CHAPTER XIV.



TRISTAN AND ISEULT.

[Sidenote: Origin of the story.] The story of Tristan, which seems to have been current from earliest times, refers, perhaps, to the adventures of a knight, the contemporary of Arthur or of Cassivellaunus. The tale seems to have already been known in the sixth century, and was soon seized upon by the bards, who found it a rich theme for their metrical romances. It is quite unknown whether it was first turned into Latin, French, or Welsh verse; but an established fact is that it has been translated into every European language, and was listened to with as much interest by the inhabitants of Iceland as by those of the sunny plains of Greece.

We know that there are metrical versions, or remains of metrical versions, attributed to Thomas of Ercildoune (the Rhymer), to Raoul de Beauvais, Chrestien de Troyes, Rusticien de Pise, Luces de Cast, Robert and Helie de Borron, and Gottfried von Strassburg, and that in our day it has been retold by Matthew Arnold and Swinburne, and made the subject of an opera by Wagner. These old metrical versions, recited with manifold variations by the minstrels, were finally collected into a prose romance, like most of the mediaeval poems of this kind.

The outline of the story, collected from many different sources, is as follows:

Meliadus (Rivalin, or Roland Rise) was Lord of Lyonesse (Ermonie, or Parmenia), and after warring for some time against Morgan, he entered into a seven-years' truce. This time of respite was employed by Meliadus in visiting Mark, King of Cornwall, who dwelt at Tintagel, where he was holding a great tournament. Many knights of tried valor hurried thither to win laurels, but none were able to unhorse Meliadus, who obtained every prize.

His courage was such that he even won the heart of Blanchefleur, the sister of the king. As the monarch refused to consent to their union, the young people were secretly married, or eloped, if we are to believe another version of the story.

[Sidenote: Birth of Tristan.] According to the first account, Blanchefleur remained at court, where, hearing that her husband had died, she breathed her last in giving birth to a son, whom she called Tristan (Tristrem), because he had come into the world under such sad circumstances. The second version relates that Blanchefleur died as Morgan entered the castle over her husband's dead body, and that her faithful retainer, Kurvenal (Rohand, Rual), in order to save her son, claimed him as his own.

The child Tristan grew up without knowing his real parentage, learned all that a knight was expected to know, and became especially expert as a hunter and as a harp player. One day he strolled on board of a Norwegian vessel which had anchored in the harbor near his ancestral home, and accepted the challenge of the Norsemen to play a game of chess for a certain wager.

As Tristan played at chess as well as upon the harp, he soon won the game; but the Northmen, rather than pay their forfeited wager, suddenly raised the anchor and sailed away, intending to sell the kidnaped youth as a slave.

"Ther com a ship of Norway, To Sir Rohandes hold, With haukes white and grey, And panes fair y-fold: Tristrem herd it say, On his playing he wold Tventi schilling to lay, Sir Rohand him told, And taught; For hauke silver he gold; The fairest men him raught." SCOTT, Sir Tristrem.

They had not gone far, however, before a terrible tempest arose, which threatened to sink the vessel and drown all on board. The mariners, supposing in their terror that this peril had come upon them because they had acted dishonorably, made a solemn vow to liberate the youth if they escaped.

The vow having been made, the wind ceased to blow; and anchoring in the nearest bay, the Norsemen bade Tristan land, and paid him the sum he had won at chess.

[Sidenote: Tristan in Cornwall.] Thus forsaken on an unknown shore, with nothing but his harp and bow, Tristan wandered through an extensive forest, where, coming across a party of huntsmen who had just slain a deer, he gave them valuable and lengthy instructions in matters pertaining to the chase, and taught them how to flay and divide their quarry according to the most approved mediaeval style. Then, accompanying them to the court of their master, King Mark, he charmed every one with his minstrelsy, and was invited to tarry there as long as he pleased. His foster father, Kurvenal, in the mean while, had set out to seek him; and in the course of his wanderings he too came to Mark's court, where he was overjoyed to find Tristan, whose parentage he revealed to the king.

Tristan now for the first time heard the story of his father's death, and refused to rest until he had avenged him. He immediately set out, slew Morgan, and recovered his father's estate of Lyonesse, which he intrusted to Kurvenal's care, while he himself went back to Cornwall. On arriving at Tintagel he was surprised to find all the court plunged in sorrow. Upon inquiring the cause he was informed that Morold, brother of the King of Ireland, had come to claim the usual tribute of three hundred pounds of silver and tin and three hundred promising youths to be sold into slavery.

Indignant at this claim, which had been enforced ever since Mark had been defeated in battle by the Irish king, Tristan boldly strode up to the emissary, tore the treaty in two, flung the pieces in his face, and challenged him to single combat. Morold, confident in his strength,—for he was a giant,—and relying particularly upon his poisoned sword, immediately accepted the challenge. When the usual preliminaries had been settled, the battle began.

"Sir Morold rode upon his steed, And flew against Tristan with speed Still greater than is falcons' flight; But warlike too was Tristan's might." GOTTFRIED VON STRASSBURG (Dippold's tr.).

Terrible blows were given and received, and at last Tristan sank to the ground on one knee, for his opponent's poisoned weapon had pierced his side.

Morold then called upon him to acknowledge himself beaten, promising to obtain a balsam from his sister Iseult (Isolde, Ysolde), who knew a remedy for such a dangerous wound. But Tristan, remembering that, if he surrendered, three hundred innocent children would be sold as slaves, made a last despairing effort, and slew Morold. Such was the force of the blow he dealt that he cut through the helmet and pierced Morold's skull, which was so hard that a fragment of his sword remained imbedded within the wound.

The people of Cornwall were, of course, delighted; and while the Irish heralds returned empty-handed to Dublin with Morold's remains, the King of Cornwall loudly proclaimed that as he had no son, Tristan should be his heir.

[Sidenote: Tristan's wound.] Tristan, however, was far from happy, for the wound in his side refused to heal, and gradually became so offensive that no one could bear his presence. As none of the court doctors could relieve him, he remembered Morold's words, and resolved to go to Ireland, in hopes that Iseult would cure him. Conscious, however, that she would never consent to help him if she suspected his identity, he embarked alone, or with Kurvenal, in a small vessel, taking only his harp, and drifted toward Ireland, where he arrived at the end of fifteen days. When he appeared at court, Tristan declared that he was a wandering minstrel called Tantris, and bespoke the kind offices of the queen, Iseult. Charmed by his music, she hastened to cure him of the grievous wound from which he had suffered so much.

Tristan, still unknown, remained at the Irish court for some time, spending many hours with Iseult, the daughter and namesake of the queen, whom he instructed daily in the art of music. After some months passed thus in pleasant intercourse, Tristan returned to Cornwall, where he related to Mark the story of his cure, and so extolled the beauty of young Iseult that the king finally expressed a desire to marry her. By the advice of the courtiers, who were jealous of Tristan, and who hoped that this mission would cost him his life, the young hero was sent to Ireland with an imposing retinue, to sue for the maiden's hand and to escort her safely to Cornwall.

On landing in Dublin, Tristan immediately became aware that the people were laboring under an unusual excitement. Upon questioning them he learned that a terrible dragon had taken up its station near the city, that it was devastating the country, and that the king had promised the hand of Iseult to the man who would slay the monster. Tristan immediately concluded that by killing the dragon he would have the best chance of successfully carrying out his uncle's wishes, so he sallied forth alone to attack it.

"This dragon had two furious wings, Each one upon each shoulder; With a sting in his tayl as long as a flayl, Which made him bolder and bolder.

"He had long claws, and in his jaws Four and forty teeth of iron; With a hide as tough as any buff Which did him round environ." Dragon of Wantly (Old Ballad).

[Sidenote: Tristan and the dragon.] In spite of the fearful appearance of this dragon, and of the volumes of fire and venom which it belched forth, Tristan encountered it bravely, and finally slew it. Then, cutting out the monster's tongue, he thrust it into his pocket, intending to produce it at the right moment. He had gone only a few steps, however, when, exhausted by his prolonged conflict, stunned by the poisonous fumes which he had inhaled, and overcome by the close contact with the dragon's tongue, he sank fainting to the ground. A few moments later the butler of the Irish king rode up. He saw the dragon dead, with his conqueror lifeless beside him, and quickly resolved to take advantage of this fortunate chance to secure the hand of the fair princess. He therefore cut off the dragon's head, and, going to court, boasted of having slain the monster just as it had killed a strange knight. Iseult and her mother, well aware that the man was a coward, refused to believe his story, and hastened off to the scene of the conflict, where they found the fainting Tristan with the dragon's tongue in his pocket.

To remove the poisonous substance, (which they, however, preserved,) convey the knight to the palace, and restore him by tender care, was the next impulse of these brave women. Then, while Iseult the younger sat beside her patient, watching his slumbers, she idly drew his sword from the scabbard. Suddenly her eye was caught by a dint in the blade, which she soon discovered was of exactly the same shape and size as the fragment of steel which she had found in her uncle's skull.

