Part 26 (1/2)

There drank Atli, The awful Hun king, Wine in his fair hall; Without were the warders, Gunnar's folk to have heed of, Lest they had fared thither With the whistling spear War to wake 'gainst the king.

But first came their sister As they came to the hall, Both her brethren she met, With beer little gladdened: ”Bewrayed art thou, Gunnar!

What dost thou great king To deal war to the Huns?

Go thou swift from the hall!

Better, brother, hadst thou Fared here in thy byrny Than with helm gaily dight Looked on Atli's great house: Them hadst sat then in saddle Through days bright with the sun Fight to awaken And fair fields to redden:

”O'er the folk fate makes pale Should the Norn's tears have fallen, The s.h.i.+eld mays of the Huns Should have known of all sorrow; And King Atli himself To worm-close should be brought; But now is the worm-close Kept but for thee.”

Then spake Gunnar Great 'mid the people: ”Over-late sister The Niblungs to summon; A long way to seek The helping of warriors, The high lord unshamed, From the hills of the Rhine!”

Seven Hogni beat down With his sword sharp-grinded, And the eighth man he thrust Amidst of the fire.

Ever so shall famed warrior Fight with his foemen, As Hogni fought For the hand of Gunnar.

But on Gunnar they fell, And set him in fetters, And bound hard and fast That friend of Burgundians; Then the warrior they asked If he would buy life, But life with gold That king of the Goths.

n.o.bly spake Gunnar, Great lord of the Niblungs; ”Hogni's bleeding heart first Shall lie in mine hand, Cut from the breast Of the bold-riding lord, With bitter-sharp knife From the son of the king.”

With guile the great one Would they beguile, On the wailing thrall Laid they hand unwares, And cut the heart From out of Hjalli, Laid it bleeding on trencher And bare it to Gunnar.

”Here have I the heart Of Hjalli the trembler, Little like the heart Of Hogni the hardy: As much as it trembleth Laid on the trencher By the half more it trembled In the breast of him hidden.”

Then laughed Hogni When they cut the heart from him, From the crest-smith yet quick, Little thought he to quail.

The hard acorn of thought From the high king they took, Laid it bleeding on trencher And bare it Gunnar.

”Here have I the heart Of Hogni the hardy, Little like to the heart Of Hjalli the trembler.

Howso little it quaketh Laid here on the dish, Yet far less it quaked In the breast of him laid.

”So far mayst thou bide From men's eyen, O Atli, As from that treasure Thou shalt abide!

”Behold in my heart Is hidden for ever That h.o.a.rd of the Niblungs, Now Hogni is dead.

Doubt threw me two ways While the twain of us lived, But all that is gone Now I live on alone.

”The great Rhine shall rule O'er the hate-raising treasure, That gold of the Niblungs, The seed of the G.o.ds: In the weltering water Shall that wealth lie a-gleaming, Or it s.h.i.+ne on the hands Of the children of Huns!”

Then cried Atli, King of the Hun-folk, ”Drive forth your wains now The slave is fast bounden.”

And straightly thence The bit-shaking steeds Drew the h.o.a.rd-warden, The war-G.o.d to his death.

Atli the great king, Rode upon Glaum, With s.h.i.+elds set round about, And sharp thorns of battle: Gudrun, bound by wedlock To these, victory made G.o.ds of, Held back her tears As the hall she ran into.

”Let it fare with thee, Atli, E'en after thine oaths sworn To Gunnar fell often; Yea, oaths sworn of old time, By the sun sloping southward, By the high burg of Sigry, By the fair bed of rest, By the red ring of Ull!”

Now a host of men Cast the high king alive Into a close Crept o'er within With most foul worms, Fulfilled of all venom, Ready grave to dig In his doughty heart.

Wrathful-hearted he smote The harp with his hand, Gunnar laid there alone; And loud rang the strings.-- In such wise ever Should hardy ring-scatterer Keep gold from all folk In the garth of his foeman.

Then Atli would wend About his wide land, On his steed brazen shod, Back from the murder.