The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs Part 6

But the song sprang up in the hall, and merry was Sigmund's heart, And he drank of the wine of King-folk and thrust all care apart.

Then the second time came Borghild and stood before the twain, And she said: "O valiant step-son, how oft shall I say it in vain, That my hate for thee hath perished, and the love hath sprouted green?

Wilt thou thrust my gift away, and shame the hand of a queen?"

So he took the cup from her fingers, and pondered over it long, And thought on the labour that should be, and the wrong that amendeth wrong.

Then spake Sigmund the King: "O son, what aileth thine heart, When the earls of men are merry, and thrust all care apart?"

But he said: "I have looked in the cup, and I see the deadly snare."

"Well seen it is," quoth Sigmund, "but thy burden I may bear."

And he took the beaker and drained it, and the song rose up in the hall; And fair bethought King Sigmund his latter days befall.

But again came Borghild the Queen and stood with the cup in her hand, And said: "They are idle liars, those singers of every land Who sing how thou fearest nothing; for thou losest valour and might, And art fain to live for ever."

Then she stretched forth her fingers white, And he took the cup from her hand, nor drank, but pondered long Of the toil that begetteth toil, and the wrong that beareth wrong.

But Sigmund turned him about, and he said: "What aileth thee, son?

Shall our life-days never be merry, and our labour never be done?"

But Sinfiotli said: "I have looked, and lo there is death in the cup."

And the song, and the tinkling of harp-strings to the roof-tree winded up: And Sigmund was dreamy with wine and the wearing of many a year; And the noise and the glee of the people as the sound of the wild woods were, And the blossoming boughs of the Branstock were the wild trees waving about; So he said: "Well seen, my fosterling; let the lip then strain it out."

Then Sinfiotli laughed and answered: "I drink unto Odin then, And the Dwellers up in G.o.d-home, the lords of the lives of men."

He drank as he spake the word, and forthwith the venom ran In a chill flood over his heart, and down fell the mighty man With never an uttered death-word and never a death-changed look, And the floor of the hall of the Volsungs beneath his falling shook.

Then up rose the elder of days with a great and bitter cry And lifted the head of the fallen, and none durst come anigh To hearken the words of his sorrow, if any words he said, But such as the Father of all men might speak over Baldur dead.

And again, as before the death-stroke, waxed the hall of the Volsungs dim, And once more he seemed in the forest, where he spake with nought but him.

Then he lifted him up from the hall-floor and bore him on his breast, And men who saw Sinfiotli deemed his heart had gotten rest, And his eyes were no more dreadful. Forth fared the Volsung child With Signy's son through the doorway; and the wind was great and wild, And the moon rode high in the heavens, and whiles it shone out bright, And whiles the clouds drew over. So went he through the night, Until the dwellings of man-folk were a long while left behind.

Then came he unto the thicket and the houses of the wind, And the feet of the h.o.a.ry mountains, and the dwellings of the deer, And the heaths without a shepherd, and the houseless dales and drear.

Then lo, a mighty water, a rus.h.i.+ng flood and wide, And no ferry for the s.h.i.+pless; so he went along its side, As a man that seeketh somewhat: but it widened toward the sea, And the moon sank down in the west, and he went o'er a desert lea.

But lo, in that dusk ere the dawning a glimmering over the flood, And the sound of the cleaving of waters, and Sigmund the Volsung stood By the edge of the swirling eddy, and a white-sailed boat he saw, And its keel ran light on the strand with the last of the dying flaw.

But therein was a man most mighty, grey-clad like the mountain-cloud, One-eyed and seeming ancient, and he spake and hailed him aloud:

"Now whither away, King Sigmund, for thou farest far to-night?"

Spake the King: "I would cross this water, for my life hath lost its light, And mayhap there be deeds for a king to be found on the further sh.o.r.e."

"My senders," quoth the s.h.i.+pman, "bade me waft a great king o'er, So set thy burden a s.h.i.+pboard, for the night's face looks toward day."

So betwixt the earth and the water his son did Sigmund lay; But lo, when he fain would follow, there was neither s.h.i.+p nor man, Nor aught but his empty bosom beside that water wan, That whitened by little and little as the night's face looked to the day.

So he stood a long while gazing and then turned and gat him away; And ere the sun of the noon-tide across the meadows shone Sigmund the King of the Volsungs was set in his father's throne, And he hearkened and doomed and portioned, and did all the deeds of a king.

So the autumn waned and perished, and the winter brought the spring.

_Of the last battle of King Sigmund, and the death of him._

Now is Queen Borghild driven from the Volsung's bed and board, And unwedded sitteth Sigmund an exceeding mighty lord, And fareth oft to the war-field, and addeth fame to fame: And where'er are the great ones told of his sons shall the people name; But short was their day of harvest and their reaping of renown, And while men stood by to marvel they gained their latest crown.

So Sigmund alone abideth of all the Volsung seed, And the folk that the G.o.ds had fas.h.i.+oned lest the earth should lack a deed And he said: "The tree was stalwart, but its boughs are old and worn.

Where now are the children departed, that amidst my life were born?

I know not the men about me, and they know not of my ways: I am nought but a picture of battle, and a song for the people to praise.

I must strive with the deeds of my kings.h.i.+p, and yet when mine hour is come It shall meet me as glad as the goodman when he bringeth the last load home."

Now there was a king of the Islands, whom the tale doth Eylimi call, And saith he was wise and valiant, though his kingdom were but small: He had one only daughter that Hiordis had to name, A woman wise and shapely beyond the praise of fame.