"Then all at once her heart grew cold In thinking of that deed of old. Her color changed through grief and ire From deadly pale to glowing fire. With sorrow she exclaimed: 'Alas! Oh, woe! what has now come to pass? Who carried here this weapon dread, By which mine uncle was struck dead? And he who slew him, Tristan hight. Who gave it to this minstrel knight?'" GOTTFRIED VON STRASSBURG (Dippold's tr.).

Morold's murderer lay helpless before her, and Iseult, animated by the spirit of vengeance, which was considered a sacred duty among the people of the time, was about to slay Tristan, when he opened his eyes and disarmed her by a glance. Her mother further hindered her carrying out her hostile intentions by telling her that Tristan had atoned for his crime by delivering the people from the power of the dragon.

As soon as Tristan had quite recovered, he appeared at court, where he offered to prove at the point of his sword that the butler had no claim to the princess's hand. A duel was arranged, and the butler, disarmed by Tristan, confessed his lie. Tristan then produced the dragon's tongue and told his adventures; but, to the general surprise, instead of suing for Iseult's hand for himself, he now asked it in the name of his uncle, King Mark of Cornwall.

[Sidenote: The love potion.] The young princess was none too well pleased at this unexpected turn of affairs; but, as princesses never had much to say about the choice of a husband, she obediently prepared to accompany the embassy to Tintagel. Her mother, wishing to preserve her from a loveless marriage, now sought out all manner of herbs wherewith to brew one of those magic love potions which were popularly supposed to have unlimited powers.

"Bethought her with her secret soul alone To work some charm for marriage unison, And strike the heart of Iseult to her lord With power compulsive more than stroke of sword." SWINBURNE, Tristram of Lyonesse.

This magic potion was put in a golden cup and intrusted to Brangwaine, the attendant of Iseult, with strict injunctions to guard the secret well, and to give the draught to her mistress and Mark to quaff together on their wedding day.

"Therefore with marvelous herbs and spells she wrought To win the very wonder of her thought, And brewed it with her secret hands, and blest And drew and gave out of her secret breast To one her chosen and Iseult's handmaiden, Brangwain, and bade her hide from sight of men This marvel covered in a golden cup, So covering in her heart the counsel up As in the gold the wondrous wine lay close." SWINBURNE, Tristram of Lyonesse.

Brangwaine carefully carried this potion on board the ship, and placed it in a cupboard, whence she intended to produce it when the suitable moment came. Iseult embarked with the escort sent from Cornwall, and Tristan, in order to beguile the long, weary hours of the journey, entertained her with all the songs and stories that he knew. One day, after singing for some time, he asked his fair young mistress for a drink; and she, going to the cupboard, drew out the magic potion, little guessing its power.

As was customary in those days in offering wine to an honored guest, she first put it to her own lips and then handed it to the thirsty minstrel, who drained it greedily. They had no sooner drunk, however, than the draught, working with subtle power, suddenly kindled in their hearts a passionate love, destined to last as long as they both lived.

"Now that the maiden and the man, Fair Iseult and Tristan, Both drank the drink, upon them pressed What gives the world such sore unrest,— Love, skilled in sly and prowling arts,— And swiftly crept in both their hearts; So, ere of him they were aware, Stood his victorious banners there. He drew them both into his power; One and single were they that hour That two and twofold were before." GOTTFRIED VON STRASSBURG (Bayard Taylor's tr.).

After the first few hours of rapture had passed, the young people, who honorably intended to keep their word and conquer the fatal passion which had overwhelmed them, remained apart, and when Iseult landed in Cornwall her marriage was celebrated with Mark. Brangwaine, who knew all that had passed, tried to shield her mistress in every way, and blind the king, who is depicted as a very unheroic monarch, but little fitted to secure the affections of the proud young Iseult.

[Sidenote: Tristan and Iseult.] This story of a love potion whose magic power none could resist, and of the undying love which it kindled in the unsuspecting hearts of Tristan and Iseult, has been treated in many ways by the different poets and prose writers who have handled it. In many of the older versions we have lengthy descriptions of stolen interviews, hairbreadth escapes, and tests of love, truth, and fidelity without number.

In many respects the story is a parallel of that of Lancelot and Guinevere, although it contains some incidents which are duplicated in the "Nibelungenlied" only. But throughout, the writers all aver that, owing to the magic draught, the lovers, however good their intentions, could not long exist without seeing each other.

By means of this boundless love Tristan is said to have had an intuitive knowledge of Iseult's peril, for he hastened to rescue her from danger whenever events took a turn which might prove fatal to her. There are in some of these old romances pretty descriptions of scenery and of the signals used by the lovers to communicate with each other when forced by adverse circumstances to remain apart. One of the poems, for instance, says that Tristan's love messages were written on chips of wood, which he floated down the little stream which flowed past his sylvan lodge and crossed the garden of the queen.

[Sidenote: Meliadus.] The inevitable villain of the tale is one of Mark's squires, the spy Meliadus, also a very unheroic character, who told the king of Tristan's love for Iseult. Mark, who all through the story seems strangely indifferent to his beautiful wife, was not aware of the magic draught and its powerful effect, but Meliadus roused him temporarily from his apathy.



As the queen had been publicly accused, he compelled her to prove her innocence by undergoing the ordeal of fire, or by taking a public oath that she had shown favor to none but him. On her way to the place where this ceremony was to take place, Iseult was carried across a stream by Tristan disguised as a beggar, and, at his request, kissed him in reward for this service.

When called upon to take her oath before the judges and assembled court, Iseult could truthfully swear that, with the exception of the beggar whom she had just publicly kissed, no other man than the king could ever boast of having received any special mark of her favor.

Thus made aware of their danger, the lovers again decided to part, and Tristan, deprived for a time of the sight of Iseult, went mad, and performed many extraordinary feats; for mediaeval poets generally drove their heroes into a frenzy when they did not know what else to do with them. Having recovered, and hoping to forget the fatal passion which had already caused him so much sorrow, Tristan now wandered off to Arthur's court, where he performed many deeds of valor. Thence he went on to various strange lands, distinguishing himself greatly everywhere, until he received from a poisoned arrow a wound which no doctor could heal.

[Sidenote: Iseult of Brittany.] Afraid to expose himself again to the fascinations of Iseult of Cornwall, Tristan went to Brittany, where another Iseult,—with the White Hands,—equally well skilled in medicine, tenderly nursed him back to health. This maiden, as good and gentle as she was beautiful, soon fell in love with the handsome knight, and hearing him sing a passionate lay in honor of Iseult, she fancied that her affections were returned, and that it was intended for her ear.

"I know her by her mildness rare, Her snow-white hands, her golden hair; I know her by her rich silk dress, And her fragile loveliness,— The sweetest Christian soul alive, Iseult of Brittany." MATTHEW ARNOLD, Tristram and Iseult.

The brother of this fair Iseult saw her love for Tristan, and offered him her hand, which he accepted more out of gratitude than love, and in the hope that he might at last overcome the effects of the fatal draught. But, in spite of all his good resolutions, he could not forget Iseult of Cornwall, and treated his wife with such polite coolness that her brother's suspicions were finally roused.

Tristan, having conquered a neighboring giant and magician by the name of Beliagog, had granted him his life only upon condition that he would build a marvelous palace in the forest, and adorn it with paintings and sculptures, true to life, and representing all the different stages of his passion for Iseult of Cornwall. When his brother-in-law, therefore, asked why he seemed to find no pleasure in the society of his young wife, Tristan led him to the palace, showed him the works of art, and told him all. Ganhardin, the brother-in-law, must evidently have considered the excuse a good one, for he not only forgave Tristan, but implored him to take him to Cornwall, for he had fallen in love with the picture of Brangwaine, and hoped to win her for wife. On the way thither the young knights met with sundry adventures, delivered Arthur from the power of the Lady of the Lake, and carried off Iseult, whom the cowardly Mark was ill treating, to Lancelot's castle of Joyeuse Garde. There she became acquainted with Guinevere, and remained with her until Arthur brought about a general reconciliation.

Then Tristan once more returned to Brittany, resumed his wonted knightly existence, and fought until he was wounded so sorely that Iseult of Brittany could not cure him. His faithful steward Kurvenal, hoping yet to save him, sailed for Cornwall to bring the other Iseult to the rescue; and as he left he promised his master to change the black sails of the vessel for white in case his quest were successful.

Tristan now watched impatiently for the returning sail, but just as it came into view he breathed his last. Some ill-advised writers have ventured to state that Iseult of Brittany, whose jealousy had been aroused, was guilty of Tristan's death by falsely averring, in answer to his feverish inquiry, that the long-expected vessel was wafted along by black sails; but, according to other authorities, she remained gentle and lovable to the end.

