31. No gap indicated in the manuscript, but most editors have assumed that either the first or the last two lines have been lost. Bugge adds a line: “The shield shall not help thee | which thou holdest.”
34. Vandilsve (“Vandil’s Shrine”): who Vandil was we do not know; this and Vigdalir (“Battle-Dale”) are purely mythical places.
35. Line 5 may be spurious. Vigblær (“Battle-Breather”): Helgi’s horse.
37. Line 5 (or possibly line 4) may be spurious. Cf. Guthrunarkvitha I, 17, and Guthrunarkvitha II, 2.
Prose. Valhall, etc.: there is no indication as to where the annotator got this notion of Helgi’s sharing Othin’s rule. It is most unlikely that such an idea ever found place in any of the Helgi poems, or at least in the earlier ones; probably it was a late development of the tradition in a period when Othin was no longer taken seriously.
38. This stanza apparently comes from an otherwise lost passage containing a contest of words between Helgi and Hunding; indeed the name of Hunding may have been substituted for another one beginning with “H,” and the stanza originally have had no connection with Helgi at all. The annotator inserts it here through an obvious misunderstanding, taking it to be Helgi’s application of the power conferred on him by Othin.
39. Here begins the final section (stanzas 39–50), wherein Sigrun visits the dead Helgi in his burial hill. Doom of the gods: the phrase “ragna rök” has been rather unfortunately Anglicized into the word “ragnarok” (the Norse term is not a proper name), and rök, “doom,” has been confused with rökkr, “darkness,” and so translated “dusk of the Gods,” or “Götterdämmerung.”
40. In the manuscript most of this stanza is abbreviated to the first letters of the words.
41. Line 3 (or possibly line 2) may be spurious. Sword-tracks: wounds. One edition places stanza 48 after stanza 41, and another does the same with stanza 50.
43. Possibly lines 5–6 are spurious, or part of a stanza the rest of which has been lost. It has also been suggested that two lines may have been lost after line 2, making a new stanza of lines 3–6. Kinsman: literally “son-in-law.”
44. Lines 4 and 6 have been marked by various editors as probably spurious. Others regard lines 1–2 as the beginning of a stanza the rest of which has been lost, or combine lines 5–6 with lines 5–6 of stanza 45 to make a new stanza. South-maid: cf. Helgakvitha Hundingsbana I, 17 and note.
45. Both lines 3–4 and lines 5–6 have been suspected by editors of being interpolated, and the loss of two lines has also been suggested. Brides: the plural here is perplexing. Gering insists that only Sigrun is meant, and translates the word as singular, but both “brides” and “loves” are uncompromisingly plural in the text. Were the men of Helgi’s ghostly following likewise visited by their wives? The annotator may have thought so, for in the prose he mentions the “women” returning to the house, although, of course, this may refer simply to Sigrun and the maid.
47. Line 5 (or possibly line 4) may be interpolated.
48. Wind-helm: the sky; the bridge is Bifrost, the rainbow (cf. Grimnismol, 29). Salgofnir (“Hall-Crower”): the cock Gollinkambi who awakes the gods and warriors for the last battle.
49. Many editors assign this speech to the maid. Line 5 (or 4) may be spurious. Meeting of dreams (“Dream-Thing”): sleep.
Prose. The attitude of the annotator is clearly revealed by his contempt for those who put any faith in such “old wives’ folly” as the idea that men and women could be reborn. As in the case of Helgi Hjorvarthsson, the theory of the hero’s rebirth seems to have developed in order to unite around a single Helgi the various stories in which the hero is slain. The Lay of Kara (Karuljoth) is lost, although, as has been pointed out, parts of the Helgakvitha Hundingsbana II may be remnants of it, but we find the main outlines of the story in the Hromundar saga Greipssonar, whose compilers appear to have known the Karuljoth. In the saga Helgi Haddingjaskati (Helgi the Haddings’-Hero) is protected by the Valkyrie Kara, who flies over him in the form of a swan (note once more the Valkyrie swan-maiden confusion); but in his fight with Hromund he swings his sword so high that he accidentally gives Kara a mortal wound, whereupon Hromund cuts off his head. As this makes the third recorded death of Helgi (once at the hands of Alf, once at those of Dag, and finally in the fight with Hromund), the phenomenon of his rebirth is not surprising. The points of resemblance in all the Helgi stories, including the one told in the lost Karuljoth, are sufficiently striking so that it is impossible not to see in them a common origin, and not to believe that Helgi the son of Hjorvarth, Helgi the son of Sigmund and Helgi the Haddings’-Hero (not to mention various other Helgis who probably figured in songs and stories now lost) were all originally the same Helgi who appears in the early traditions of Denmark.
