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Viking Tales of the North

Fridthjof's Saga

Canto XVII.

Page 2

XIII.

The astonish’d queen’s pale cheeks how fast-changing rose-tints dye!
So purple northlights, quiv’ring, on snow-hid meadows lie.
Like two white water-lilies on storm-wave wild that rest,
Each moment rising, falling, — so heaves her trembling breast!

XIV.

Then loud blew signal-trumpets; death-still became all there;
For now as the hour of promise, and Frey’s boar in they bear.
His grim mouth holds an apple, his shoulders garlands grac’d.
And down on silver charger four bended knees he plac’d.

XV.

And quick king Ring he riseth, with gray locks thinkly crown’d,
Then, first the boar’s brow touching, his vow thus speaks around:
“I swear to conquer Fridthjof, stout champion though he be,
So help me Frey and Odin, and Thor more strong than he!”

XVI.

With mocking laugh, undaunted, the stranger-chief uprose,
While, flash-like, hero-rage o’er his scornful face quick goes;
The sword upon the table he dash’d with fearful clang,
And up form the oaken benches each warrior sudden sprang.

XVII.

“And here thou, good sir monarch, for I’ll too make my vow, —
Young Fridthjof is my kinsman, I’ve known him up till now.
I swear to shelter Fridthjof, though all the world withstood.
So help my fav’ring norn me, and this my falchion good!”

XVIII.

With smiles the king him answer’d: “full bold thy accents fall,
Yet words were never fetter’d in northern kingly hall.
Queen, fill for him that horn there with wine thou prizest best;
Till spring returns, the stranger, I hope, will be our guest.”

XIX.

The horn which stood before her the queen then rais’d with care, —
From the urns’ forehead broke, — ‘twas a jewel rich and rare;
Its feet were shining silver, with many a ring of gold,
While wondrous runes adorn’d it, and curious shape of old.

XX.

The goblet to the hero she readch’d, with downcast eyne,
But much her hand it trembled and spill’d the sparkling wine;
As ev’ning’s purple blushes on snowy lilies stand,
So burn’d those drops all darkly on Ing’borg’s fair, white hand.

XXI.

Straight from the noble ladye glad took the guest that horn,
Not two men could have drain’d it, as men are now y-born;
But easily, and willing the gentle queen to please,
The mighty stranger drain it in but one draught she sees.

XXII.

The skald , too his harp awak’ning, as by Ring’s board he sate,
A heart-sprung legend chanted of northern lover’s fate;
Of Hagbart and fair Signe he sang with voice so deep,
That steel clad bosoms melted — each stern eye long’d to weep.

XXIII.

Then harp’d he Valhal’s glories, rewards th’ einhergjes gain’d
And eke their father’s exploits, by land and sea obtain’d;
His sword then grasp’d each warrior, enkindled ev’ry look,
And ceaseless round th’ assembly its course the full horn took.

XXIV.

So, deeply in that king’s-house they drank all through the night,
A Yule carouse each champion enjoy’d with such delight!
And then to sleep loud haste they, so glad, and free from care;
But aged Ring he slumbered by Ing’borg’s side the fair!

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