[Sidenote: Miracle of the plants.] Iseult of Cornwall, speeding to the rescue of her lover, whom nothing could make her forget, and finding him dead, breathed her last upon his corpse. Both bodies were then carried to Cornwall, where they were interred in separate graves by order of King Mark. But from the tomb of the dead minstrel there soon sprang a creeper, which, finding its way along the walls, descended into Iseult's grave. Thrice cut down by Mark's orders, the plant persisted in growing, thus emphasizing by a miracle the passionate love which made this couple proverbial in the middle ages. There are in subsequent literature many parallels of the miracle of the plant which sprang from Tristan's tomb, as is seen by the Ballad of Lord Thomas and Fair Annet, and of Lord Lovel, where, as in later versions of the Tristan legend, a rose and a vine grew out of the respective graves and twined tenderly around each other.

"And out of her breast there grew a red rose, And out of his breast a brier." Ballad of Lord Lovel.



CHAPTER XV.



THE STORY OF FRITHIOF.

[Sidenote: Northern sagas.] Norse, Danish, and Swedish writers have frequently called public attention to the vast literary treasures which are contained in the old sagas or tales of their forefathers. The work of northern scalds whose names in most cases are unknown to us, these stories relate the lives and adventures of the gods and heroes of the North. Many of these old sagas have been translated into various other European languages; but Tegner, a Swedish writer of this century, has done most to revive a taste for them by making one of them the basis of a poem which is generally considered a masterpiece.

Tegner's "Frithiof Saga" has been translated once at least into every European tongue, and more than eighteen times into English and German. Goethe spoke of the work with the greatest enthusiasm, and the tale, which gives a matchless picture of the life of our heathen ancestors in the North, has been the source of inspiration for important works of art.

Although Tegner has chosen for his theme the Frithiof saga only, we find that that tale is the sequel to the older but less interesting Thorsten saga, of which we give here a very brief outline, merely to enable the reader to understand clearly every allusion in the more modern poem.

As is so frequently the case with these ancient tales, the story begins with Haloge (Loki), who came north with Odin, and began to reign over north Norway, which from him was called Halogaland. According to northern mythology, this god had two lovely daughters. They were carried off by bold suitors, who, banished from the mainland by Haloge's curses and magic spells, took refuge with their newly won wives upon neighboring islands.

[Sidenote: Birth of Viking.] Thus it happened that Haloge's grandson, Viking, was born upon the island of Bornholm, in the Balitic Sea, where he dwelt until he was fifteen, and where he became the largest and strongest man of his time. Rumors of his valor finally reached Hunvor, a Swedish princess; and, as she was oppressed by the attentions of a gigantic suitor whom none dared drive away, she quickly sent for Viking to deliver her.

Thus summoned, the youth departed, after having received from his father a magic sword named Angurvadel, whose blows would prove fatal even to the giant suitor of Hunvor. A "holmgang," the northern name for a duel, ensued, and Viking, having slain his antagonist, could have married the princess had it not been considered disgraceful for a Northman to marry before he was twenty.

To beguile the time of waiting, Viking set out in a well-manned dragon ship; and, cruising about the northern and southern seas, he met with countless adventures. During this time he was particularly persecuted by the slain giant's kin, who were adepts in magic, and caused him to encounter innumerable perils by land and by sea.

Aided and abetted by his bosom friend, Halfdan, Viking escaped every danger, slew many of his foes, and, after recovering his promised bride, Hunvor, whom the enemy had carried off to India, he settled down in Sweden. His friend, faithful in peace as well as in war, settled near him, and married also, choosing for his wife Ingeborg, Hunvor's attendant.

The saga now describes the long, peaceful winters, when the warriors feasted and listened to the tales of the scalds, rousing themselves to energetic efforts only when returning spring again permitted them to launch their dragon ships and set out once more upon their favorite piratical expeditions. In the olden story the bards relate with great gusto every phase of attack and defense during cruise and raid, describe every blow given and received, and spare us none of carnage, or lurid flames which envelop both enemies and ships in common ruin. A fierce fight is often an earnest of future friendship, however, for we are told that Halfdan and Viking, having failed to conquer Njorfe, even after a most obstinate struggle, sheathed their swords and accepted him as a third in their close bond of friendship.

On returning home after one of these customary raids, Viking lost his beloved wife; and, after intrusting her child, Ring, to the care of a foster father, and undergoing a short period of mourning, the brave warrior married again. This time his marital bliss was more lasting, for the saga reports that his second wife bore him nine stalwart sons.

Njorfe, King of Uplands, in Norway, had, in the mean while, followed Viking's example, and he too rejoiced in a large family, numbering also nine brave sons. Now, although their fathers were united in bonds of the closest friendship, having sworn blood brotherhood according to the true northern rites, the young men were jealous of one another, and greatly inclined to quarrel.

[Sidenote: Early ball games.] Notwithstanding this smoldering animosity, these youths often met; and the saga relates that they used to play ball together, and gives a description of the earliest ball game on record in the northern annals. Viking's sons, as tall and strong as he, were inclined to be rather reckless of their opponents' welfare, and, judging from the following account, translated from the old saga, the players were often left in as sorry a condition as after a modern game.

"The next morning the brothers went to the games, and generally had the ball during the day; they pushed men and let them fall roughly, and beat others. At night three men had their arms broken, and many were bruised or maimed."

The game between Njorfe's and Viking's sons culminated in a disagreement, and one of the former nine struck one of the latter a dangerous and treacherous blow. Prevented from taking his revenge then and there by the interference of the spectators, the injured man made a trivial excuse to return to the ball ground alone; and, meeting his assailant there, he killed him.

When Viking heard that one of his sons had slain one of his friend's children, he was very indignant, and, mindful of his oath to avenge all Njorfe's wrongs, he banished the young murderer. The other brothers, on hearing this sentence, all vowed that they would accompany the exile, and so Viking sorrowfully bade them farewell, giving his sword Angurvadel to Thorsten, the eldest, and cautioning him to remain quietly on an island in Lake Wener until all danger of retaliation on the part of Njorfe's remaining sons was over.

The young men obeyed; but Njorfe's sons, who had no boats to take them across the lake, soon made use of a conjuror's art to bring about a great frost, and, accompanied by many armed men, stole noiselessly over the ice to attack Thorsten and his brothers. A terrible carnage ensued, and only two of the attacking party managed to escape, leaving, as they fancied, all their foes among the dead.

But when Viking came to bury his sons, he found that two of them, Thorsten and Thorer, were still alive, and he secretly conveyed them to a cellar beneath his dwelling, where they recovered from their wounds.

By magic arts Njorfe's two sons discovered that their opponents were not dead, and soon made a second desperate but vain attempt to kill them. Viking saw that the quarrel would be incessantly renewed if his sons remained at home; so he now sent them to Halfdan, whose court they reached after a series of adventures which in many points resemble those of Theseus on his way to Athens.

When spring came Thorsten embarked on a piratical excursion, and encountered Jokul, Njorfe's eldest son, who, in the mean while, had taken forcible possession of the kingdom of Sogn, after killing the king, banishing his heir, Bele, and changing his beautiful daughter, Ingeborg, into the form of an old witch.

Throughout the story Jokul is represented as somewhat of a coward, for he resorted by preference to magic when he wished to injure Viking's sons. Thus he stirred up great tempests, and Thorsten, after twice suffering shipwreck, was saved from the waves by the witch Ingeborg, whom he promised to marry in gratitude for her good services.

Thorsten, advised by her, went in search of Bele, replaced him on his hereditary throne, swore eternal friendship with him, and, the baleful spell being removed, married the beautiful Ingeborg, who dwelt with him at Framnaes.

[Sidenote: Thorsten and Bele.] Every spring Thorsten and Bele now set out together in their ships; and, joining forces with Angantyr, a foe whose mettle they had duly tested, they proceeded to recover possession of a priceless treasure, a magic dragon ship named Ellida, which Aegir, god of the sea, had once given to Viking in reward for hospitable treatment, and which had been stolen from him.

"A royal gift to behold, for the swelling planks of its framework Were not fastened with nails, as is wont, but grown in together. Its shape was that of a dragon when swimming, but forward Its head rose proudly on high, the throat with yellow gold flaming; Its belly was spotted with red and yellow, but back by the rudder Coiled out its mighty tail in circles, all scaly with silver; Black wings with edges of red; when all were expanded Ellida raced with the whistling storm, but outstript the eagle. When filled to the edge with warriors, it sailed o'er the waters, You'd deem it a floating fortress, or warlike abode of a monarch. The ship was famed far and wide, and of ships was first in the North." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

The next season, Thorsten, Bele, and Angantyr conquered the Orkney Islands, which were given as kingdom to the latter, he voluntarily pledging himself to pay a yearly tribute to Bele. Next Thorsten and Bele went in quest of a magic ring, or armlet, once forged by Voelund, the smith, and stolen by Sote, a famous pirate.

This bold robber was so afraid lest some one should gain possession of the magic ring, that he had buried himself alive with it in a mound in Bretland. Here his ghost was said to keep constant watch over it, and when Thorsten entered his tomb, Bele heard the frightful blows given and received, and saw lurid gleams of supernatural fire.

