man laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. Then the king sprung up from the table and thrust himself between them, and withheld his men from anger and battle, threatening that he would punish the first man who began the fight, saying that for a man to slay his guest in his own house was a deed unpleasing to God. And in this way he at last settled the quarrel, and they went on with the feast again with gladsome hearts. And Thuriswend took the weapons of his son Thurismund and gave them to Elfwine, and sent him back in peace and safety to his father’s kingdom. And when Elfwine came back to his father, he was made his Guest from that day forth. And while he was joyfully eating the royal dainties with his father, he told in order all things which had befallen him among the Gefids in Thuriswend's hall. And they that were at meat marvelled and praised the boldness of Elfwine, nor did they bestow less honour upon the great good faith of Thuriswend[1].
The second one runs thus:—
Paul the Deacon's Paraphrase of the Song of the Murder of Elfwine, King of the Lombards.
Now this was the reason of his being slain. One day when he had been sitting longer than was meet at a banquet of wine at Verona, and was merry, he bade give the queen wine to drink in the cup which he had made out of the skull of King Cynemund, his father-in-law, and called upon her to drink merrily with her father.—Which thing, lest it should seem to any one impossible, I [Paul] protest I speak the truth in Christ, yea, I have seen Radgisl the prince holding the very cup in his hand on a certain feast-day, showing it to them that sat at table with him.— Now when Rosamund took heed of this thing, she conceived a deep grief at the heart which she could not lull. Wherefore her anger was swiftly kindled to the end that she might avenge the death of her father by the slaughter of her husband, and she made no tarrying, but took counsel with Helmgisl, who was the king’s shieldbearer and foster-brother, how she might put the king to death. But he persuaded the queen that she herself should win over to their plot Beartheow, who was a very mighty man. And, when Beartheow would not consent to such a shameful deed at the queen’s persuasion, she stole in by night and lay down in the bed of her rail-maiden with whom Beartheow was wont to lie. And Beartheow came thither unwitting and lay with the queen. And when the deed of shame was done she asked him whom he thought she was, and he answered naming his leman, for he thought it had been she. Then answered the queen, “It is not as thou thinkest; but I am Rosamund!” said she, “and thou now hast done such a deed, Beartheow, that either thou shalt put Elfwine to death therefore or he slay thee with his sword.” Then he understood the evil that he had wrought and saw that he had become bound in this way to slay the king, which thing he would not willingly have done. Then Rosamund ordered that deep silence should be kept in the king’s house, while Elfwine had fallen into his midday sleep, and she took away secretly all the other arms; but the king’s sword she bound strongly to the head of the bed, that it might not be taken down or unsheathed. Then according to their plan Helmgisl, crueller than any wild beast, brought Beartheow the
murderer privily into the room. Elfwine being suddenly roused from his slumber,- ↑ For a fuller discussion of this story, which is evidently only half told by the good Paul, see Excursus III [ii. p. 503].