FRA DAUTHA SINFJOTLA OF SINFJOTLI’S DEATH INTRODUCTORY NOTE It has been pointed out that the Helgi tradition, coming originally from Denmark, was early associated with that of the Volsungs, which was of German, or rather of Frankish, origin (cf. Introductory Note to Helgakvitha Hjorvarthssonar). The connecting links between these two sets of stories were few in number, the main point being the identification of Helgi as a son of Sigmund Volsungsson. Another son of Sigmund, however, appears in the Helgi poems, though not in any of the poems dealing with the Volsung cycle proper. This is Sinfjotli, whose sole function in the extant Helgi lays is to have a wordy dispute with Gothmund Granmarsson.
Sinfjotli’s history is told in detail in the early chapters of the Volsungasaga. The twin sister of Sigmund Volsungsson, Signy, had married Siggeir, who hated his brother-in-law by reason of his desire to possess a sword which had belonged to Othin and been won by Sigmund. Having treacherously invited Volsung and his ten sons to visit him, Siggeir slew Volsung and captured his sons, who were set in the stocks. Each night a wolf (“some men say that she was Siggeir’s mother”) came out of the woods and ate up one of the brothers, till on the tenth night Sigmund alone was left. Then, however, Signy aided him to escape, and incidentally to kill the wolf. He vowed vengeance on Siggeir, and Signy, who hated her husband, was determined to help him. Convinced that Sigmund must have a helper of his own race, Signy changed forms with a witch, and in this guise sought out Sigmund, who, not knowing who she was, spent three nights with her. Thereafter she gave birth to a boy, whom she named Sinfjotli (“The Yellow-Spotted”?), whom she sent to Sigmund. For a time they lived in the woods, occasionally turning into wolves (whence perhaps Sinfjotli’s name). When Sinfjotli was full grown, he and his father came to Siggeir’s house, but were seen and betrayed by the two young sons of Signy and Siggeir, whereupon Sinfjotli slew them. Siggeir promptly had Sigmund and Sinfjotli buried alive, but Signy managed to smuggle Sigmund’s famous sword into the grave, and with this the father and son dug themselves out. The next night they burned Siggeir’s house, their enemy dying in the flames, and Signy, who had at the last refused to leave her husband, from a sense of somewhat belated loyalty, perishing with him.
Was this story, which the Volsungasaga relates in considerable detail, the basis of an old poem which has been lost? Almost certainly it was, although, as I have pointed out, many if not most of the old stories appear to have been handed down rather in prose than in verse, for the Volsungasaga quotes two lines of verse regarding the escape from the grave. At any rate, Sinfjotli early became a part of the Volsung tradition, which, in turn, formed the basis for no less than fifteen poems generally included in the Eddic collection. Of this tradition we may recognize three distinct parts: the Volsung-Sigmund-Sinfjotli story; the Helgi story, and the Sigurth story, the last of these three being by far the most extensive, and suggesting an almost limitless amount of further subdivision. With the Volsung-Sigmund-Sinfjotli story the Sigurth legend is connected only by the fact that Sigurth appears as Sigmund’s son by his last wife, Hjordis; with the Helgi legend it is not connected directly at all. Aside from the fact that Helgi appears as Sigmund’s son by his first wife, Borghild, the only link between the Volsung story proper and that of Helgi is the appearance of Sinfjotli in two of the Helgi poems. Originally it is altogether probable that the three stories, or sets of stories, were entirely distinct, and that Sigurth (the familiar Siegfried) had little or nothing more to do with the Volsungs of northern mythological-heroic tradition than he had with Helgi.
