Complete Works of William Morris, page 601
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 at the feet,
Two hounds therewith,
And two hawks moreover:
Then is all dealt
With even dealing.
“Lay there amidst us
The right-dight metal,
The sharp-edged steel,
That so lay erst;
When we both together
Into one bed went,
And were called by the name
Of man and wife.
“Never, then, belike
Shall clash behind him
Valhall’s bright door
With rings bedight:
And if my fellowship
Followeth after,
In no wretched wise
Then shall we wend.
“For him shall follow
My five bondmaids,
My eight bondsmen,
No borel folk:
Yea, and my fosterer,
And my father’s dower
That Budli of old days
Gave to his dear child.
“Much have I spoken,
More would I speak,
If the sword would give me
Space for speech;
But my words are waning,
My wounds are swelling —
Naught but truth have I told —
— And now make I ending.”
ENDNOTES:
(1) “Menia’s Maid” — periphrasis for gold.
THE HELL-RIDE OF BRYNHILD.
After the death of Brynhild were made two bales, one for Sigurd, and that was first burned; but Brynhild was burned on the other, and she was in a chariot hung about with goodly hangings.
And so folk say that Brynhild drave in her chariot down along the way to Hell, and passed by an abode where dwelt a certain giantess, and the giantess spake: —
THE GIANT-WOMAN
“Nay, with my goodwill
Never goest thou
Through this stone-pillared
Stead of mine!
More seemly for thee
To sit sewing the cloth,
Than to go look on
The love of another.
“What dost thou, going
From the land of the Gauls,
O restless head,
To this mine house?
Golden girl, hast thou not,
If thou listest to hearken,
In sweet wise from thy hands
The blood of men washen?”
BRYNHILD
“Nay, blame me naught,
Bride of the rock-hall,
Though I roved a warring
In the days that were;
The higher of us twain
Shall I ever be holden
When of our kind
Men make account.”
THE GIANT-WOMAN
“Thou, O Brynhild,
Budli’s daughter,
Wert the worst ever born
Into the world;
For Giuki’s children
Death hast thou gotten,
And turned to destruction
Their goodly dwelling.”
BRYNHILD
“I shall tell thee
True tale from my chariot,
O thou who naught wottest,
If thou listest to wot;
How for me they have gotten
Those heirs of Giuki,
A loveless life,
A life of lies.
“Hild under helm,
The Hlymdale people,
E’en those who knew me,
Ever would call me.
“The changeful shapes
Of us eight sisters,
The wise king bade
Under oak-tree to bear;
Of twelve winters was I,
If thou listest to wot,
When I sware to the young lord
Oaths of love.
“Thereafter gat I
Mid the folk of the Goths,
For Helmgunnar the old,
Swift journey to Hell,
And gave to Aud’s brother
The young, gain and glory;
Whereof overwrath
Waxed Odin with me.
“So he shut me in shield-wall
In Skata grove,
Red shields and white
Close set around me;
And bade him alone
My slumber to break
Who in no land
Knew how to fear.
“He set round my hall,
Toward the south quarter,
The Bane of all trees
Burning aloft;
And ruled that he only
Thereover should ride
Who should bring me the gold
O’er which Fafnir brooded.
“Then upon Grani rode
The goodly gold-strewer
To where my fosterer
Ruled his fair dwelling.
He who alone there
Was deemed best of all,
The War-lord of the Danes,
Well worthy of men.
“In peace did we sleep
Soft in one bed,
As though he had been
Naught but my brother:
There as we lay
Through eight nights wearing,
No hand in love
On each other we laid.
“Yet thence blamed me, Gudrun,
Giuki’s daughter,
That I had slept
In the arms of Sigurd;
And then I wotted
As I fain had not wotted,
That they had bewrayed me
In my betrothals.
“Ah! For unrest
All too long
Are men and women
Made alive!
Yet we twain together
Shall wear through the ages,
Sigurd and I. —
— Sink adown, O giant-wife!”
FRAGMENTS OF THE LAY OF BRYNHILD
HOGNI SAID:
“What hath wrought Sigurd
Of any wrong-doing
That the life of the famed one
Thou art fain of taking?”
GUNNAR SAID:
“To me has Sigurd
Sworn many oaths,
Sworn many oaths,
And sworn them lying,
And he bewrayed me
When it behoved him
Of all folk to his troth
To be the most trusty.”
HOGNI SAID:
“Thee hath Brynhild
Unto all bale,
And all hate whetted,
And a work of sorrow;
For she grudges to Gudrun
All goodly life;
And to thee the bliss
Of her very body.”
..........
Some the wolf roasted,
Some minced the worm,
Some unto Guttorm
Gave the wolf-meat,
Or ever they might
In their lust for murder
On the high king
Lay deadly hand.
Sigurd lay slain
On the south of the Rhine
High from the fair tree
Croaked forth the raven,
“Ah, yet shall Atli
On you redden edges,
The old oaths shall weigh
On your souls, O warriors.”
Without stood Gudrun,
Giuki’s daughter,
And the first word she said
Was even this word:
“Where then is Sigurd,
Lord of the Warfolk,
Since my kin
Come riding the foremost?
One word Hogni
Had for an answer:
“Our swords have smitten
Sigurd asunder,
And the grey horse hangs drooping
O’er his lord lying dead.”
Then quoth Brynhild,
Budli’s daughter;
“Good weal shall ye have
Of weapons and lands,
That Sigurd alone
Would surely have ruled
If he had lived
But a little longer.