When Thorsten finally staggered out of the mound, pale and bloody, but triumphant, he refused to speak of the horrors he had encountered to win the coveted treasure, nor would he ever vouchsafe further information than this:

"'Dearly bought is the prize,' said he often, 'For I trembled but once in my life, and 'twas when I seized it!'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

[Sidenote: Birth of Frithiof and Ingeborg.] Thus owner of the three greatest treasures in the North, Thorsten returned home to Framnaes, where Ingeborg bore him a fine boy, Frithiof, the playmate of Halfdan and Helge, Bele's sons. The three youths were already well grown when Ingeborg, Bele's little daughter, was born, and as she was intrusted to the care of Hilding, Frithiof's foster father, the children grew up in perfect amity.

"Jocund they grew, in guileless glee; Young Frithiof was the sapling tree; In budding beauty by his side, Sweet Ingeborg, the garden's pride." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.).

Frithiof soon became hardy and fearless under his foster father's training, and Ingeborg rapidly developed all the sweetest traits of female loveliness. Both, however, were happiest when together; and as they grew older their childish affection daily became deeper and more intense, until Hilding, perceiving this state of affairs, bade the youth remember that he was only a subject, and therefore no mate for the king's only daughter.

"But Hilding said, 'O foster son, Set not thy heart her love upon, For Destiny thy wish gainsaid; King Bele's daughter is the maid!

"'From Odin's self, in starry sky, Descends her ancestry so high; But thou art Thorsten's son, so yield, And leave to mightier names the field.'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.)

[Sidenote: Frithiof's love for Ingeborg.] These wise admonitions came too late, however, and Frithiof vehemently declared that he would win the fair Ingeborg for his bride in spite of all obstacles and his comparatively humble origin.

Shortly after this Bele and Thorsten met for the last time, near the magnificent shrine of Balder, where the king, feeling that his end was near, had convened a solemn assembly, or Thing, of all his principal subjects, in order to present his sons Helge and Halfdan to the people as his chosen successors. The young heirs were very coldly received on this occasion, for Helge was of a somber and taciturn disposition, and inclined to the life of a priest, and Halfdan was of a weak, effeminate nature, and noted for his cowardice. Frithiof, who was present, and stood beside them, cast them both in the shade, and won many admiring glances from the throng.

"But after them came Frithiof, in mantle blue— He by a head was taller than th' other two. He stood between the brethren, as day should light Between the rosy morning and darksome night." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.)

After giving his last instructions to his sons, and speaking kindly to Frithiof, who was his favorite, the old king turned to his lifelong companion, Thorsten, to take leave of him, but the old warrior declared that they would not long be parted. Bele then spoke again to his sons, and bade them erect his howe, or funeral mound, within sight of that of Thorsten, that their spirits might commune, and not be sundered even in death.

"'But lay us gently, children, where the blue wave, Beating harmonious cadence, the shore doth lave; Its murmuring song is pleasant unto the soul, And like a lamentation its ceaseless roll.

"'And when the moon's pale luster around us streams, And midnight dim grows radiant with silver beams, There will we sit, O Thorsten, upon our graves, And talk of bygone battles by the dark waves.

"'And now, farewell, my children! Come here no more; Our road lies to Allfather's far-distant shore, E'en as the troubled river sweeps to the sea: By Frey and Thor and Odin blessed may ye be.'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

[Sidenote: Helge and Halfdan.] These instructions were all piously obeyed when the aged companions had breathed their last. Then the brothers, Helge and Halfdan, began to rule their kingdom, while Frithiof, their former playmate, withdrew to his own place at Framnaes, a very fertile homestead, lying in a snug valley closed in by the towering mountains and the ever-changing ocean.

"Three miles extended around the fields of the homestead; on three sides Valleys and mountains and hills, but on the fourth side was the ocean. Birch-woods crowned the summits, but over the down-sloping hillsides Flourished the golden corn, and man-high was waving the rye- field." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.).

But although surrounded by faithful retainers, and blessed with much wealth and the possession of the famous sword Angurvadel, the Voelund ring, and the matchless dragon ship Ellida, Frithiof was unhappy, because he could no longer see the fair Ingeborg daily. With the returning spring, however, all his former spirits returned, for both kings came to visit him, accompanied by their fair sister, with whom he lived over the happy childish years, and spent long hours in cheerful companionship. As they were thus constantly thrown together, Frithiof soon made known to Ingeborg his deep affection, and received in return an avowal of her love.

"He sat by her side, and he pressed her soft hand, And he felt a soft pressure responsive and bland; Whilst his love-beaming gaze Was returned as the sun's in the moon's placid rays." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.).

[Sidenote: Frithiof's suit.] When the visit was over and the guests had departed, Frithiof informed his confidant and chief companion, Bjoern, of his determination to follow them and openly ask for Ingeborg's hand. His ship was prepared, and after a swift sail touched the shore near Balder's shrine. Discerning the royal brothers seated in state on Bele's tomb to listen to the petitions of their subjects, Frithiof immediately presented himself before them, and manfully made his request, adding that the old king had always loved him and would surely have granted his prayer.

"They were seated on Bele's tomb, and o'er The common folk administered law. But Frithiof speaks, And his voice re-echoes round valleys and peaks.

"'Ye kings, my love is Ingborg fair; To ask her in marriage I here repair; And what I require I here maintain was King Bele's desire.

"'He let us grow in Hilding's care, Like two young saplings, year by year; And therefore, kings, Unite the full-grown trees with golden rings.'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

But although he promised lifelong fealty and the service of his strong right arm in exchange for the boon he craved, Helge contemptuously dismissed him. Enraged at the insult thus publicly received, Frithiof raised his invincible sword; but, remembering that he stood on a consecrated spot, he spared the king, only cutting the royal shield in two to show the strength of his blade, and striding back to his ship, he embarked and sailed away in sullen silence.

"And lo! cloven in twain at a stroke Fell King Helge's gold shield from its pillar of oak: At the clang of the blow, The live started above, the dead started below." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.).

[Sidenote: Sigurd Ring a suitor.] Just after his departure came messengers from Sigurd Ring, the aged King of Ringric, in Norway, who, having lost his wife, sent to Helge and Halfdan to ask Ingeborg's hand in marriage. Before answering this royal suitor, Helge consulted the Vala, or prophetess, and the priests, and as they all declared that the omens were not in favor of this marriage, he gave an insolent refusal to the messengers. This impolitic conduct so offended the would-be suitor that he immediately collected an army and prepared to march against the Kings of Sogn to avenge the insult with his sword. When the rumor of his approach reached the cowardly brothers they were terrified, and fearing to encounter the foe alone, they sent Hilding to Frithiof to implore his aid.

Hilding gladly undertook the mission, although he had not much hope of its success. He found Frithiof playing chess with a friend, Bjoern, and immediately made known his errand.

"'From Bele's high heirs I come with courteous words and prayers: Disastrous tidings rouse the brave; On thee a nation's hope relies.

* * * * *

In Balder's fane, grief's loveliest prey, Sweet Ing'borg weeps the livelong day: Say, can her tears unheeded fall, Nor call her champion to her side?'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.).

But Frithiof was so deeply offended that even this appeal in the name of his beloved could not move him. Quietly he continued his game of chess, and, when it was ended, told Hilding that he had no answer to give. Rightly concluding that Frithiof would lend the kings no aid, Hilding returned to Helge and Halfdan, who, forced to fight without their bravest leader, preferred to make a treaty with Sigurd Ring, promising to give him not only their sister Ingeborg, but also a yearly tribute.

[Sidenote: At Balder's shrine.] While they were thus engaged at Sogn Sound, Frithiof hastened to Balder's temple, where, as Hilding had declared, he found Ingeborg a prey to grief. Now although it was considered a sacrilege for man and woman to exchange a word in the sacred building, Frithiof could not see his beloved in tears without attempting to console her; and, forgetting all else, he spoke to her and comforted her. He repeated how dearly he loved her, quieted all her apprehensions of the gods' anger by assuring her that Balder, the good, must view their innocent passion with approving eyes, said that love as pure as theirs could defile no sanctuary, and plighted his troth to her before the shrine.



"'What whisper you of Balder's ire? The pious god—he is not wrath. He loves himself, and doth inspire Our love—the purest he calls forth. The god with true and steadfast heart, The sun upon his glittering form, Is not his love for Nanna part Of his own nature, pure and warm?

"'There is his image; he is near. How mild he looks on me—how kind! A sacrifice to him I'll bear, The offer of a loving mind. Kneel down with me; no better gift, No fairer sure for Balder is, Than two young hearts, whose love doth lift Above the world almost like his.'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

Reassured by this reasoning, Ingeborg no longer refused to see and converse with Frithiof; and during the kings' absence the young lovers met every day, and plighted their troth with Volund's ring, which Ingeborg solemnly promised to send back to her lover should she break her promise to live for him alone. Frithiof lingered there until the kings' return, when, for love of Ingeborg the fair, he again appeared before them, and pledged himself to free them from their thraldom to Sigurd Ring if they would only reconsider their decision and promise him their sister's hand.