The annotator or compiler of the collection of poems preserved in the Codex Regius, having finished with the Helgi lays, had before him the task of setting down the fifteen complete or fragmentary poems dealing with the Sigurth story. Before doing this, however, he felt it incumbent on him to dispose of both Sigmund and Sinfjotli, the sole links with the two other sets of stories. He apparently knew of no poem or poems concerning the deaths of these two; perhaps there were none, though this is unlikely. Certainly the story of how Sinfjotli and Sigmund died was current in oral prose tradition, and this story the compiler set forth in the short prose passage entitled Of Sinfjotli’s Death which, in Regius, immediately follows the second lay of Helgi Hundingsbane. The relation of this passage to the prose of the Reginsmol is discussed in the introductory note to that poem.
Sigmund, the son of Volsung, was a king in the land of the Franks; Sinfjotli was his eldest son, the second was Helgi, and the third Hamund. Borghild, Sigmund’s wife, had a brother who was named ——. Sinfjotli, her stepson, and —— both wooed the same woman, wherefore Sinfjotli slew him. And when he came home, Borghild bade him depart, but Sigmund offered her atonement-money, and this she had to accept. At the funeral feast Borghild brought in ale; she took poison, a great horn full, and brought it to Sinfjotli. But when he looked into the horn, he saw that it was poison, and said to Sigmund: “Muddy is the drink, Father!” Sigmund took the horn and drank therefrom. It is said that Sigmund was so hardy that poison might not harm him, either outside or in, but all his sons could withstand poison only without on their skin. Borghild bore another horn to Sinfjotli and bade him drink, and all happened as before. And yet a third time she brought him a horn, and spoke therewith scornful words of him if he should not drink from it. He spoke as before with Sigmund. The latter said: “Let it trickle through your beard, Son!” Sinfjotli drank, and straightway was dead. Sigmund bore him a long way in his arms, and came to a narrow and long fjord, and there was a little boat and a man in it. He offered to take Sigmund across the fjord. But when Sigmund had borne the corpse out into the boat, then the craft was full. The man told Sigmund to go round the inner end of the fjord. Then the man pushed the boat off, and disappeared.
King Sigmund dwelt long in Denmark in Borghild’s kingdom after he had married her. Thereafter Sigmund went south into the land of the Franks, to the kingdom which he had there. There he married Hjordis, the daughter of King Eylimi; their son was Sigurth. King Sigmund fell in a battle with the sons of Hunding, and Hjordis then married Alf the son of King Hjalprek. There Sigurth grew up in his boyhood. Sigmund and all his sons were far above all other men in might and stature and courage and every kind of ability. Sigurth, however, was the foremost of all, and all men call him in the old tales the noblest of mankind and the mightiest leader.
