Part 7 (1/2)
All at once with horrid crash the rotten pillars gave way, and a great image standing on the doorposts fell upon him, and crushed him to earth. Thus he died.
”Now Halfdan sits alone upon the throne of his father. To him offer thy hand. The G.o.d Balder demands this offering. If thou refuse, in vain has this temple been built, and vain are thy prayers for forgiveness.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: INGEBORG GIVEN TO FRITHIOF]
As the n.o.ble priest thus advised, King Halfdan entered the temple, but stood apart in silence. Frithiof at once loosed his breast-plate and placed the bright s.h.i.+eld against the altar. To Halfdan he offered his hand, saying, ”In such a strife the n.o.blest first offers his hand for peace.” King Halfdan met his friend half-way, and their hands, long separated, met in a strong clasp.
Then the priest in solemn voice proclaimed Frithiof forgiven for his crime against Balder, the loving G.o.d, and purified from his guilt.
Scarce had the words been spoken when Ingeborg entered, attired in bridal robes and mantle of ermine. She walked among her maids as the moon glides in the heavenly azure attended by the radiant stars. With tears in her lovely eyes she turned to her brother; but Halfdan clasped her hand in Frithiof's, and thus gave his sister, the fair Ingeborg, to the friend of their childhood, her best beloved, the n.o.ble Frithiof.
THE STORY OF BEOWULF
The Coming of Sheaf
Once upon a time, many, many years ago, a boat came sailing over the sea to Denmark. In it were s.h.i.+elds and rings of gold, banners of bright colours, bracelets, drinking-cups, and helmets. With sails gaily spread the breezes bore the boat gently over the deep blue sea.
No sailor was seen at the oars.
”What can it be?” cried the people as they came to the sh.o.r.e, wondering; ”is it a s.h.i.+p of earth, or have the G.o.ds sent it?” They asked one another many questions, but knew not what to think.
Nearer and nearer came the beautiful boat; bright shone the coloured sails and golden armour. Many were the treasures borne therein, but loveliest and most precious was--a little baby boy! He smiled at the man who found him, and lifted up his tiny hands as if asking to be taken.
”A prince!” cried the people; ”we have found our prince! The G.o.ds have sent us a king to rule over us and to conquer our enemies.” For at that time the Danes had no king, and were glad to see the beautiful child who so strangely came to their sh.o.r.es.
The s.h.i.+p with all its treasures was carefully guarded, and the boy, who was called Sheaf, was brought up as a prince. In due time he became king and fought many battles and won many victories over the robbers on land and sea. Over many n.o.ble thanes did Sheaf, the king, rule; all obeyed him and paid tribute to him.
Nor did G.o.d withhold from him a son to comfort the people. The boy was strong and handsome and gave great joy to the heart of his father.
Over many lands shone the glory of the young prince. So shall a young hero act that when he is old all his friends shall praise him. He shall fight for his people and by praiseworthy deeds shall he flourish.
Now when the time came for Sheaf to die, he asked his companions to bear him to the sh.o.r.e. There stood the brave s.h.i.+p with gleaming prow and widespread sails, eager to go. Sad and yet glad at heart were the heroes who bore the king to the death-boat--glad to honour a brave king, and sad that he must leave them.
On the king's bosom they placed treasures of gold and silver; rings, s.h.i.+ning stones, cloth of gold, s.h.i.+elds, and drinking-cups. Indeed, he took away treasures as many as he brought with him when, years before, he had come, a tiny child, to the country of the Danes. Out into the mist sailed the proud s.h.i.+p with its precious load never to return. No man saw it again, and whither it went none can tell.
The Young Beowulf
The sons and grandsons of the great Sheaf ruled the country of the Danes until the time of Hrothgar. Hrothgar was king of the Danes when Beowulf, the hero of our story, was a prince in the country of the Goths.
The young Beowulf grew up in the court of his uncle, Hygelac, king of the Goths. Fond of all games and manly sports was he, and he learned to throw the heavy hammer, to shoot, to row, to swim, and to ride.
Running, wrestling, and hunting were daily exercises of the young men, and Beowulf could excel them all in every trial of skill. Soon the men at court called Beowulf their leader, and they loved and honoured him.
Although Beowulf had won many victories at home, and his people knew him to be brave and strong, yet he longed to do some great deed which should make his name known over other lands. The time came when he had his wish and when all his strength and courage were tested. For a harper from the land of the Danes came to the court of Hygelac and told a sad story.
The Harper's Story