"'War is abroad, And strikes his echoing shield within our borders; Thy crown and land, King Helge, are in danger; Give me thy sister's hand, and I will use Henceforth my warlike force in thy defense. Let then the wrath between us be forgotten, Unwillingly I strive 'gainst Ingborg's brother. Secure, O king, by one fraternal act Thy golden crown and save thy sister's heart. Here is my hand. By Thor, I ne'er again Present it here for reconciliation.'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

[Sidenote: Frithiof in disgrace.] But although this offer was hailed with rapture by the assembled warriors, it was again scornfully rejected by Helge, who declared that he would have granted it had not Frithiof proved himself unworthy of all confidence by defiling the temple of the gods. Frithiof tried to defend himself; but as he had to plead guilty to the accusation of having conversed with Ingeborg at Balder's shrine, he was convicted of having broken the law, and, in punishment therefor, condemned to sail off to the Orkney Islands to claim tribute from the king, Angantyr.

Before he sailed, however, he once more sought Ingeborg, and vainly tried to induce her to elope with him by promising her a home in the sunny south, where her happiness should be his law, and where she should rule over his subjects as his honored wife. Ingeborg sorrowfully refused to accompany him, saying that, since her father was no more, she was in duty bound to obey her brothers implicitly, and could not marry without their consent.

"'But Helge is my father, Stands in my father's place; on his consent Depends my hand, and Bele's daughter steals not Her earthly happiness, how near it be.'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

After a heartrending parting scene, Frithiof embarked upon Ellida, and sorrowfully sailed out of the harbor, while Ingeborg wept at his departure. When the vessel was barely out of sight, Helge sent for two witches named Heid and Ham, bidding them begin their incantations, and stir up such a tempest at sea that it would be impossible for even the god-given vessel Ellida to withstand its fury, and all on board would perish. The witches immediately complied; and with Helge's aid they soon stirred up a storm unparalleled in history.

"Helge on the strand Chants his wizard-spell, Potent to command Fiends of earth or hell. Gathering darkness shrouds the sky; Hark, the thunder's distant roll! Lurid lightnings, as they fly, Streak with blood the sable pole. Ocean, boiling to its base, Scatters wide its wave of foam; Screaming, as in fleetest chase, Sea-birds seek their island home." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.).

[Sidenote: The tempest.] In spite of tossing waves and whistling blasts, Frithiof sang a cheery song to reassure his frightened crew; but when the peril grew so great that his exhausted men gave themselves up for lost, he bade Bjoern hold the rudder, and himself climbed up to the mast top to view the horizon. While perched up there he descried a whale, upon which the two witches were riding at ease. Speaking to his good ship, which was gifted with the power of understanding and obeying his words, he now ran down both witches and whale, and the sea was reddened with their blood. No sooner had they sunk than the wind fell, the waves ceased to heave and toss as before, and soon fair weather again smiled over the seas.

"Now the storm has flown, The sea is calm awhile; A gentle swell is blown Against the neighboring isle.

"Then at once the sun arose, Like a king who mounts his throne, Vivifies the world and throws His light on billow, field, and stone. His new-born beams adorn awhile A dark green grove on rocky top, All recognize a sea-girt isle, Amongst the distant Orkney's group." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

Exhausted by their previous superhuman efforts and by the bailing of their water-logged vessel, the men were too weak to land when they at last reached the Orkney Islands, and had to be carried ashore by Bjoern and Frithiof, who gently laid them down on the sand, bidding them rest and refresh themselves after all the hardships they had endured.

"Tired indeed are all on board, All the crew of Frithiofs men, Scarce supported by a sword, Can they raise themselves again. Bjoern takes four of them ashore, On his mighty shoulders wide, Frithiof singly takes twice four, Places them the fire beside. 'Blush not, ye pale ones, The sea's a valiant viking; 'Tis hard indeed to fight Against the rough sea waves. Lo! there comes the mead horn On golden feet descending, To warm our frozen limbs. Hail to Ingeborg!'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

The arrival of Frithiof and his men had been seen by the watchman of Angantyr's castle, who immediately informed his master of all he had seen. The jarl exclaimed that the ship which had weathered such a gale could be none but Ellida, and that its captain was doubtless Frithiof, Thorsten's gallant son. At these words one of his Berserkers, Atle, caught up his weapons and strode out of the hall, vowing that he would challenge Frithiof, and thus satisfy himself concerning the veracity of the tales he had heard of the young hero's courage.

[Sidenote: Atle's challenge.] Although still greatly exhausted, Frithiof immediately accepted Atle's challenge, and, after a sharp encounter, threw his antagonist, whom he would have slain then and there had his sword been within reach. Atle saw his intention, and bade him go in search of a weapon, promising to remain motionless during his absence. Frithiof, knowing that such a warrior's promise was inviolable, immediately obeyed; but when he returned with his sword, and found his antagonist calmly awaiting death, he relented, and bade Atle rise and live.

"With patience long not gifted, Frithiof the foe would kill, And Angurvadel lifted, But Atle yet lay still. This touched the hero's soul; He stayed the sweeping brand Before it reached its goal, And took the fall'n one's hand." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga(Spalding's tr.).

Together these doughty warriors then wended their way to Angantyr's halls, where they found a festal board awaiting them, and there they ate and drank, sang songs, and recounted stories of thrilling adventure by land and by sea.

At last, however, Frithiof made known his errand. Angantyr said that he owed no tribute to Helge, and would pay him none; but that he would give the required sum as a free gift to his old friend Thorsten's son, leaving him at liberty to dispose of it as he pleased. Then, since the season was unpropitious, and storms continually swept over the sea, the king invited Frithiof to tarry with him; and it was only when the gentle spring breezes were blowing once more that he at last allowed him to depart.

After sailing over summer seas, wafted along by favorable winds for six days, Frithiof came in sight of his home, Framnaes, which had been reduced to a shapeless heap of ashes by Helge's orders. Sadly steering past the ruins, he arrived at Baldershage, where Hilding met him and informed him that Ingeborg was now the wife of Sigurd Ring. When Frithiof heard these tidings he flew into a Berserker rage, and bade his men destroy all the vessels in the harbor, while he strode up to the temple alone in search of Helge. He found him there before the god's image, roughly flung Angantyr's heavy purse of gold in his face, and when, as he was about to leave the temple, he saw the ring he had given Ingeborg on the arm of Helge's wife, he snatched it away from her. In trying to recover it she dropped the god's image, which she had just been anointing, into the fire, where it was rapidly consumed, and the rising flames soon set the temple roof in a blaze.

Frithiof, horror-stricken at the sacrilege which he had involuntarily occasioned, after vainly trying to extinguish the flames and save the costly sanctuary, escaped to his ship and waiting companions, to begin the weary life of an outcast and exile.

"The temple soon in ashes lay, Ashes the temple's bower; Wofully Frithiof goes his way, Weeps in the morning hour." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

[Sidenote: Frithiof an exile.] Helge's men started in pursuit, hoping to overtake and punish him; but when they reached the harbor they could not find a single seaworthy craft, and were forced to stand on the shore in helpless inactivity while Ellida's great sails slowly sank beneath the horizon. It was thus that Frithiof sadly saw his native land vanish from sight; and as it disappeared he breathed a tender farewell to the beloved country which he never expected to see again.

"'World-circle's brow, Thou mighty North! I may not go Upon thine earth; But in no other I love to dwell; Now, hero-mother, Farewell, farewell!

"'Farewell, thou high And heavenly one, Night's sleeping eye, Midsummer sun. Thou clear blue sky, Like hero's soul, Ye stars on high, Farewell, farewell!

"'Farewell, ye mounts Where Honour thrives, And Thor recounts Good warriors' lives. Ye azure lakes, I know so well, Ye woods and brakes, Farewell, farewell!

"'Farewell, ye tombs, By billows blue, The lime tree blooms Its snow on you. The Saga sets In judgment-veil What earth forgets; Farewell, farewell!

"'Farewell the heath, The forest hoar I played beneath, By streamlet's roar. To childhood's friends Who loved me well, Remembrance sends A fond farewell!

"'My love is foiled, My rooftree rent, Mine honour soiled, In exile sent! We turn from earth, On ocean dwell, But, joy and mirth, Farewell, farewell!'" TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

After thus parting from his native land, Frithiof took up the life of a pirate, rover, or viking, whose code was never to settle anywhere, to sleep on his shield, to fight and neither give nor take quarter, to protect the ships which paid him tribute and sack the others, and to distribute all the booty to his men, reserving for himself nothing but the glory of the enterprise. Sailing and fighting thus, Frithiof visited many lands, and came to the sunny isles of Greece, whither he would fain have carried Ingeborg as his bride; but wherever he went and whatever he did, he was always haunted by the recollection of his beloved and of his native land.

[Sidenote: At the court of Sigurd Ring.] Overcome at last by homesickness, Frithiof returned northward, determined to visit Sigurd Ring's court and ascertain whether Ingeborg was really well and happy. Steering his vessel up the Vik (the main part of the Christiania-Fiord), he intrusted it to Bjoern's care, and alone, on foot, and enveloped in a tattered mantle, which he used as disguise, he went to the court of Sigurd Ring, arriving there just as the Yuletide festivities were being held. As if in reality nothing more than the aged beggar he appeared, Frithiof sat down upon the bench near the door, where he became the butt of the courtiers' rough jokes; but when one of his tormentors approached too closely he caught him in his powerful grasp and swung him high above his head.