NOTE Prose. Regarding Sigmund, Sinfjotli, and Volsung see Introductory Note. The Franks: although the Sigurth story had reached the North as early as the sixth or seventh century, it never lost all the marks of its Frankish origin. Helgi and Hamund: sons of Sigmund and Borghild; Helgi is, of course Helgi Hundingsbane; of Hamund nothing further is recorded. Borghild: the manuscript leaves a blank for the name of her brother; evidently the compiler hoped some day to discover it and write it in, but never did. A few editions insert wholly unauthorized names from late paper manuscripts, such as Hroar, Gunnar, or Borgar. In the Volsungasaga Borghild bids Sinfjotli drink “if he has the courage of a Volsung.” Sigmund gives his advice because “the king was very drunk, and that was why he spoke thus.” Gering, on the other hand, gives Sigmund credit for having believed that the draught would deposit its poisonous contents in Sinfjotli’s beard, and thus do him no harm. Boat: the man who thus carries off the dead Sinfjotli in his boat is presumably Othin. Denmark: Borghild belongs to the Danish Helgi part of the story. The Franks: with this the Danish and Norse stories of Helgi and Sinfjotli come to an end, and the Frankish story of Sigurth begins. Sigmund’s two kingdoms are an echo of the blended traditions. Hjordis: just where this name came from is not clear, for in the German story Siegfried’s mother is Sigelint, but the name of the father of Hjordis, Eylimi, gives a clew, for Eylimi is the father of Svava, wife of Helgi Hjorvarthsson. Doubtless the two men are not identical, but it seems likely that both Eylimi and Hjordis were introduced into the Sigmund-Sigurth story, the latter replacing Sigelint, from some version of the Helgi tradition. Hunding: in the Helgi lays the sons of Hunding are all killed, but they reappear here and in two of the poems (Gripisspo, 9, and Reginsmol, 15), and the Volsungasaga names Lyngvi as the son of Hunding who, as the rejected lover of Hjordis, kills Sigmund and his father-in-law, Eylimi, as well. The episode of Hunding and his sons belongs entirely to the Danish (Helgi) part of the story; the German legend knows nothing of it, and permits the elderly Sigmund to outlive his son. There was doubtless a poem on this battle, for the Volsungasaga quotes two lines spoken by the dying Sigmund to Hjordis before he tells her to give the pieces of his broken sword to their unborn son. Alf: after the battle, according to the Volsungasaga, Lyngvi Hundingsson tried to capture Hjordis, but she was rescued by the sea-rover Alf, son of King Hjalprek of Denmark, who subsequently married her. Here is another trace of the Danish Helgi tradition. The Nornageststhattr briefly tells the same story.
GRIPISSPO GRIPIR’S PROPHECY INTRODUCTORY NOTE The Gripisspo immediately follows the prose Fra Dautha Sinfjotla in the Codex Regius, and is contained in no other early manuscript. It is unquestionably one of the latest of the poems in the Eddic collection; most critics agree in calling it the latest of all, dating it not much before the year 1200. Its author (for in this instance the word may be correctly used) was not only familiar with the other poems of the Sigurth cycle, but seems to have had actual written copies of them before him; it has, indeed, been suggested, and not without plausibility, that the Gripisspo may have been written by the very man who compiled and annotated the collection of poems preserved in the Codex Regius.
In form the poem is a dialogue between the youthful Sigurth and his uncle, Gripir, but in substance it is a condensed outline of Sigurth’s whole career as told piecemeal in the older poems. The writer was sufficiently skillful in the handling of verse, but he was utterly without inspiration; his characters are devoid of vitality, and their speeches are full of conventional phrases, with little force or incisiveness. At the same time, the poem is of considerable interest as giving, in brief form, a summary of the story of Sigurth as it existed in Iceland (for the Gripisspo is almost certainly Icelandic) in the latter half of the twelfth century.
It is not desirable here to go in detail into the immensely complex question of the origin, growth, and spread of the story of Sigurth (Siegfried). The volume of critical literature on the subject is enormous, and although some of the more patently absurd theories have been eliminated, there are still wide divergencies of opinion regarding many important points. At the same time, a brief review of the chief facts is necessary in order to promote a clearer understanding of the poems which follow, and which make up more than a third of the Eddic collection.
That the story of Sigurth reached the North from Germany, having previously developed among the Franks of the Rhine country, is now universally recognized. How and when it spread from northwestern Germany into Scandinavia are less certainly known. It spread, indeed, in every direction, so that traces of it are found wherever Frankish influence was extensively felt; but it was clearly better known and more popular in Norway, and in the settlements established by Norwegians, than anywhere else. We have historical proof that there was considerable contact, commercial and otherwise, between the Franks of northwestern Germany and the Norwegians (but not the Swedes or the Danes) throughout the period from 600 to 800; coins of Charlemagne have been found in Norway, and there is other evidence showing a fairly extensive interchange of ideas as well as of goods. Presumably, then, the story of the Frankish hero found its way into Norway in the seventh century. While, at this stage of its development, it may conceivably have included a certain amount of verse, it is altogether probable that the story as it came into Norway in the seventh century was told largely in prose, and that, even after the poets had got hold of it, the legend continued to live among the people in the form of oral prose saga.