And now saith the son of King Volsung that his time is short enow To labour the Volsung garden, and the hand must be set to the plough: So he sendeth an earl of the people to King Eylimi's high-built hall, Bearing the gifts and the tokens, and this word in his mouth withal:

"King Sigmund the son of Volsung hath sent me here with a word That plenteous good of thy daughter among all folk he hath heard, And he wooeth that wisest of women that she may sit on his throne, And lie in the bed of the Volsungs, and be his wife alone.

And he saith that he thinketh surely she shall bear the kings of the earth, And maybe the best and the greatest of all who are deemed of worth.

Now hereof would he have an answer within a half-month's s.p.a.ce, And these gifts meanwhile he giveth for the increase of thy grace."

So King Eylimi hearkened the message, and hath no word to say, For an earl of King Lyngi the mighty is come that very day, He too for the wooing of Hiordis: and Lyngi's realm is at hand, But afar King Sigmund abideth o'er many a sea and land: And the man is young and eager, and grim and guileful of mood.

At last he sayeth: "Abide here such s.p.a.ce as thou deemest good, But tomorn shalt thou have thine answer that thine heart may the lighter be For the hearkening of harp and songcraft, and the dealing with game and glee."

Then he went to Queen Hiordis bower, where she worked in the silk and the gold The deeds of the world that should be, and the deeds that were of old.

And he stood before her and said: "I have spoken a word, time was, That thy will should rule thy wedding; and now hath it come to pa.s.s That again two kings of the people will woo thy body to bed."

So she rose to her feet and hearkened: "And which be they?" she said.

He spake: "The first is Lyngi, a valiant man and a fair, A neighbour ill for thy father, if a foe's name he must bear: And the next is King Sigmund the Volsung of a land far over sea, And well thou knowest his kindred, and his might and his valiancy, And the tales of his heart of a G.o.d; and though old he be waxen now, Yet men deem that the wide world's blossom from Sigmund's loins shall grow."

Said Hiordis: "I wot, my father, that hereof may strife arise; Yet soon spoken is mine answer; for I, who am called the wise, Shall I thrust by the praise of the people, and the tale that no ending hath, And the love and the heart of the G.o.dlike, and the heavenward-leading path, For the rose and the stem of the lily, and the smooth-lipped youngling's kiss, And the eyes' desire that pa.s.seth, and the frail unstable bliss?

Now shalt thou tell King Sigmund, that I deem it the crown of my life To dwell in the house of his fathers amidst all peace and strife, And to bear the sons of his body: and indeed full well I know That fair from the loins of Sigmund shall such a stem outgrow That all folk of the earth shall be praising the womb where once he lay And the paps that his lips have cherished, and shall bless my happy day."

Now the king's heart sore misgave him, but herewith must he be content, And great gifts to the earl of Lyngi and a word withal he sent, That the woman's troth was plighted to another people's king.

But King Sigmund's earl on the morrow hath joyful yea-saying, And ere two moons be perished he shall fetch his bride away.

"And bid him," King Eylimi sayeth, "to come with no small array, But with sword and s.h.i.+eld and war-shaft, lest aught of ill betide."

So forth goes the earl of Sigmund across the sea-flood wide, And comes to the land of the Volsungs, and meeteth Sigmund the king, And tells how he sped on his errand, and the joyful yea-saying.

So King Sigmund maketh him ready, and they ride adown to the sea All glorious of gear and raiment, and a goodly company.

Yet hath Sigmund thought of his father, and the deed he wrought before, And hath scorn to gather his people and all his hosts of war To wend to the feast and the wedding: yet are their long-s.h.i.+ps ten, And the s.h.i.+elded folk aboard them are the mightiest men of men.

So Sigmund goeth a s.h.i.+pboard, and they hoist their sails to the wind, And the beaks of the golden dragons leave the Volsungs' land behind.

Then come they to Eylimi's kingdom, and good welcome have they there, And when Sigmund looked on Hiordis, he deemed her wise and fair.

But her heart was exceeding fain when she saw the glorious king, And it told her of times that should be full many a n.o.ble thing.

So there is Sigmund wedded at a great and goodly feast, And day by day on Hiordis the joy of her heart increased; And her father joyed in Sigmund and his might and majesty, And dead in the heart of the Isle-king his ancient fear did lie.

Yet, forsooth, had men looked seaward, they had seen the gathering cloud, And the little wind arising, that should one day pipe so loud.

For well may ye wot indeed that King Lyngi the Mighty is wroth, When he getteth the gifts and the answer, and that tale of the woman's troth: And he saith he will have the gifts and the woman herself withal, Either for loving or hating, and that both those heads shall fall.

So now when Sigmund and Hiordis are wedded a month or more, And the Volsung bids men dight them to cross the sea-flood o'er, Lo, how there cometh the tidings of measureless mighty hosts Who are gotten ash.o.r.e from their long-s.h.i.+ps on the skirts of King Eylimi's coasts.

Sore boded the heart of the Isle-king of what the end should be.

But Sigmund long beheld him, and he said: "Thou deem'st of me That my coming hath brought thee evil; but put aside such things; For long have I lived, and I know it, that the lives of mighty kings Are not cast away, nor drifted like the down before the wind; And surely I know, who say it, that never would Hiordis' mind Have been turned to wed King Lyngi or aught but the Volsung seed Come, go we forth to the battle, that shall be the latest deed Of thee and me meseemeth: yea, whether thou live or die, No more shall the brand of Odin at peace in his scabbard lie."

And therewith he brake the peace-strings and drew the blade of bale, And Death on the point abided, Fear sat on the edges pale.

So men ride adown to the sea-strand, and the kings their hosts array When the high noon flooded heaven; and the men of the Volsungs lay, With King Eylimi's s.h.i.+elded champions mid Lyngi's hosts of war, As the brown pips lie in the apple when ye cut it through the core.