Terrified by this proof of great strength, the courtiers silently withdrew, while Sigurd Ring invited the old man to remove his mantle, take a seat beside him, and share his good cheer. Frithiof accepted the invitation thus cordially given, and when he had laid aside his squalid outward apparel all started with surprise to see a handsome warrior, richly clad, and adorned with a beautiful ring.

"Now from the old man's stooping head is loosed the sable hood, When lo! a young man smiling stands, where erst the old one stood. See! From his lofty forehead, round shoulders broad and strong, The golden locks flow glistening, like sunlight waves along.

"He stood before them glorious in velvet mantle blue, His baldrics broad, with silver worked, the artist's skill did shew; For round about the hero's breast and round about his waist, The beasts and birds of forest wild, embossed, each other chased.

"The armlet's yellow luster shone rich upon his arm; His war sword by his side—in strife a thunderbolt alarm. Serene the hero cast his glance around the men of war; Bright stood he there as Balder, as tall as Asa Thor." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).



But although his appearance was so unusual, none of the people present recognized him save Ingeborg only; and when the king asked him who he was he evasively replied that he was Thiolf (a thief), that he came from Ulf's (the wolf's), and had been brought up in Anger (sorrow or grief). Notwithstanding this unenticing account of himself, Sigurd Ring invited him to remain; and Frithiof, accepting the proffered hospitality, became the constant companion of the king and queen, whom he accompanied wherever they went.

One day, when the royal couple were seated in a sleigh and skimming along a frozen stream, Frithiof sped on his skates before them, performing graceful evolutions, and cutting Ingeborg's name deep in the ice. All at once the ice broke and the sleigh disappeared; but Frithiof, springing forward, caught the horse by the bridle, and by main force dragged them all out of their perilous position.

When spring came, Sigurd Ring invited Frithiof to accompany him on a hunting expedition. The king became separated from all the rest of his suite, and saying that he was too weary to continue the chase, he lay down to rest upon the cloak which Frithiof spread out for him, resting his head upon his young guest's knee.

"Then threw Frithiof down his mantle, and upon the greensward spread, And the ancient king so trustful laid on Frithiof's knee his head; Slept, as calmly as the hero sleepeth after war's alarms On his shield, calm as an infant sleepeth in its mother's arms." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Longfellow's tr.).

[Sidenote: Frithiof's loyalty.]While the aged king was thus reposing, the birds and beasts of the forest softly drew near, bidding Frithiof take advantage of his host's unconsciousness to slay him and recover the bride of whom he had been unfairly deprived. But although Frithiof understood the language of birds and beasts, and his hot young heart clamored for his beloved, he utterly refused to listen to them; and, fearing lest he should involuntarily harm his trusting host, he impulsively flung his sword far from him into a neighboring thicket.

A few moments later Sigurd Ring awoke from his feigned sleep, and after telling Frithiof that he had recognized him from the first, had tested him in many ways, and had always found his honor fully equal to his vaunted courage, he bade him be patient a little longer, for his end was very near, and said that he would die happy if he could leave Ingeborg, his infant heir, and his kingdom in such good hands. Then, taking the astonished Frithiof's arm, Sigurd Ring returned home, where, feeling death draw near, he dedicated himself anew to Odin by carving the Geirs-odd, or sacrificial runes, deeply in his aged chest.

"Bravely he slashes Odin's red letters, Blood-runes of heroes, on arm and on breast. Brightly the splashes Of life's flowing fetters Drip from the silver of hair-covered chest." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

When this ceremony was finished, Sigurd Ring laid Ingeborg's hand in Frithiof's, and, once more commending her to the young hero's loving care, closed his eyes and breathed his last.

[Sidenote: Betrothal of Frithiof and Ingeborg.] All the nation assembled to raise a mound for Sigurd Ring; and by his own request the funeral feast was closed by a banquet to celebrate the betrothal of Ingeborg and Frithiof. The latter had won the people's enthusiastic admiration; but when they would fain have elected him king, Frithiof raised Sigurd Ring's little son up on his shield and presented him to the assembled nobles as their future king, publicly swearing to uphold him until he was of age to defend himself. The child, weary of his cramped position on the shield, boldly sprang to the ground as soon as Frithiof's speech was ended, and alighted upon his feet. This act of daring in so small a child was enough to win the affection and admiration of all his rude subjects.

According to some accounts, Frithiof now made war against Ingeborg's brothers, and after conquering them, allowed them to retain their kingdom only upon condition of their paying him a yearly tribute. Then he and Ingeborg remained in Ringric until the young king was able to assume the government, when they repaired to Hordaland, a kingdom Frithiof had obtained by conquest, and which he left to his sons Gungthiof and Hunthiof.

[Sidenote: Frithiofs vision.] But according to Tegner's poem, Frithiof, soon after his second betrothal to Ingeborg, made a pious pilgrimage to his father's resting place, and while seated on the latter's funeral mound, plunged in melancholy and remorse at the sight of the desolation about him, he was favored by a vision of a new temple, more beautiful than the first, within whose portals he beheld the three Norns.

"And lo! reclining on their runic shields The mighty Nornas now the portal fill; Three rosebuds fair which the same garden yields, With aspect serious, but charming still. Whilst Urda points upon the blackened fields, The fairy temple Skulda doth reveal. When Frithiof first his dazzled senses cleared, Rejoiced, admired, the vision disappeared." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

The hero immediately understood that the gods had thus pointed out to him a means of atonement, and spared neither wealth nor pains to restore Balder's temple and grove, which soon rose out of the ashes in more than their former splendor.

When the temple was all finished, and duly consecrated to Balder's service, Frithiof received Ingeborg at the altar from her brothers' hands, and ever after lived on amicable terms with them.

"Now stepped Halfdan in Over the brazen threshold, and with wistful look Stood silent, at a distance from the dreaded one. Then Frithiof loosed the Harness-hater from his thigh, Against the altar placed the golden buckler round, And forward came unarmed to meet his enemy: 'In such a strife,' thus he commenced, with friendly voice, 'The noblest he who first extends the hand of peace.' Then blushed King Halfdan deep, and drew his gauntlet off, And long-divided hands now firmly clasped each other, A mighty pressure, steadfast as the mountain's base. The old man then absolved him from the curse which lay Upon the Varg i Veum,[1] on the outlawed man. And as he spake the words, fair Ingeborg came in, Arrayed in bridal dress, and followed by fair maids, E'en as the stars escort the moon in heaven's vault. Whilst tears suffused her soft and lovely eyes, she fell Into her brother's arms, but deeply moved he led His cherished sister unto Frithiof's faithful breast, And o'er the altar of the god she gave her hand Unto her childhood's friend, the darling of her heart." TEGNER, Frithiof Saga (Spalding's tr.).

[Footnote 1: Wolf in the sanctuaries.]



CHAPTER XVI.



RAGNAR LODBROK.

"Last from among the Heroes one came near, No God, but of the hero troop the chief— Regner, who swept the northern sea with fleets, And ruled o'er Denmark and the heathy isles, Living; but Ella captured him and slew;— A king whose fame then fill'd the vast of Heaven, Now time obscures it, and men's later deeds." MATTHEW ARNOLD, Balder Dead.

[Sidenote: Ragnar Lodbrok saga.] Ragnar Lodbrok, who figures in history as the contemporary of Charlemagne, is one of the great northern heroes, to whom many mythical deeds of valor are ascribed. His story has given rise not only to the celebrated Ragnar Lodbrok saga, so popular in the thirteenth century, but also to many poems and songs by ancient scalds and modern poets. The material of the Ragnar Lodbrok saga was probably largely borrowed from the Volsunga saga and from the saga of Dietrich von Bern, the chief aim of the ancient composers being to connect the Danish dynasty of kings with the great hero Sigurd, the slayer of Fafnir, and thereby to prove that their ancestor was no less a person than Odin.

The hero of this saga was Ragnar, the son of Sigurd Ring and his first wife, Alfild. According to one version of the story, as we have seen, Sigurd Ring married Ingeborg, and died, leaving Frithiof to protect his young son. According to another, Sigurd Ring appointed Ragnar as his successor, and had him recognized as future ruler by the Thing before he set out upon his last military expedition.

This was a quest for a new wife named Alfsol, a princess of Jutland, with whom, in spite of his advanced years, he had fallen passionately in love. Her family, however, rudely refused Sigurd Ring's request. When he came to win his bride by the force of arms, and they saw themselves defeated, they poisoned Alfsol rather than have her fall alive into the viking's hands.

Sigurd Ring, finding a corpse where he had hoped to clasp a living and loving woman, was so overcome with grief that he now resolved to die too. By his orders Alfsol's body was laid in state on a funeral pyre on his best ship. Then, when the fire had been kindled, and the ship cut adrift from its moorings, Sigurd Ring sprang on board, and, stabbing himself, was burned with the fair maiden he loved.

