Völsunga Saga/Fragments of the Lay of Brynhild
FRAGMENTS OF THE LAY OF BRYNHILD.
Hogni said.
What hath wrought SigurdOf any wrong-doingThat the life of the famed oneThou art fain of taking?
Gunnar said.
To me has SigurdSworn many oaths,Sworn many oaths,And sworn them lying,And he bewrayed meWhen it behoved himOf all folk to his trothTo be the most trusty.
Hogni said.
Thee hath BrynhildUnto all bale,And all hate whetted,And a work of sorrow;For she grudges to GudrunAll goodly life;And to thee the blissOf her very body.•••••
Some the wolf roasted,Some minced the worm,Some unto GuttormGave the wolf-meat,Or ever they mightIn their lust for murderOn the high kingLay deadly hand.
Sigurd lay slainOn the south of the Rhine.High from the fair treeCroaked forth the raven,“Ah, yet shall AtliOn you redden edges,The old oaths shall weighOn your souls, O warriors.”
Without stood Gudrun,Giuki’s daughter,And the first word she saidWas even this word:“Where then is Sigurd,Lord of the Warfolk,Since my kinCome riding the foremost?”
One word HogniHad for an answer:“Our swords have smittenSigurd asunder,And the grey horse hangs droopingO’er his lord lying dead.”
Then quoth Brynhild,Budli’s daughter;“Good weal shall ye haveOf weapons and lands,That Sigurd aloneWould surely have ruledIf he had livedBut a little longer.
“Ah, nothing seemlyFor Sigurd to ruleGiuki’s houseAnd the folk of the Goths,When of him five sonsFor the slaying of men, Eager for battleShould have been begotten!”
Then laughed Brynhild—Loud rang the whole house—One laugh onlyFrom out her heart:“Long shall your bliss beOf lands and people,Whereas the famed lordYou have felled to the earth!”
Then spake Gudrun,Giuki’s daughter;“Much thou speakest,Many things fearful,All grame be on GunnarThe bane of Sigurd!From a heart full of hateShall come heavy vengeance.”
Forth sped the evenEnow there was drunken,Full enow was thereOf all soft speech;And all men got sleepWhen to bed they were gotten;Gunnar only lay wakingLong after all men.
His feet fell he to moving,Fell to speak to himselfThe waster of men,Still turned in his mindWhat on the boughThose 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 silenceAfter her speaking,None might knowThat woman’s mind,Or why she must weepTo tell of the workThat laughing onceOf 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 ridingReft 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 runBoth in one footstep?With ill rewardHast thou rewardedHis heart so fainTo be the foremost!
As well was seenWhen he rode his ways,That king of all worth,Unto my wooing;How the host-destroyerHeld to the vowsSworn beforetime,Sworn to the young king.
For his wounding-wandAll wrought with gold,The king belovedLaid between us; Without were its edgesWrought with fire,But with venom-dropsDeep 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.