast made for his son Angantyr, and he was lamented by everybody.

Heithrek got little joy of his deed and lived in the woods for a long time, shooting deer and bears for food. And when he came to think over his position, he reflected that there would be but a poor tale to tell if no-one was to know what had become of him; and it occurred to him that he could even yet become a man famous for deeds of prowess like his ancestors before him. So he went home and sought out his mother and begged her to ask his father to give him some sound advice before they parted. She went to Hofund and asked him to give their son sound advice. Hofund replied that he would give him a little, but added that it would turn out to his disadvantage nevertheless; he said however that he would not ignore his request:

"In the first place he must not aid a man who has slain his liege lord. Secondly, he must not protect a man who has slain one of his comrades. Thirdly, his wife ought not to be always leaving home to visit her relatives. Fourthly, he ought not to stay out late with his sweetheart. Fifthly, he should not ride his best horse when he is in a hurry. Sixthly, he ought not to bring up the child of a man in a better position than himself. Seventhly, let him always be cheerful towards one who comes for hospitality. Eighthly, he should never lay Tyrfing on the ground.--Yet he will not get any benefit from this advice."