“Ah, nothing seemly
For Sigurd to rule
Giuki’s house
And the folk of the Goths,
When of him five sons
For the slaying of men,
Eager for battle,
Should have been begotten!”
Then laughed Brynhild —
Loud rang the whole house —
One laugh only
From out her heart:
“Long shall your bliss be
Of lands and people,
Whereas the famed lord
You have felled to the earth!”
Then spake Gudrun,
Giuki’s daughter;
“Much thou speakest,
Many things fearful,
All grame be on Gunnar
The bane of Sigurd!
From a heart full of hate
Shall come heavy vengeance.”
Forth sped the even
Enow there was drunken,
Full enow was there
Of all soft speech;
And all men got sleep
When to bed they were gotten;
Gunnar only lay waking
Long after all men.
His feet fell he to moving,
Fell to speak to himself
The waster of men,
Still turned in his mind
What on the bough
Those twain would be saying,
The raven and erne,
As they rode their ways homeward.
But Brynhild awoke,
Budli’s daughter,
May of the shield-folk,
A little ere morning:
“Thrust ye on, hold ye back,
— Now all harm is wrought, —
To tell of my sorrow,
Or to let all slip by me?”
All kept silence
After her speaking,
None might know
That woman’s mind,
Or why she must weep
To tell of the work
That laughing once
Of men she prayed.
BRYNHILD SPAKE:
“In dreams, O Gunnar,
Grim things fell on me;
Dead-cold the hall was,
And my bed was a-cold,
And thou, lord, wert riding
Reft of all bliss,
Laden with fetters
‘Mid the host of thy foemen.”
“So now all ye,
O House of the Niblungs,
Shall be brought to naught,
O ye oath-breakers!
“Think’st thou not, Gunnar,
How that betid,
When ye let the blood run
Both in one footstep?
With ill reward
Hast thou rewarded
His heart so fain
To be the foremost!
“As well was seen
When he rode his ways,
That king of all worth,
Unto my wooing;
How the host-destroyer
Held to the vows
Sworn beforetime,
Sworn to the young king.
“For his wounding-wand
All wrought with gold,
The king beloved
Laid between us;
Without were its edges
Wrought with fire,
But with venom-drops
Deep dyed within.”
Thus this song telleth of the death of Sigurd, and setteth forth how that they slew him without doors; but some say that they slew him within doors, sleeping in his bed. But the Dutch Folk say that they slew him out in the wood: and so sayeth the ancient song of Gudrun, that Sigurd and the sons of Giuki were riding to the Thing whenas he was slain. But all with one accord say that they bewrayed him in their troth with him, and fell on him as he lay unarrayed and unawares.
THE SECOND OR ANCIENT LAY OF GUDRUN.
Thiodrek the King was in Atli’s house, and had lost there the more part of his men: so there Thiodrek and Gudrun bewailed their troubles one to the other, and she spake and said: —
A may of all mays
My mother reared me
Bright in bower;
Well loved I my brethren,
Until that Giuki
With gold arrayed me,
With gold arrayed me,
And gave me to Sigurd.
Such was my Sigurd,
Among the sons of Giuki
As is the green leek
O’er the low grass waxen,
Or a hart high-limbed
Over hurrying deer,
Or glede-red gold
Over grey silver.
Till me they begrudged,
Those my brethren,
The fate to have him,
Who was first of all men;
Nor might they sleep,
Nor sit a-dooming,
Ere they let slay
My well-loved Sigurd.
Grani ran to the Thing,
There was clatter to hear,
But never came Sigurd
Himself thereunto;
All the saddle-girt beasts
With blood were besprinkled,
As faint with the way
Neath the slayers they went.
Then greeting I went
With Grani to talk,
And with tear-furrowed cheeks
I bade him tell all;
But drooping laid Grani,
His head in the grass,
For the steed well wotted
Of his master’s slaying.
A long while I wandered,
Long my mind wavered,
Ere the kings I might ask
Concerning my king.
Then Gunnar hung head,
But Hogni told
Of the cruel slaying
Of my Sigurd:
“On the water’s far side
Lies, smitten to death,
The bane of Guttorm
To the wolves given over.
“Go, look on Sigurd,
On the ways that go southward,
There shalt thou hear
The ernes high screaming,
The ravens a-croaking
As their meat they crave for;
Thou shalt hear the wolves howling
Over thine husband.
“How hast thou, Hogni,
The heart to tell me,
Me of joy made empty,
Of such misery?
Thy wretched heart
May the ravens tear
Wide over the world,
With no men mayst thou wend.”
One thing Hogni
Had for answer,
Fallen from his high heart,
Full of all trouble:
“More greeting yet,
O Gudrun, for thee,
If my heart the ravens
Should rend asunder!”
Thence I turned
From the talk and the trouble
To go a leasing (1)
What the wolves had left me;
No sigh I made
No smote hands together,
Nor did I wail
As other women
When I sat over
My Sigurd slain.
Night methought it,
And the moonless dark,
When I sat in sorrow
Over Sigurd;
Better than all things
I deemed it would be
If they would let me
Cast my life by,
Or burn me up
As they burn the birch-wood.
From the fell I wandered
Five days together,
Until the high hall
Of Half lay before me;
Seven seasons there
I sat with Thora,
The daughter of Hacon,
Up in Denmark.
My heart to gladden
With gold she wrought
Southland halls
And swans of the Dane-folk;
There had we painted
The chiefs a-playing;
Fair our hands wrought
Folk of the kings.
Red shields we did,