The complete lack of contemporary material makes it impossible for us to speak with certainty regarding the character and content of the Sigurth legend as it existed in the Rhine country in the seventh century. It is, however, important to remember the often overlooked fact that any popular traditional hero became a magnet for originally unrelated stories of every kind. It must also be remembered that in the early Middle Ages there existed no such distinction between fiction and history as we now make; a saga, for instance, might be anything from the most meticulously accurate history to the wildest of fairy tales, and a single saga might (and sometimes did) combine both elements. This was equally true of the Frankish traditions, and the two principles just stated account for most of the puzzling phenomena in the growth of the Sigurth story.
Of the origin of Sigurth himself we know absolutely nothing. No historical analogy can be made to fit in the slightest degree. If one believes in the possibility of resolving hero stories into nature myths, he may be explained in that fashion, but such a solution is not necessary. The fact remains that from very early days Sigurth (Sifrit) was a great traditional hero among the Franks. The tales of his strength and valor, of his winning of a great treasure, of his wooing a more or less supernatural bride, and of his death at the hands of his kinsmen, probably were early features of this legend.
The next step was the blending of this story with one which had a clear basis in history. In the year 437 the Burgundians, under their king, Gundicarius (so the Latin histories call him), were practically annihilated by the Huns. The story of this great battle soon became one of the foremost of Rhineland traditions; and though Attila was presumably not present in person, he was quite naturally introduced as the famous ruler of the invading hordes. The dramatic story of Attila’s death in the year 453 was likewise added to the tradition, and during the sixth century the chain was completed by linking together the stories of Sigurth and those of the Burgundian slaughter. Gundicarius becomes the Gunther of the Nibelungenlied and the Gunnar of the Eddic poems; Attila becomes Etzel and Atli. A still further development came through the addition of another, and totally unrelated, set of historical traditions based on the career of Ermanarich, king of the Goths, who died about the year 376. Ermanarich figures largely in many stories unconnected with the Sigurth cycle, but, with the zeal of the medieval story-tellers for connecting their heroes, he was introduced as the husband of Sigurth’s daughter, Svanhild, herself originally part of a separate narrative group, and as Jormunrek he plays a considerable part in a few of the Eddic poems.
Such, briefly, appears to have been the development of the legend before it came into Norway. Here it underwent many changes, though the clear marks of its southern origin were never obliterated. The names were given Scandinavian forms, and in some cases were completely changed (e.g., Kriemhild becomes Guthrun). New figures, mostly of secondary importance, were introduced, and a large amount of purely Northern local color was added. Above all, the earlier part of the story was linked with Northern mythology in a way which seems to have had no counterpart among the southern Germanic peoples. The Volsungs become direct descendants of Othin; the gods are closely concerned with Fafnir’s treasure, and so on. Above all, the Norse story-tellers and poets changed the figure of Brynhild. In making her a Valkyrie, sleeping on the flame-girt rock, they were never completely successful, as she persisted in remaining, to a considerable extent, the entirely human daughter of Buthli whom Sigurth woos for Gunnar. This confusion, intensified by a mixing of names (cf. Sigrdrifumol, introductory note), and much resembling that which existed in the parallel cases of Svava and Sigrun in the Helgi tradition, created difficulties which the Norse poets and story-tellers were never able to smooth out, and which have perplexed commentators ever since.
Those who read the Sigurth poems in the Edda, or the story told in the Volsungasaga, expecting to find a critically accurate biography of the hero, will, of course, be disappointed. If, however, they will constantly keep in mind the general manner in which the legend grew, its accretions ranging all the way from the Danube to Iceland, they will find that most of the difficulties are simply the natural results of conflicting traditions. Just as the Danish Helgi had to be “reborn” twice in order to enable three different men to kill him, so the story of Sigurth, as told in the Eddic poems, involves here and there inconsistencies explicable only when the historical development of the story is taken into consideration.
Gripir was the name of Eylimi’s son, the brother of Hjordis; he ruled over lands and was of all men the wisest and most forward-seeing. Sigurth once was riding alone and came to Gripir’s hall. Sigurth was easy to recognize; he found out in front of the hall a man whose name was Geitir. Then Sigurth questioned him and asked: 1. “Who is it has | this dwelling here, Or what do men call | the people’s king?”