Ragnar was but fifteen years old when he found himself called upon to reign; but just as he outshone all his companions in beauty and intelligence, so he could match the bravest heroes in courage and daring, and generally escaped uninjured from every battle, owing to a magic shirt which his mother had woven for him.

"'I give thee the long shirt, Nowhere sewn, Woven with a loving mind, Of hair——[obscure word]. Wounds will not bleed Nor will edges bite thee In the holy garment; It was consecrated to the gods.'" Ragnar Lodbrok Saga.

Of course the young hero led out his men every summer upon some exciting viking expedition, to test their courage and supply them with plunder; for all the northern heroes proudly boasted that the sword was their god and gold was their goddess.

[Sidenote: Lodgerda.] On one occasion Ragnar landed in a remote part of Norway, and having climbed one of the neighboring mountains, he looked down upon a fruitful valley inhabited by Lodgerda, a warrior maiden who delighted in the chase and all athletic exercises, and ruled over all that part of the country. Ragnar immediately resolved to visit this fair maiden; and, seeing her manifold attractions, he soon fell in love with her and married her. She joined him in all his active pursuits; but in spite of all his entreaties, she would not consent to leave her native land and accompany him home.

After spending three years in Norway with Lodgerda, the young viking became restless and unhappy; and learning that his kingdom had been raided during his prolonged absence, he parted from his wife in hot haste. He pursued his enemies to Whitaby and to Lym-Fiord, winning a signal victory over them in both places, and then reentered his capital of Hledra in triumph, amid the acclamations of his joyful people.

He had not been resting long upon his newly won laurels when a northern seer came to his court, and showed him in a magic mirror the image of Thora, the beautiful daughter of Jarl Herrand in East Gothland. Ragnar, who evidently considered himself freed from all matrimonial bonds by his wife's refusal to accompany him home, eagerly questioned the seer concerning the radiant vision.

This man then revealed to him that Thora, having at her father's request carefully brought up a dragon from an egg hatched by a swan, had at last seen it assume such colossal proportions that it coiled itself all around the house where she dwelt. Here it watched over her with jealous care, allowing none to approach except the servant who brought the princess her meals and who provided an ox daily for the monster's sustenance. Jarl Herrand had offered Thora's hand in marriage, and immense sums of gold, to any hero brave enough to slay this dragon; but none dared venture within reach of its powerful jaws, whence came fire, venom, and noxious vapors.

Ragnar, who as usual thirsted for adventure, immediately made up his mind to go and fight this dragon; and, after donning a peculiar leather and woolen garment, all smeared over with pitch, he attacked and successfully slew the monster.

"'Nor long before In arms I reached the Gothic shore, To work the loathly serpent's death. I slew the reptile of the heath.'" Death Song of Regner Lodbrock (Herbert's tr.).

[Sidenote: Origin of name Lodbrok.] In commemoration of this victory, Ragnar ever after bore also the name of Lodbrok (Leather Hose), although he laid aside this garment as soon as possible, and appeared in royal garb, to receive his prize, the beautiful maiden Thora, whom he had delivered, and whom he now took to be his wife.

"'My prize was Thora; from that fight, 'Mongst warriors am I Lodbrock hight. I pierced the monster's scaly side With steel, the soldier's wealth and pride.'" Death Song of Regner Lodbrock (Herbert's tr.).

Thora gladly accompanied Ragnar back to Hledra, lived happily with him for several years, and bore him two sturdy sons, Agnar and Erik, who soon gave proof of uncommon courage. Such was Ragnar's devotion to his new wife that he even forbore to take part in the usual viking expeditions, to linger by her side. All his love could not long avail to keep her with him, however, for she soon sickened and died, leaving him an inconsolable widower.

To divert him from his great sorrow, his subjects finally proposed that he should resume his former adventurous career, and prevailed upon him to launch his dragon ship once more and to set sail for foreign shores. Some time during the cruise their bread supply failed, and Ragnar steered his vessel into the port of Spangarhede, where he bade his men carry their flour ashore and ask the people in a hut which he descried there to help them knead and bake their bread. The sailors obeyed; but when they entered the lowly hut and saw the filthy old woman who appeared to be its sole occupant, they hesitated to bespeak her aid.

While they were deliberating what they should do, a beautiful girl, poorly clad, but immaculately clean, entered the hut; and the old woman, addressing her as Krake (Crow), bade her see what the strangers wanted. They told her, and admiringly watched her as she deftly fashioned the dough into loaves and slipped them into the hot oven. She bade the sailors watch them closely, lest they should burn; but these men forgot all about their loaves to gaze upon her as she flitted about the house, and the result was that their bread was badly burned.

When they returned to the vessel, Ragnar Lodbrok reproved them severely for their carelessness, until the men, to justify themselves, began describing the maiden Krake in such glowing terms that the chief finally expressed a desire to see her. With the view of testing her wit and intelligence, as well as her beauty, Ragnar sent a message bidding her appear before him neither naked nor clad, neither alone nor unaccompanied, neither fasting nor yet having partaken of any food.

This singular message was punctually delivered, and Krake, who was as clever as beautiful, soon presented herself, with a fish net wound several times around her graceful form, her sheep dog beside her, and the odor of the leek she had bitten into still hovering over her ruby lips.

Ragnar, charmed by her ingenuity no less than by her extreme beauty, then and there proposed to marry her. But Krake, who was not to be so lightly won, declared that he must first prove the depth of his affection by remaining constant to her for one whole year, at the end of which time she would marry him if he still cared to claim her hand.

[Sidenote: Marriage of Ragnar and Krake.] The year passed by; Ragnar returned to renew his suit, and Krake, satisfied that she had inspired no momentary passion, forsook the aged couple and accompanied the great viking to Hledra, where she became queen of Denmark. She bore Ragnar four sons—Ivar, Bjoern, Hvitserk, and Rogenwald,—who from earliest infancy longed to emulate the prowess of their father, Ragnar, and of their step-brothers, Erik and Agnar, who even in their youth were already great vikings.

The Danes, however, had never fully approved of Ragnar's last marriage, and murmured frequently because they were obliged to obey a lowborn queen, and one who bore the vulgar name of Krake. Little by little these murmurs grew louder, and finally they came to Ragnar's ears while he was visiting Eystein, King of Svithiod (Sweden). Craftily his courtiers went to work, and finally prevailed upon him to sue for the princess's hand. He did so, and left Sweden promising to divorce Krake when he reached home, and to return as soon as possible to claim his bride.

As Ragnar entered the palace at Hledra, Krake came, as usual, to meet him. His conscience smote him, and he answered all her tender inquiries so roughly that she suddenly turned and asked him why he had made arrangements to divorce her and take a new wife. Surprised at her knowledge, for he fancied the matter still a secret, Ragnar Lodbrok asked who had told her. Thereupon Krake explained that, feeling anxious about him, she had sent her pet magpies after him, and that the birds had come home and revealed all.

[Sidenote: Aslaug.] This answer, which perhaps gave rise to the common expression, "A little bird told me," greatly astonished Ragnar. He was about to try to excuse himself when Krake, drawing herself up proudly, declared that while she was perfectly ready to depart, it was but just that he should now learn that her extraction was far less humble than he thought. She then proceeded to tell him that her real name was Aslaug, and that she was the daughter of Sigurd Fafnisbane (the slayer of Fafnir) and the beautiful Valkyr Brunhild. Her grandfather, or her foster father, Heimir, to protect her from the foes who would fain have taken her life, had hidden her in his hollow harp when she was but a babe. He had tenderly cared for her until he was treacherously murdered by peasants, who had found her in the hollow harp instead of the treasure they sought there.

"Let be—as ancient stories tell— Full knowledge upon Ragnar fell In lapse of time, that this was she Begot in the felicity Swift-fleeting of the wondrous twain, Who afterwards through change and pain Must live apart to meet in death." WILLIAM MORRIS, The Fostering of Aslaug.

In proof of her assertion, Aslaug then produced a ring and a letter which had belonged to her illustrious mother, and foretold that her next child, a son, would bear the image of a dragon in his right eye, as a sign that he was a grandson of the Dragon Slayer, whose memory was honored by all.

Convinced of the truth of these statements, Ragnar no longer showed any desire to repudiate his wife; but, on the contrary, he besought her to remain with him, and bade his subjects call her Aslaug.

[Sidenote: Sigurd the Snake-eyed.] Shortly after this reconciliation the queen gave birth to a fifth son, who, as she had predicted, came into the world with a peculiar birthmark, to which he owed his name—Sigurd the Snake-eyed. As it was customary for kings to intrust their sons to some noted warrior to foster, this child was given to the celebrated Norman pirate, Hastings, who, as soon as his charge had attained a suitable age, taught him the art of viking warfare, and took him, with his four elder brothers, to raid the coasts of all the southern countries.

Ivar, the eldest of Ragnar and Aslaug's sons, although crippled from birth, and unable to walk a step, was always ready to join in the fray, into the midst of which he was borne on a shield. From this point of vantage he shot arrow after arrow, with fatal accuracy of aim. As he had employed much of his leisure time in learning runes[1] and all kinds of magic arts, he was often of great assistance to his brothers, who generally chose him leader of their expeditions. [Footnote 1: See Guerber's Myths of Northern Lands, p. 39.]

While Ragnar's five sons were engaged in fighting the English at Whitaby to punish them for plundering and setting fire to some Danish ships, Rogenwald fell to rise no more.

[Sidenote: The enchanted cow.] Eystein, the Swedish king, now assembled a large army and declared war against the Danes, because their monarch had failed to return at the appointed time and claim the bride for whom he had sued. Ragnar would fain have gone forth to meet the enemy in person, but Agnar and Erik, his two eldest sons, craved permission to go in his stead. They met the Swedish king, but in spite of their valor they soon succumbed to an attack made by an enchanted cow.

"'We smote with swords; at dawn of day Hundred spearmen gasping lay, Bent beneath the arrowy strife. Egill reft my son of life; Too soon my Agnar's youth was spent, The scabbard thorn his bosom rent.'" Death Song of Regner Lodbrock (Herbert's tr.).

Ragnar was about to sally forth to avenge them, when Hastings and the other sons returned. Then Aslaug prevailed upon her husband to linger by her side and delegate the duty of revenge to his sons. In this battle Ivar made use of his magic to slay Eystein's cow, which could make more havoc than an army of warriors. His brothers, having slain Eystein and raided the country, then sailed off to renew their depredations elsewhere.

This band of vikings visited the coasts of England, Ireland, France, Italy, Greece, and the Greek isles, plundering, murdering, and burning wherever they went. Assisted by Hastings, the brothers took Wiflisburg (probably the Roman Aventicum), and even besieged Luna in Etruria.



As this city was too strongly fortified and too well garrisoned to yield to an assault, the Normans (as all the northern pirates were indiscriminately called in the South) resolved to secure it by stratagem. They therefore pretended that Hastings, their leader, was desperately ill, and induced a bishop to come out of the town to baptize him, so that he might die in the Christian faith. Three days later they again sent a herald to say that Hastings had died, and that his last wish had been to be buried in a Christian church. They therefore asked permission to enter the city unarmed, and bear their leader to his last resting place, promising not only to receive baptism, but also to endow with great wealth the church where Hastings was buried.

[Sidenote: Hastings's stratagem.] The inhabitants of Luna, won by these specious promises, immediately opened their gates, and the funeral procession filed solemnly into the city. But, in the midst of the mass, the coffin lid flew open, and Hastings sprang out, sword in hand, and killed the officiating bishop and priests. This example was followed by his soldiers, who produced the weapons they had concealed upon their persons, and slew all the inhabitants of the town.

These lawless invaders were about to proceed to Romaburg (Rome), and sack that city also, but were deterred by a pilgrim whom they met. He told them that the city was so far away that he had worn out two pairs of iron-soled shoes in coming from thence. The Normans, believing this tale, which was only a stratagem devised by the quick-witted pilgrim, spared the Eternal City, and, reembarking in their vessels, sailed home.

Ragnar Lodbrok, in the mean while, had not been inactive, but had continued his adventurous career, winning numerous battles, and bringing home much plunder to enrich his kingdom and subjects.

"'I have fought battles Fifty and one Which were famous; I have wounded many men.'" Ragnar's Sons' Saga.

The hero's last expedition was against Ella, King of Northumberland. From the very outset the gods seemed to have decided that Ragnar should not prove as successful as usual. The poets tell us that they even sent the Valkyrs (battle maidens of northern mythology) to warn him of his coming defeat, and to tell him of the bliss awaiting him in Valhalla.

"'Regner! tell thy fair-hair'd bride She must slumber at thy side! Tell the brother of thy breast Even for him thy grave hath rest! Tell the raven steed which bore thee When the wild wolf fled before thee, He too with his lord must fall,— There is room in Odin's Hall!'" MRS. HEMANS, Valkyriur Song.

[Sidenote: Death of Ragnar Lodbrok.] In spite of this warning, Ragnar went on. Owing to the magic shirt he wore, he stood unharmed in the midst of the slain long after all his brave followers had perished; and it was only after a whole day's fighting that the enemy finally succeeded in making him a prisoner. Then the followers of Ella vainly besought Ragnar to speak and tell his name. As he remained obstinately silent they finally flung him into a den of snakes, where the reptiles crawled all over him, vainly trying to pierce the magic shirt with their venomous fangs. Ella perceived at last that it was this garment which preserved his captive from death, and had it forcibly removed. Ragnar was then thrust back amid the writhing, hissing snakes, which bit him many times. Now that death was near, the hero's tongue was loosened, not to give vent to weak complaints, but to chant a triumphant death song, in which he recounted his manifold battles, and foretold that his brave sons would avenge his cruel death.

"'Grim stings the adder's forked dart; The vipers nestle in my heart. But soon, I wot, shall Vider's wand, Fixed in Ella's bosom stand. My youthful sons with rage will swell, Listening how their father fell; Those gallant boys in peace unbroken Will never rest, till I be wroken [avenged].'" Death Song of Regner Lodbrock (Herbert's tr.).

This heroic strain has been immortalized by ancient scalds and modern poets. They have all felt the same admiration for the dauntless old viking, who, even amid the pangs of death, gloried in his past achievements, and looked ardently forward to his sojourn in Valhalla. There, he fancied, he would still be able to indulge in warfare, his favorite pastime, and would lead the einheriar (spirits of dead warriors) to their daily battles.

"'Cease, my strain! I hear a voice From realms where martial souls rejoice; I hear the maids of slaughter call, Who bid me hence to Odin's hall: High seated in their blest abodes I soon shall quaff the drink of gods. The hours of life have glided by; I fall, but smiling shall I die.'" Death Song of Regner Lodbrock (Herbert's tr.).

[Sidenote: Founding of London.] Ragnar Lodbrok's sons had reached home, and were peacefully occupied in playing chess, when a messenger came to announce their father's sad end. In their impatience to avenge him they started out without waiting to collect a large force, and in spite of many inauspicious omens. Ella, who expected them, met them with a great host, composed not only of all his own subjects but also of many allies, among whom was King Alfred. In spite of their valor the Normans were completely defeated by the superior forces of the enemy, and only a few of them survived. Ivar and his remaining followers consented to surrender at last, provided that Ella would atone for their losses by giving them as much land as an oxhide would inclose. This seemingly trifling request was granted without demur, nor could the king retract his promise when he saw that the oxhide, cut into tiny strips, inclosed a vast space of land, upon which the Normans now proceeded to construct an almost impregnable fortress, called Lunduna Burg (London).

Here Ivar took up his permanent abode, while his brothers returned to Hledra. Little by little he alienated the affections of Ella's subjects, and won them over to him by rich gifts and artful flattery. When sure of their allegiance, he incited them to revolt against the king; and as he had solemnly sworn never to bear arms against Ella, he kept the letter of his promise by sending for his brothers to act as their leaders.

[Sidenote: Death of Ella.] As a result of this revolution Ella was made prisoner. Then the fierce vikings stretched him out upon one of those rude stone altars which can still be seen in England, and ruthlessly avenged their father's cruel death by cutting the bloody eagle upon him.[1] After Ella's death, Ivar became even more powerful than before, while his younger brothers continued their viking expeditions, took an active part in all the piratical incursions of the time, and even, we are told, besieged Paris in the reign of Louis the Fat. [Footnote 1: See Guerber's Myths of Northern Lands, p. 85.]

Other Danish and Scandinavian vikings were equally venturesome and successful, and many eventually settled in the lands which they had conquered. Among these was the famous Rollo (Rolf Ganger), who, too gigantic in stature to ride horseback, always went on foot. He settled with his followers in a fertile province in northern France, which owes to them its name of Normandy.

The rude independence of the Northmen is well illustrated by their behavior when called to court to do homage for this new fief. Rollo was directed to place both his hands between those of the king, and take his vow of allegiance; so he submitted with indifferent grace. But when he was told that he must conclude the ceremony by kissing the monarch's foot, he obstinately refused to do so. A proxy was finally suggested, and Rollo, calling one of his Berserkers, bade him take his place. The stalwart giant strode forward, but instead of kneeling, he grasped the king's foot and raised it to his lips. As the king did not expect such a jerk, he lost his balance and fell heavily backward. All the Frenchmen present were, of course, scandalized; but the barbarian refused to make any apology, and strode haughtily out of the place, vowing he would never come to court again.

All the northern pirates were, as we have seen, called Normans. They did not all settle in the North, however, for many of them found their way into Italy, and even to Constantinople. There they formed the celebrated Varangian Guard, and faithfully watched over the safety of the emperor. It was probably one of these soldiers who traced the runes upon the stone lion which was subsequently transferred to Venice, where it now adorns the Piazza of St. Mark's.