Geitir spake: “Gripir the name | of the chieftain good Who holds the folk | and the firm-ruled land.”
Sigurth spake: 2. “Is the king all-knowing | now within, Will the monarch come | with me to speak? A man unknown | his counsel needs, And Gripir fain | I soon would find.”
Geitir spake: 3. “The ruler glad | of Geitir will ask Who seeks with Gripir | speech to have.”
Sigurth spake: “Sigurth am I, | and Sigmund’s son, And Hjordis the name | of the hero’s mother.”
4. Then Geitir went | and to Gripir spake: “A stranger comes | and stands without; Lofty he is | to look upon, And, prince, thyself | he fain would see.”
5. From the hall the ruler | of heroes went, And greeted well | the warrior come: “Sigurth, welcome | long since had been thine; Now, Geitir, shalt thou | Grani take.”
6. Then of many | things they talked, When thus the men | so wise had met.
Sigurth spake: “To me, if thou knowest, | my mother’s brother, Say what life | will Sigurth’s be.”
Gripir spake: 7. “Of men thou shalt be | on earth the mightiest, And higher famed | than all the heroes; Free of gold-giving, | slow to flee, Noble to see, | and sage in speech.”
Sigurth spake: 8. “Monarch wise, | now more I ask; To Sigurth say, | if thou thinkest to see, What first will chance | of my fortune fair, When hence I go | from out thy home?”
Gripir spake: 9. “First shalt thou, prince, | thy father avenge, And Eylimi, | their ills requiting; The hardy sons | of Hunding thou Soon shalt fell, | and victory find.”
Sigurth spake: 10. “Noble king, | my kinsman, say Thy meaning true, | for our minds we speak: For Sigurth mighty | deeds dost see, The highest beneath | the heavens all?”
Gripir spake: 11. “The fiery dragon | alone thou shalt fight That greedy lies | at Gnitaheith; Thou shalt be of Regin | and Fafnir both The slayer; truth | doth Gripir tell thee.”
Sigurth spake: 12. “Rich shall I be | if battles I win With such as these, | as now thou sayest; Forward look, | and further tell: What the life | that I shall lead?”
Gripir spake: 13. “Fafnir’s den | thou then shalt find, And all his treasure | fair shalt take; Gold shalt heap | on Grani’s back, And, proved in fight, | to Gjuki fare.”
Sigurth spake: 14. “To the warrior now | in words so wise, Monarch noble, | more shalt tell; I am Gjuki’s guest, | and thence I go: What the life | that I shall lead?”
Gripir spake: 15. “On the rocks there sleeps | the ruler’s daughter, Fair in armor, | since Helgi fell; Thou shalt cut | with keen-edged sword, And cleave the byrnie | with Fafnir’s killer.”
Sigurth spake: 16. “The mail-coat is broken, | the maiden speaks, The woman who | from sleep has wakened; What says the maid | to Sigurth then That happy fate | to the hero brings?”
Gripir spake: 17. “Runes to the warrior | will she tell, All that men | may ever seek, And teach thee to speak | in all men’s tongues, And life with health; | thou’rt happy, king!”
Sigurth spake: 18. “Now is it ended, | the knowledge is won, And ready I am | forth thence to ride; Forward look | and further tell: What the life | that I shall lead?”
Gripir spake: 19. “Then to Heimir’s | home thou comest, And glad shalt be | the guest of the king; Ended, Sigurth, | is all I see, No further aught | of Gripir ask.”
Sigurth spake: 20. “Sorrow brings me | the word thou sayest, For, monarch, forward | further thou seest; Sad the grief | for Sigurth thou knowest, Yet nought to me, Gripir, | known wilt make.”
Gripir spake: 21. “Before me lay | in clearest light All of thy youth | for mine eyes to see; Not rightly can I | wise be called, Nor forward-seeing; | my wisdom is fled.”
Sigurth spake: 22. “No man, Gripir, | on earth I know Who sees the future | as far as thou; Hide thou nought, | though hard it be, And base the deeds | that I shall do.”
Gripir spake: 23. “With baseness never | thy life is burdened, Hero noble, | hold that sure; Lofty as long | as the world shall live, Battle-bringer, | thy name shall be.”
Sigurth spake: 24. “Nought could seem worse, | but now must part The prince and Sigurth, | since so it is; My road I ask,— | the future lies open,— Mighty one, speak, | my mother’s brother.”
Gripir spake: 25. “Now to Sigurth | all shall I say, For to this the warrior | bends my will; Thou knowest well | that I will not lie,— A day there is | when thy death is doomed.”
Sigurth spake: 26. “No scorn I know | for the noble king, But counsel good | from Gripir I seek; Well will I know, | though evil awaits, What Sigurth may | before him see.”
Gripir spake: 27. “A maid in Heimir’s | home there dwells, Brynhild her name | to men is known, Daughter of Buthli, | the doughty king, And Heimir fosters | the fearless maid.”
Sigurth spake: 28. “What is it to me, | though the maiden be So fair, and of Heimir | the fosterling is? Gripir, truth | to me shalt tell, For all of fate | before me thou seest.”
Gripir spake: 29. “Of many a joy | the maiden robs thee, Fair to see, | whom Heimir fosters; Sleep thou shalt find not, | feuds thou shalt end not, Nor seek out men, | if the maid thou seest not.”
Sigurth spake: 30. “What may be had | for Sigurth’s healing? Say now, Gripir, | if see thou canst; May I buy the maid | with the marriage-price, The daughter fair | of the chieftain famed?”
Gripir spake: 31. “Ye twain shall all | the oaths then swear That bind full fast; | few shall ye keep; One night when Gjuki’s | guest thou hast been, Will Heimir’s fosterling | fade from thy mind.”
Sigurth spake: 32. “What sayst thou, Gripir? | give me the truth, Does fickleness hide | in the hero’s heart? Can it be that troth | I break with the maid, With her I believed | I loved so dear?”
Gripir spake: 33. “Tricked by another, | prince, thou art, And the price of Grimhild’s | wiles thou must pay; Fain of thee | for the fair-haired maid, Her daughter, she is, | and she drags thee down.”
Sigurth spake: 34. “Might I with Gunnar | kinship make, And Guthrun win | to be my wife, Well the hero | wedded would be, If my treacherous deed | would trouble me not.”
Gripir spake: 35. “Wholly Grimhild | thy heart deceives, She will bid thee go | and Brynhild woo For Gunnar’s wife, | the lord of the Goths; And the prince’s mother | thy promise shall win.”
Sigurth spake: 36. “Evil waits me, | well I see it, And gone is Sigurth’s | wisdom good, If I shall woo | for another to win The maiden fair | that so fondly I loved.”
Gripir spake: 37. “Ye three shall all | the oaths then take, Gunnar and Hogni, | and, hero, thou; Your forms ye shall change, | as forth ye fare, Gunnar and thou; | for Gripir lies not.”
Sigurth spake: 38. “How meanest thou? | Why make we the change Of shape and form | as forth we fare? There must follow | another falsehood Grim in all ways; | speak on, Gripir!”
Gripir spake: 39. “The form of Gunnar | and shape thou gettest, But mind and voice | thine own remain; The hand of the fosterling | noble of Heimir Now dost thou win, | and none can prevent.”
Sigurth spake: 40. “Most evil it seems, | and men will say Base is Sigurth | that so he did; Not of my will | shall I cheat with wiles The heroes’ maiden | whom noblest I hold.”
Gripir spake: 41. “Thou dwellest, leader | lofty of men, With the maid as if | thy mother she were; Lofty as long | as the world shall live, Ruler of men, | thy name shall remain.”
Sigurth spake: 42. “Shall Gunnar have | a goodly wife, Famed among men,— | speak forth now, Gripir! Although at my side | three nights she slept, The warrior’s bride? | Such ne’er has been.”
Gripir spake: