Sigurd's infant son was slain at the same time, and poor Gudrun mourned over her dead in silent, tearless grief; while Brunhild laughed aloud, thereby incurring the wrath of Gunnar, who repented, too late, that he had not taken measures to avert the dastardly crime.

The grief of the Niblungs found expression in the public funeral celebration which was shortly held. A mighty pyre was erected, to which were brought precious hangings, fresh flowers, and glittering arms, as was the custom for the burial of a prince; and as these sad preparations took shape, Gudrun was the object of tender solicitude from the women, who, fearing lest her heart would break, tried to open the flood-gate of her tears by recounting the bitterest sorrows they had known, one telling of how she too had lost all she held dear. But these attempts to make her weep were utterly vain, until at length they laid her husband's head in her lap, bidding her kiss him as if he were still alive; then her tears began to flow in torrents.

The reaction soon set in for Brunhild also; her resentment was all forgotten when she saw the body of Sigurd laid on the pyre, arrayed as if for battle in burnished armour, with the Helmet of Dread at his head, and accompanied by his steed, which was to be burned with him, together with several of his faithful servants who would not survive his loss. She withdrew to her apartment, and after distributing her possessions among her handmaidens, she donned her richest array, and stabbed herself as she lay stretched upon her bed.

The tidings soon reached Gunnar, who came with all haste to his wife and just in time to receive her dying injunction to lay her beside the hero she loved, with the glittering, unsheathed sword between them, as it had lain when he had wooed her by proxy. When she had breathed her last, these wishes were faithfully executed, and her body was burned with Sigurd's amid the lamentations of all the Niblungs.

In Richard Wagner's story of "The Ring" Brunhild's end is more picturesque. Mounted on her steed, as when she led the battle-maidens at the command of Odin, she rode into the flames which leaped to heaven from the great funeral pyre, and passed for ever from the sight of men.

"They are gone—the lovely, the mighty, the hope of the ancient Earth: It shall labour and bear the burden as before that day of their birth: It shall groan in its blind abiding for the day that Sigurd hath sped, And the hour that Brynhild hath hastened, and the dawn that waketh the dead: It shall yearn, and be oft-times holpen, and forget their deeds no more, Till the new sun beams on Baldur and the happy sea-less shore."

The death scene of Sigurd (Siegfried) is far more powerful in the Nibelungenlied. In the Teutonic version his treacherous assailant lures him from a hunting party in the forest to quench his thirst at a brook, where he thrusts him through the back with a spear. His body was thence borne home by the hunters and laid at his wife's feet.



The Flight of Gudrun

Gudrun, still inconsolable, and loathing the kindred who had treacherously robbed her of all joy in life, fled from her father's house and took refuge with Elf, Sigurd's foster father, who, after the death of Hiordis, had married Thora, the daughter of King Hakon. The two women became great friends, and here Gudrun tarried several years, employing herself in embroidering upon tapestry the great deeds of Sigurd, and watching over her little daughter Swanhild, whose bright eyes reminded her vividly of the husband whom she had lost.



Atli, King of the Huns

In the meantime, Atli, Brunhild's brother, who was now King of the Huns, had sent to Gunnar to demand atonement for his sister's death; and to satisfy his claims Gunnar had promised that when her years of widowhood had been accomplished he would give him Gudrun's hand in marriage. Time passed, and Atli clamoured for the fulfilment of his promise, wherefore the Niblung brothers, with their mother Grimhild, went to seek the long-absent princess, and by the aid of the magic potion administered by Grimhild they succeeded in persuading Gudrun to leave little Swanhild in Denmark and to become Atli's wife in the land of the Huns.

Nevertheless, Gudrun secretly detested her husband, whose avaricious tendencies were extremely repugnant to her; and even the birth of two sons, Erp and Eitel, did not console her for the death of her loved ones and the absence of Swanhild. Her thoughts were continually of the past, and she often spoke of it, little suspecting that her descriptions of the wealth of the Niblungs had excited Atli's greed, and that he was secretly planning some pretext for seizing it.

Atli at last decided to send Knefrud or Wingi, one of his servants, to invite the Niblung princes to visit his court, intending to slay them when he should have them in his power; but Gudrun, fathoming this design, sent a rune message to her brothers, together with the ring Andvaranaut, around which she had twined a wolf's hair. On the way, however, the messenger partly effaced the runes, thus changing their meaning; and when he appeared before the Niblungs, Gunnar accepted the invitation, in spite of Hoegni's and Grimhild's warnings, and an ominous dream of Glaumvor, his second wife.



Burial of the Niblung Treasure

Before departing, however, Gunnar was prevailed upon to bury secretly the great Niblung hoard in the Rhine, and he sank it in a deep hole in the bed of the river, the position of which was known to the royal brothers only, who took a solemn oath never to reveal it.

"Down then and whirling outward the ruddy Gold fell forth, As a flame in the dim grey morning, flashed out a kingdom's worth; Then the waters roared above it, the wan water and the foam Flew up o'er the face of the rock-wall as the tinkling Gold fell home, Unheard, unseen for ever, a wonder and a tale, Till the last of earthly singers from the sons of men shall fail."



The Treachery of Atli

In martial array the royal band then rode out of the city of the Niblungs, which they were never again to see, and after many adventures they entered the land of the Huns, and arrived at Atli's hall, where, finding that they had been foully entrapped, they slew the traitor Knefrud, and prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible.

Gudrun hastened to meet them with tender embraces, and, seeing that they must fight, she grasped a weapon and loyally aided them in the terrible massacre which ensued. After the first onslaught, Gunnar kept up the spirits of his followers by playing on his harp, which he laid aside only when the assaults were renewed. Thrice the brave Niblungs resisted the assault of the Huns, until all save Gunnar and Hoegni had perished, and the king and his brother, wounded, faint, and weary, fell into the hands of their foes, who cast them, securely bound, into a dungeon to await death.

Atli had prudently abstained from taking any active part in the fight, and he now had his brothers-in-law brought in turn before him, promising them freedom if they would reveal the hiding-place of the golden hoard; but they proudly kept silence, and it was only after much torture that Gunnar spake, saying that he had sworn a solemn oath never to reveal the secret as long as Hoegni lived. At the same time he declared that he would believe his brother dead only when his heart was brought to him on a platter.

"With a dreadful voice cried Gunnar: 'O fool, hast thou heard it told Who won the Treasure aforetime and the ruddy rings of the Gold? It was Sigurd, child of the Volsungs, the best sprung forth from the best: He rode from the North and the mountains, and became my summer guest, My friend and my brother sworn: he rode the Wavering Fire, And won me the Queen of Glory and accomplished my desire; The praise of the world he was, the hope of the biders in wrong, The help of the lowly people, the hammer of the strong: Ah, oft in the world, henceforward, shall the tale be told of the deed, And I, e'en I, will tell it in the day of the Niblungs' Need: For I sat night-long in my armour, and when light was wide o'er the land I slaughtered Sigurd my brother, and looked on the work of mine hand. And now, O mighty Atli, I have seen the Niblung's wreck, And the feet of the faint-heart dastard have trodden Gunnar's neck; And if all be little enough, and the Gods begrudge me rest, Let me see the heart of Hoegni cut quick from his living breast, And laid on the dish before me: and then shall I tell of the Gold, And become thy servant, Atli, and my life at thy pleasure hold.'"

Urged by greed, Atli gave immediate orders that Hoegni's heart should be brought; but his servants, fearing to lay hands on such a grim warrior, slew the cowardly scullion Hialli. The trembling heart of this poor wretch called forth contemptuous words from Gunnar, who declared that such a timorous organ could never have belonged to his fearless brother. Atli again issued angry commands, and this time the unquivering heart of Hoegni was produced, whereupon Gunnar, turning to the monarch, solemnly swore that since the secret now rested with him alone it would never be revealed.



The Last of the Niblungs

Livid with anger, the king bade his servants throw Gunnar, with hands bound, into a den of venomous snakes; but this did not daunt the reckless Niblung, and, his harp having been flung after him in derision, he calmly sat in the pit, harping with his toes, and lulling to sleep all the reptiles save one only. It was said that Atli's mother had taken the form of this snake, and that she it was who now bit him in the side, and silenced his triumphant song for ever.

To celebrate his triumph, Atli now ordered a great feast, commanding Gudrun to be present to wait upon him. At this banquet he ate and drank heartily, little suspecting that his wife had slain both his sons, and had served up their roasted hearts and their blood mixed with wine in cups made of their skulls. After a time the king and his guests became intoxicated, when Gudrun, according to one version of the story, set fire to the palace, and as the drunken men were aroused, too late to escape, she revealed what she had done, and first stabbing her husband, she calmly perished in the flames with the Huns. Another version relates, however, that she murdered Atli with Sigurd's sword, and having placed his body on a ship, which she sent adrift, she cast herself into the sea and was drowned.

"She spread out her arms as she spake it, and away from the earth she leapt And cut off her tide of returning: for the sea-waves over her swept, And their will is her will henceforward, and who knoweth the deeps of the sea, And the wealth of the bed of Gudrun, and the days that yet shall be?"

According to a third and very different version, Gudrun was not drowned, but was borne by the waves to the land where Jonakur was king. There she became his wife, and the mother of three sons, Soerli, Hamdir, and Erp. She recovered possession, moreover, of her beloved daughter Swanhild, who, in the meantime, had grown into a beautiful maiden of marriageable age.



Swanhild

Swanhild became affianced to Ermenrich, King of Gothland, who sent his son, Randwer, and one of his servants, Sibich, to escort the bride to his kingdom. Sibich was a traitor, and as part of a plan to compass the death of the royal family that he might claim the kingdom, he accused Randwer of having tried to win his young stepmother's affections. This accusation so roused the anger of Ermenrich that he ordered his son to be hanged, and Swanhild to be trampled to death under the feet of wild horses. The beauty of this daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun was such, however, that even the wild steeds could not be induced to harm her until she had been hidden from their sight under a great blanket, when they trod her to death under their cruel hoofs.

Upon learning the fate of her beloved daughter, Gudrun called her three sons to her side, and girding them with armour and weapons against which nothing but stone could prevail, she bade them depart and avenge their murdered sister, after which she died of grief, and was burned on a great pyre.

The three youths, Soerli, Hamdir, and Erp, proceeded to Ermenrich's kingdom, but ere they met their foes, the two eldest, deeming Erp too young to assist them, taunted him with his small size, and finally slew him. Soerli and Hamdir then attacked Ermenrich, cut off his hands and feet, and would have slain him but for a one-eyed stranger who suddenly appeared and bade the bystanders throw stones at the young men. His orders were immediately carried out, and Soerli and Hamdir soon fell slain under the shower of stones, which, as we have seen, alone had power to injure them.

"Ye have heard of Sigurd aforetime, how the foes of God he slew; How forth from the darksome desert the Gold of Waters he drew; How he wakened Love on the Mountain, and wakened Brynhild the Bright, And dwelt upon Earth for a season, and shone in all men's sight. Ye have heard of the Cloudy People, and the dimming of the day, And the latter world's confusion, and Sigurd gone away; Now ye know of the Need of the Niblungs and the end of broken troth, All the death of kings and of kindreds and the Sorrow of Odin the Goth."



Interpretation of the Saga

This story of the Volsungs is supposed by some authorities to be a series of sun myths, in which Sigi, Rerir, Volsung, Sigmund, and Sigurd in turn personify the glowing orb of day. They are all armed with invincible swords, the sunbeams, and all travel through the world fighting against their foes, the demons of cold and darkness. Sigurd, like Balder, is beloved of all; he marries Brunhild, the dawn maiden, whom he finds in the midst of flames, the flush of morn, and parts from her only to find her again when his career is ended. His body is burned on the funeral pyre, which, like Balder's, represents either the setting sun or the last gleam of summer, of which he too is a type. The slaying of Fafnir symbolises the destruction of the demon of cold or darkness, who has stolen the golden hoard of summer or the yellow rays of the sun.

According to other authorities, this Saga is based upon history. Atli is the cruel Attila, the "Scourge of God," while Gunnar is Gundicarius, a Burgundian monarch, whose kingdom was destroyed by the Huns, and who was slain with his brothers in 451. Gudrun is the Burgundian princess Ildico, who slew her husband on her wedding-night, as has already been related, using the glittering blade which had once belonged to the sun-god to avenge her murdered kinsmen.



CHAPTER XXVII: THE STORY OF FRITHIOF

Bishop Tegner

Probably no writer of the nineteenth century did so much to awaken interest in the literary treasures of Scandinavia as Bishop Esaias Tegner, whom a Swedish author characterised as, "that mighty Genie who organises even disorder."

Tegner's "Frithiof Saga" has been translated once at least into every European tongue, and some twenty 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, drew similar praise from Longfellow, who considered it to be one of the most remarkable productions of his century.

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 northern 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 neighbouring islands.



Birth of Viking

Thus it happened that Haloge's grandson, Viking, was born upon the island of Bornholm, in the Baltic Sea, where he dwelt until he was fifteen, and where he became the biggest and strongest man of his time. Rumours of his valour finally reached Hunvor, a Swedish princess, who was oppressed by the attentions of a gigantic suitor whom none dared drive away, and she 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 a giant like the suitor of Hunvor. A "holmgang," as a duel was termed in the North, ensued as soon as the hero arrived upon the scene, 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 for his promised bride, 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 kindred of the giant he had slain, who were adepts in magic, and they brought upon him innumerable perils by land and sea.

Aided and abetted by his bosom friend, Halfdan, Viking escaped every danger, slew many of his foes, and, after rescuing Hunvor, whom, in the meantime, 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 wife Ingeborg, Hunvor's attendant.

The saga now describes the long, peaceful winters, when the warriors feasted and listened to the tales of 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 piratical expeditions.

"Then the Scald took his harp and sang, And loud through the music rang The sound of that shining word; And the harp-strings a clangour made, As if they were struck with the blade Of a sword.

"And the Berserks round about Broke forth into a shout That made the rafters ring: They smote with their fists on the board, And shouted, 'Long live the Sword, And the King!'"

Longfellow's Saga of King Olaf.

In the old story the scalds relate with great gusto every phase of attack and defence during cruise and raid, and describe every blow given and received, dwelling with satisfaction upon the carnage and lurid flames which envelop both enemies and ships in common ruin. A fierce fight is often an earnest of future friendship, however, and we are told that Halfdan and Viking, having failed to conquer Njorfe, a foeman of mettle, sheathed their swords after a most obstinate struggle, and accepted their enemy as a third link in their close bond of friendship.

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

Njorfe, King of Uplands, in Norway, also rejoiced in a family of 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.



The Game of Ball

Notwithstanding this smouldering animosity, the 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 Njorfe's sons struck one of his opponents 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 ground alone; and, meeting his assailant there, he slew him.



The Blood Feud

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, 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 should be over.

The young men obeyed; but Njorfe's sons were determined to avenge their brother, and although they had no boats to convey them over the lake, they made use of a conjurer's art to bring about a great frost. Accompanied by many armed men, they then stole noiselessly over the ice to attack Thorsten and his brothers, and a terrible carnage ensued. Only two of the attacking party managed to escape, but they left, as they fancied, all their foes among the dead.

Then came Viking to bury his sons, and he found that two of them, Thorsten and Thorer, were still alive; whereupon he secretly conveyed them to a cellar beneath his dwelling, and in due time they recovered from their wounds.

Njorfe's two surviving sons soon discovered by magic arts that their opponents were not dead, and they 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 round Thorsten embarked on a piratical excursion, in the course of which he encountered Jokul, Njorfe's eldest son, who, meanwhile, had taken forcible possession of the kingdom of Sogn, having killed the king, banished his heir, Bele, and changed his beautiful daughter, Ingeborg, into the similitude 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 only saved from the waves by the seeming witch, whom he promised to marry in gratitude for her good offices. Thorsten, advised by Ingeborg, now went in search of Bele, whom he found and replaced upon his hereditary throne, having sworn eternal friendship with him. After this, the baleful spell was removed, and Ingeborg, now revealed in her native beauty, was united to Thorsten, and dwelt with him at Framnaes.



Thorsten and Bele

Every spring Thorsten and Bele set out together in their ships; and, upon one of these expeditions, they joined forces with Angantyr, a foe whose mettle they had duly tested, and 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 a 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, who waited outside, heard the sound of frightful blows given and returned, 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, but often would he say, as he showed it, "I trembled but once in my life, and 'twas when I seized it!"



Birth of Frithiof and Ingeborg

Thus owner of the three greatest treasures of the North, Thorsten returned home to Framnaes, where Ingeborg bore him a fine boy, Frithiof, while two sons, Halfdan and Helge, were born to Bele. The lads played together, and were already well grown when Ingeborg, Bele's little daughter, was born, and some time later the child was entrusted to the care of Hilding, who was already Frithiof's foster father, as Thorsten's frequent absences made it difficult for him to undertake the training of his boy.

"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 the sweetest traits of character and loveliness. Both 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 a subject of the king, and therefore no mate for his only daughter.

"To Odin, in his star-lit sky, Ascends her titled ancestry; But Thorsten's son art thou; give way! For 'like thrives best with like,' they say."

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).



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 more 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 sombre and taciturn disposition, and inclined to the life of a priest, and Halfdan was of a weak, effeminate nature, and noted for his love of pleasure rather than of war and the chase. Frithiof, who was present, and stood beside them, was the object of many admiring glances from the throng.

"But close behind them Frithiof goes, Wrapp'd in his mantle blue; His height a whole head taller rose Than that of both the two.

He stands between the brothers there— As though the ripe day stood Atween young morning rosy-fair, And night within the wood."

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

After giving his last instructions and counsel to his sons, and speaking kindly to Frithiof, for whom he entertained a warm regard, 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 over the waters of the narrow firth which would flow between them, that so they might not be sundered even in death.



Helge and Halfdan

These instructions were piously carried out when, shortly after, the aged companions breathed their last; and the great barrows having been erected, the brothers, Helge and Halfdan, began to rule their kingdom, while Frithiof, their former playmate, withdrew to his own place at Framnaes, a fertile homestead, lying in a snug valley enclosed by the towering mountains and the waters of the ever-changing firth.

"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 hill-sides 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 treasures of his hero sire, the sword Angurvadel, the Voelund ring, and the matchless dragon ship Ellida, Frithiof was unhappy, because he could no longer see the fair Ingeborg daily. All his former spirits revived, however, when in the spring, at his invitation, both kings came to visit him, together with their fair sister, and once again they spent long hours in cheerful companionship. As they were thus constantly thrown together, Frithiof found opportunity to make known to Ingeborg his deep affection, and he 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.).



Frithiof's Suit

When the visit was ended 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 set free from its moorings and it swooped like an eagle over to the shore near Balder's shrine, where the royal brothers were seated in state on Bele's tomb to listen to the petitions of their subjects. Straightway Frithiof 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.

"No king was my sire, not a jarl, ev'n—'tis true; Yet Scald-songs his mem'ry and exploits renew; The Rune-stones will tell On high-vaulted cairn what my race hath done well.

"With ease could I win me both empire and land;— But rather I stay on my forefathers' strand; While arms I can wield— Both poverty's hut and king's palace I'll shield.

"On Bele's round barrow we stand; each word In the dark deeps beneath us he hears and has heard; With Frithiof pleadeth The old Chief in his cairn: think! your answer thought needeth."

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

Then he went on to promise lifelong fealty and the service of his strong right arm in exchange for the boon he craved.

As Frithiof ceased King Helge rose, and regarding the young man scornfully, he said: "Our sister is not for a peasant's son; proud chiefs of the Northland may dispute for her hand, but not thou. As for thy arrogant proffer, know that I can protect my kingdom. Yet if thou wouldst be my man, place in my household mayst thou have."

Enraged at the insult thus publicly offered, Frithiof drew his invincible sword; but, remembering that he stood on a consecrated spot, he struck only at the royal shield, which fell in two pieces clashing to the ground. Then striding back to his ship in sullen silence, he embarked and sailed away.

"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.).



Sigurd Ring a Suitor

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 returning answer to this royal suitor, Helge consulted the Vala, or prophetess, and the priests, who all declared that the omens were not in favour of the marriage. Upon this Helge assembled his people to hear the word which the messengers were to carry to their master, but unfortunately King Halfdan gave way to his waggish humour, and made scoffing reference to the advanced age of the royal suitor. These impolitic words were reported to King Ring, and so offended him that he immediately collected an army and prepared to march against the Kings of Sogn to avenge the insult with his sword. When the rumour of his approach reached the cowardly brothers they were terrified, and fearing to encounter the foe unaided, they sent Hilding to Frithiof to implore his help.

Hilding found Frithiof playing chess with 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, griefs 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.).

While the old man was speaking Frithiof continued to play, ever and anon interjecting an enigmatical reference to the game, until at this point he said:

"Bjoern; thou in vain my queen pursuest, She from childhood dearest, truest! She's my game's most darling piece, and Come what will—I'll save my queen!"

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

Hilding did not understand such mode of answering, and at length rebuked Frithiof for his indifference. Then Frithiof rose, and pressing kindly the old man's hand, he bade him tell the kings that he was too deeply offended to listen to their appeal.

Helge and Halfdan, thus forced to fight without their bravest leader, preferred to make a treaty with Sigurd Ring, and they agreed to give him not only their sister Ingeborg, but also a yearly tribute.



At Balder's Shrine

While they were thus engaged at Sogn Sound, Frithiof hastened to Balder's temple, to which Ingeborg had been sent for security, and where, as Hilding had declared, he found her 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 forbear to console her; and, forgetting all else, he spoke to her and comforted her, quieting all her apprehensions of the gods' anger by assuring her that Balder, the good, must view their innocent passion with approving eyes, for love so pure as theirs could defile no sanctuary; and they ended by plighting their troth before the shrine of Balder.

"'Thou whisp'rest "Balder,"—His wrath fearest;— That gentle god all anger flies. We worship here a Lover, dearest! Our hearts' love is his sacrifice; That god whose brow beams sunshine-splendour, Whose faith lasts through eternity,— Was not his love to beauteous Nanna As pure, as warm, as mine to thee?

"'His image see!—himself broods o'er it— How mild, how kind, his bright eyes move! An off'ring bear I here before it, A warm heart full of purest love. Come, kneel with me! no altar incense To Balder's soul more grateful is Than two hearts, vowing in his presence A mutual faith as true as his!'"

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

Reassured by this reasoning, which received added strength from the voice which spoke loudly from her own heart, Ingeborg could not refuse to see and converse with Frithiof. During the kings' absence the young lovers met every day, and they exchanged love-tokens, Frithiof giving to Ingeborg Voelund's arm-ring, which she solemnly promised to send back to her lover should she be compelled to break her promise to live for him alone. Frithiof lingered at Framnaes until the kings' return, when, yielding to the fond entreaties 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 stands and strikes His glitt'ring shield within thy boundaries; Thy realm, King Helge, is in jeopardy: But give thy sister, and I'll lend mine arm Thy guard in battle. It may stead thee well. Come! let this grudge between us be forgotten, Unwilling bear I such 'gainst Ing'borg's brother. Be counsell'd, King! be just! and save at once Thy golden crown and thy fair sister's heart! Here is my hand: by Asa-Thor I swear Never again 'tis stretch'd in reconcilement!'"

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).



Frithiof Banished

But although this offer was received with acclamation by the assembled warriors, Helge scornfully demanded of Frithiof whether he had spoken with Ingeborg and so defiled the temple of Balder.

A shout of "Say nay, Frithiof! say nay!" broke from the ring of warriors, but he proudly answered: "I would not lie to gain Valhalla. I have spoken to thy sister, Helge, yet have I not broken Balder's peace."

A murmur of horror passed through the ranks at this avowal, and when the harsh voice of Helge was raised in judgment, none was there to gainsay the justice of the sentence.

This apparently was not a harsh one, but Helge well knew that it meant death, and he so intended it.

Far westward lay the Orkney Islands, ruled by Jarl Angantyr, whose yearly tribute to Bele was withheld now that the old king lay in his cairn. Hard-fisted he was said to be, and heavy of hand, and to Frithiof was given the task of demanding the tribute face to face.

Before he sailed upon the judgment-quest, however, he once more sought Ingeborg, and implored her to elope with him to a home in the sunny South, where her happiness should be his law, and where she should rule over his subjects as his honoured wife. But 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.

The fiery spirit of Frithiof was at first impatient under this disappointment of his hopes, but in the end his noble nature conquered, and after a heartrending parting scene, he embarked upon Ellida, and sorrowfully sailed out of the harbour, while Ingeborg, through a mist of tears, watched the sail as it faded and disappeared in the distance.

The vessel was barely out of sight when Helge sent for two witches named Heid and Ham, bidding them by incantations to stir up a tempest at sea in which it would be impossible for even the god-given vessel Ellida to live, that so all on board should perish. The witches immediately complied; and with Helge's aid they soon stirred up a storm the fury of which is 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.).

"Then the storm unfetter'd wingeth Wild his course; in Ocean's foam Now he dips him, now up-swingeth, Whirling toward the God's own home: Rides each Horror-spirit, warning, High upon the topmost wave— Up from out the white, vast, yawning, Bottomless, unfathom'd grave."

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

The Tempest

Unfrighted by tossing waves and whistling blasts, Frithiof sang a cheery song to reassure his terrified crew; but when the peril grew so great that his exhausted followers gave themselves up for lost, he bethought him of tribute to the goddess Ran, who ever requires gold of them who would rest in peace under the ocean wave. Taking his armlet, he hewed it with his sword and made fair division among his men.

"Who goes empty-handed Down to sea-blue Ran? Cold her kisses strike, and Fleeting her embrace is."

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

He then bade Bjoern hold the rudder, and himself climbed to the mast-top to view the horizon. While perched there he descried a whale, upon which the two witches were riding the storm. Speaking to his good ship, which was gifted with power of understanding and could obey his commands, he now ran down both whale and witches, and the sea was reddened with their blood. At the same instant the wind fell, the waves ceased to threaten, and fair weather soon smiled again upon the seas.

Exhausted by their previous superhuman efforts and by the labour of baling 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.

"Yet more wearied than their Dragon Totter Frithiof's gallant men; Though each leans upon his weapon, Scarcely upright stand they then. Bjoern, on pow'rful shoulder, dareth Four to carry to the land; Frithiof, all alone, eight beareth,— Sets them so round the upblaz'd brand.

'Nay! ye white-fac'd, shame not! Waves are mighty Vikings; Hard's the unequal struggle— Ocean's maids our foes. See! there comes the mead-horn, Wand'ring on bright gold-foot; Shipmates! cold limbs warm,—and Here's to Ingeborg!'"

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephen's tr.).

The arrival of Frithiof and his men, and their mode of landing, had been noted by the watchman of Angantyr, 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 from 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.



Atle's Challenge

Although still greatly exhausted, Frithiof immediately accepted Atle's challenge, and, after a sharp encounter with swords, in which Angurvadel was triumphant, the two champions grappled in deadly embrace. Widely is that wrestling-match renowned in the North, and well matched were the heroes, but in the end Frithiof 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 the 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.

"Then storm they, nothing yielded, Two autumn-billows like! And oft, with steel round shielded, Their jarring breasts fierce strike.

"All like two bears they wrestle, On hills of snow; and draw And strain, each like an eagle On the angry sea at war. The root-fast rock resisted Full hardly them between And green iron oaks down-twisted With lesser pulls have been.

"From each broad brow sweat rushes; Their bosoms coldly heave; And stones and mounds and bushes Dints hundred-fold receive."

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

Together the appeased warriors now wended their way to Angantyr's hall, which Frithiof found to be far different from the rude dwellings of his native land. The walls were covered with leather richly decorated with gilt designs. The chimney-piece was of marble, and glass panes were in the window-frames. A soft light was diffused from many candles burning in silver branches, and the tables groaned under the most luxurious fare.

High in a silver chair sat the jarl, clad in a coat of golden mail, over which was flung a rich mantle bordered with ermine, but when Frithiof entered he strode from his seat with cordial hand outstretched. "Full many a horn have I emptied with my old friend Thorsten," said he, "and his brave son is equally welcome at my board."

Nothing loth, Frithiof seated himself beside his host, and after he had eaten and drunk he recounted his adventures upon land and sea.

At last, however, Frithiof made known his errand, whereupon 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's son, leaving him at liberty to dispose of it as he pleased. Meantime, since the season was unpropitious for the return journey, and storms continually swept the sea, the king invited Frithiof to tarry with him over the winter; and it was only when the gentle spring breezes were blowing once more that he at last allowed him to depart.



Frithiof's Home-coming

Taking leave of his kind host, Frithiof set sail, and wafted by favourable winds, the hero, after six days, came in sight of Framnaes, and found that his home had been reduced to a shapeless heap of ashes by Helge's orders. Sadly Frithiof strode over the ravaged site of his childhood's home, and as he viewed the desolate scene his heart burned within him. The ruins were not entirely deserted, however, and suddenly Frithiof felt the cold nozzle of his hound thrust into his hand. A few moments later his favourite steed bounded to his master's side, and the faithful creatures were well-nigh frantic with delight. Then came Hilding to greet him with the information that Ingeborg was now the wife of Sigurd Ring. When Frithiof heard this he flew into a Berserker rage, and bade his men scuttle the vessels in the harbour, while he strode to the temple in search of Helge.

The king stood crowned amid a circle of priests, some of whom brandished flaming pine-knots, while all grasped a sacrificial flint knife. Suddenly there was a clatter of arms and in burst Frithiof, his brow dark as autumn storms. Helge's face went pale as he confronted the angry hero, for he knew what his coming presaged. "Take thy tribute, King," said Frithiof, and with the words, he took the purse from his girdle and flung it in Helge's face with such force that blood gushed from his mouth and he fell swooning at Balder's feet.

The silver-bearded priests advanced to the scene of violence, but Frithiof motioned them back, and his looks were so threatening that they durst not disobey.

Then his eye fell upon the arm-ring which he had given to Ingeborg and which Helge had placed upon the arm of Balder, and striding up to the wooden image he said: "Pardon, great Balder, not for thee was the ring wrested from Voelund's tomb!" Then he seized the ring, but strongly as he tugged it would not come apart. At last he put forth all his strength, and with a sudden jerk he recovered the ring, and at the same time the image of the god fell prone across the altar fire. The next moment it was enveloped in flames, and before aught could be done the whole temple was wreathed in fire and smoke.

"All, all's lost! From half-burned hall Th' fire-red cock up-swingeth!— Sits on the roof, and, with shrilly call Flutt'ring, his free course wingeth."

Tegner's Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

Frithiof, horror-stricken at the sacrilege which he had involuntarily occasioned, vainly tried to extinguish the flames and save the costly sanctuary, but finding his efforts unavailing he escaped to his ship and resolved upon the weary life of an outcast and exile.

"Thou may'st not rest thee, Thou still must haste thee, Ellida!—out Th' wide world about. Yes! rock on! roaming Mid froth salt-foaming My Dragon good!

"Thou billow bold Befriend me!—Never I'll from thee sever!— My father's Mound Dull stands, fast-bound, And self-same surges Chaunt changeless dirges; But blue shall mine Through foam-flow'rs shine, 'Mid tempests swimming, And storms thick dimming, And draw yet mo Down, down, below.— My Life-Home given, Thou shalt, far-driven! My Barrow be— Thou free broad Sea!"

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).



Frithiof an Exile

Helge started in pursuit with ten great dragon-ships, but these had barely got under way when they began to sink, and Bjoern said with a laugh, "What Ran enfolds I trust she will keep." Even King Helge was with difficulty got ashore, and the survivors were forced to stand 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.

After thus parting from his native land, Frithiof roved the sea as a pirate, or viking. His 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 to plunder 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 at last to the sunny isles of Greece, whither he would fain have carried Ingeborg as his bride; and the sights called up such a flood of sad memories that he was well-nigh overwhelmed with longing for his beloved and for his native land.



At the Court of Sigurd Ring

Three years had passed away and Frithiof determined to return northward and visit Sigurd Ring's court. When he announced his purpose to Bjoern, his faithful companion reproached him for his rashness in thinking to journey alone, but Frithiof would not be turned from his purpose, saying: "I am never alone while Angurvadel hangs at my side." Steering Ellida up the Vik (the main part of the Christiania Fiord), he entrusted her to Bjoern's care, and, enveloped in a bear-hide, which he wore as a disguise, he set out on foot alone for the court of Sigurd Ring, arriving there as the Yuletide festivities were in progress. As if nothing more than an aged beggar, Frithiof sat down upon the bench near the door, where he quickly became the butt of the courtiers' rough jokes. When one of his tormentors, however, approached too closely, the seeming beggar caught him in a powerful grasp and swung him high above his head.

Terrified by this exhibition of superhuman strength, the courtiers quickly withdrew from the dangerous vicinity, while Sigurd Ring, whose attention was attracted by the commotion, sternly bade the stranger-guest approach and tell who thus dared to break the peace in his royal hall.

Frithiof answered evasively that he was fostered in penitence, that he inherited want, and that he came from the wolf; as to his name, this did not matter. The king, as was the courteous custom, did not press him further, but invited him to take a seat beside him and the queen, and to share his good cheer. "But first," said he, "let fall the clumsy covering which veils, if I mistake not, a proper form."

Frithiof gladly accepted the invitation thus cordially given, and when the hairy hide fell from off his head and shoulders, he stood disclosed in the pride of youth, much to the surprise of the assembled warriors.

But although his appearance marked him as of no common race, none of the courtiers recognised him. It was different, however, with Ingeborg. Had any curious eye been upon her at that moment her changing colour and the quick heaving of her breast would have revealed her deep emotion.

"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!"

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

Frithiof had barely taken his seat at the board when with flourish of trumpets a great boar was brought in and placed before the king. In accordance with the Yule-tide custom of those days the old monarch rose, and touching the head of the animal, he uttered a vow that with the help of Frey, Odin, and Thor, he would conquer the bold champion Frithiof. The next moment Frithiof, too, was upon his feet, and dashing his sword upon the great wooden bench he declared that Frithiof was his kinsman and he also would vow that though all the world withstood, no harm should reach the hero while he had power to wield his sword.

At this unexpected interruption the warriors had risen quickly from the oaken benches, but Sigurd Ring smiled indulgently at the young man's vehemence and said: "Friend, thy words are overbold, but never yet was guest restrained from uttering his thoughts in this kingly hall." Then he turned to Ingeborg and bade her fill to the brim with her choicest mead a huge horn, richly decorated, which stood in front of her, and present it to the guest. The queen obeyed with downcast eyes, and the trembling of her hand caused the liquid to overflow. Two ordinary men could hardly have drained the mighty draught, but Frithiof raised it to his lips, and when he removed the horn not one drop of the mead remained.

Ere the banquet was ended Sigurd Ring invited the youthful stranger to remain at his court until the return of spring, and accepting the proffered hospitality, Frithiof became the constant companion of the royal couple, whom he accompanied upon all occasions.

One day Sigurd Ring set out to a banquet with Ingeborg. They travelled in a sleigh, while Frithiof, with steel-shod feet, sped gracefully by their side, cutting many mystic characters in the ice. Their way lay over a dangerous portion of the frozen surface, and Frithiof warned the king that it would be prudent to avoid this. He would not listen to the counsel, however, and suddenly the sleigh sank in a deep fissure, which threatened to engulph it with the king and queen. But like falcon descending upon its quarry, Frithiof was at their side in a moment, and without apparent effort he dragged the steed and its burden on to the firm ice. "In good sooth," said Ring, "Frithiof himself could not have done better."

The long winter came to an end, and in the early spring the king and queen arranged a hunting-party in which all the court were to take part. During the progress of the chase the advancing years of Sigurd Ring made it impossible for him to keep up with the eager hunt, and thus it happened that he dropped behind, until at length he was left with Frithiof as his sole companion. They rode slowly together until they reached a pleasant dell which invited the weary king to repose, and he declared that he would lie down for a season to rest.

"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.).



Frithiof's Loyalty

While the aged king was thus reposing, a bird sang to Frithiof from a tree near by, bidding him take advantage of his host's powerlessness to slay him, and recover the bride of whom he had been unfairly deprived. But although Frithiof's hot young heart clamoured for his beloved, he utterly refused to entertain the dastardly suggestion, but, fearing lest he should be overcome by temptation, despite his horror at the thought, he impulsively flung his sword far from him into a neighbouring thicket.

A few moments later Sigurd Ring opened his eyes, and informed Frithiof that he had only feigned sleep; he told him also that having recognised him from the first, he had tested him in many ways, and had found his honour equal to his courage. Old age had now overtaken him and he felt that death was drawing nigh. In but a short time, therefore, Frithiof might hope to realise his dearest hope, and Sigurd Ring told him that he would die happy if he would stay by him until the end.

A revulsion of feeling had, however, overtaken Frithiof, and he told the aged king that he felt that Ingeborg could never be his, because of the wrath of Balder. Too long had he stayed; he would now go once more upon the sea and would seek death in the fray, that so he might appease the offended gods.

Full of his resolve, he quickly made preparations to depart, but when he returned to the court to bid farewell to his royal hosts he found that Sigurd Ring was at the point of death. The old warrior bethought him that "a straw death" would not win the favour of Odin, and in the presence of Frithiof and his court he slashed bravely the death runes on his arm and breast. Then clasping Ingeborg with one hand, he raised the other in blessing over Frithiof and his youthful son, and so passed in peace to the halls of the blessed.

"Gods all, I hail ye! Sons of Valhalla! Earth disappears; to the Asa's high feast Gjallar-horn bids me; Blessedness, like a Gold-helmet, circles their up-coming guest!"

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).



Betrothal of Frithiof and Ingeborg

The warriors of the nation now assembled in solemn Thing to choose a successor to the throne. Frithiof had won the people's enthusiastic admiration, and they would fain have elected him king; but he raised Sigurd Ring's little son high on his shield when he heard the shout which acclaimed his name, and presented the boy to the assembly as their future king, publicly swearing to uphold him until he was of age to defend the realm. The lad, weary of his cramped position, boldly sprang to the ground as soon as Frithiof's speech was ended, and alighted upon his feet. This act of agile daring in one so young appealed to the rude Northmen, and a loud shout arose, "We choose thee, shield-borne child!"

"But thron'd king-like, the lad sat proud On shield-floor high; So the eaglet glad, from rock-hung cloud, The Sun will eye!

At length this place his young blood found Too dull to keep; And, with one spring, he gains the ground— A royal leap!"

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

According to some accounts, Frithiof now made war against Ingeborg's brothers, and after conquering them, allowed them to retain their kingdom on condition that they paid 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.

Bishop Tegner's conclusion, however, differs very considerably, and if it appears less true to the rude temper of the rugged days of the sea-rovers, its superior spiritual qualities make it more attractive. According to Tegner's poem, Frithiof was urged by the people of Sigurd Ring to espouse Ingeborg and remain amongst them as guardian of the realm. But he answered that this might not be, since the wrath of Balder still burned against him, and none else could bestow his cherished bride. He told the people that he would fare over the seas and seek forgiveness of the god, and soon after, his farewells were spoken, and once more his vessel was speeding before the wind.

Frithiof's first visit was paid to his father's burial mound, where, plunged in melancholy at the desolation around, he poured out his soul to the outraged god. He reminded him that it was the custom of the Northmen to exact blood-fines for kinsmen slain, and surely the blessed gods would not be less forgiving than the earth-born. Passionately he adjured Balder to show him how he could make reparation for his unpremeditated fault, and suddenly, an answer was vouchsafed, and Frithiof beheld in the clouds a vision of a new temple.

"Then sudden, o'er the western waters pendent, An Image comes, with gold and flames resplendent, O'er Balder's grove it hovers, night's clouds under, Like gold crown resting on a bed of green. At last to a temple settling, firm 'tis grounded— Where Balder stood, another temple's founded."

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

The hero immediately understood that the gods had thus indicated a means of atonement, and he grudged neither wealth nor pains until a glorious temple and grove, which far exceeded the splendour of the old shrine, rose out of the ruins.

"Finish'd great Balder's Temple stood! Round it no palisade of wood Ran now as erst; A railing stronger, fairer than the first, And all of hammer'd iron—each bar Gold-tipp'd and regular— Walls Balder's sacred House. Like some long line Of steel-clad champions, whose bright war-spears shine And golden helms afar—so stood This glitt'ring guard within the holy wood!

"Of granite blocks enormous, join'd with curious care And daring art, the massy pile was built; and there (A giant-work intended To last till time was ended,) It rose like Upsal's temple, where the north Saw Valhall's halls fair imag'd here on earth.

"Proud stood it there on mountain-steep, its lofty brow Reflected calmly on the sea's bright-flowing wave. But round about, some girdle like of beauteous flow'rs, Went Balder's Dale, with all its groves' soft-murmur'd sighs, And all its birds' sweet-twitter'd songs,—the Home of Peace."

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).

Meantime, while the timbers were being hewed, King Helge was absent upon a foray amongst the Finnish mountains. One day it chanced that his band passed by a crag where stood the lonely shrine of some forgotten god, and King Helge scaled the rocky summit with intent to raze the ruined walls. The lock held fast, and, as Helge tugged fiercely at the mouldered gate, suddenly a sculptured image of the deity, rudely summoned from his ancient sleep, started from his niche above.

Heavily he fell upon the head of the intruder, and Helge stretched his length upon the rocky floor, nor stirred again.

When the temple was duly consecrated to Balder's service, Frithiof stood by the altar to await the coming of his expected bride. But Halfdan first crossed the threshold, his faltering gait showing plainly that he feared an unfriendly reception. Seeing this, Frithiof unbuckled his sword and strode frankly to Halfdan with hand outstretched, whereupon the king, blushing deeply, grasped heartily the proffered hand, and from that moment all their differences were forgotten. The next moment Ingeborg approached and the renewed amity of the long-sundered friends was ratified with the hand of the bride, which Halfdan placed in that of his new brother.

"Over the copper threshold Halfdan now, With pallid brow And fearful fitful glance, advanceth slow Tow'rds yonder tow'ring ever-dreaded foe— And, silent, at a distance stands,— Then Frithiof, with quick hands, The corslet-hater, Angurvadel, from his thigh Unbuckleth, and his bright shield's golden round Leaning 'gainst the altar, thus draws nigh;—

While his cow'd enemy He thus accosts, with pleasant dignity.— 'Most noble in this strife will he be found Who first his right hand good Offers in pledge of peaceful brotherhood!'— Then Halfdan, deeply blushing, doffs with haste His iron-gauntlet and,—with hearty grasp embrac'd,— Each long, long, sever'd hand Its friend-foe hails, steadfast as mountain-bases stand!

"And as th' last deep accents Of reconcilement and of blessing sounded; Lo! Ing'borg sudden enters, rich adorn'd With bridal ornaments, and all enrob'd In gorgeous ermine, and by bright-ey'd maidens Slow-follow'd, as on heav'n's broad canopy, Attending star-trains guard the regent-moon!— But the young bride's fair eyes, Those two blue skies, Fill quick with tears, And to her brother's heart she trembling sinketh;— He, with his sister's fears Deep-mov'd, her hand all tenderly in Frithiof's linketh, His burden soft transferring to that hero's breast, Its long-tried faith fit place for Ing'borg's rest."

Tegner, Frithiof Saga (G. Stephens's tr.).



CHAPTER XXVIII: THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS

The Decline of the Gods

One of the distinctive features of Northern mythology is that the people always believed that their gods belonged to a finite race. The AEsir had had a beginning; therefore, it was reasoned, they must have an end; and as they were born from a mixture of the divine and giant elements, being thus imperfect, they bore within them the germ of death, and were, like men, doomed to suffer physical death in order to attain spiritual immortality.

The whole scheme of Northern mythology was therefore a drama, every step leading gradually to the climax or tragic end, when, with true poetic justice, punishment and reward were impartially meted out. In the foregoing chapters, the gradual rise and decline of the gods have been carefully traced. We have recounted how the AEsir tolerated the presence of evil, personated by Loki, in their midst; how they weakly followed his advice, allowed him to involve them in all manner of difficulties from which they could be extricated only at the price of part of their virtue or peace, and finally permitted him to gain such ascendency over them that he did not scruple to rob them of their dearest possession, purity, or innocence, as personified by Balder the good.

Too late the gods realised how evil was this spirit that had found a home among them, and too late they banished Loki to earth, where men, following the gods' example, listened to his teachings, and were corrupted by his sinister influence.

"Brothers slay brothers; Sisters' children Shed each other's blood. Hard is the world; Sensual sin grows huge. There are sword-ages, axe-ages; Shields are cleft in twain; Storm-ages, murder-ages; Till the world falls dead, And men no longer spare Or pity one another."

Norse Mythology (R. B. Anderson).



The Fimbul-winter

Seeing that crime was rampant, and all good banished from the earth, the gods realised that the prophecies uttered of old were about to be fulfilled, and that the shadow of Ragnarok, the twilight or dusk of the gods, was already upon them. Sol and Mani grew pale with affright, and drove their chariots tremblingly along their appointed paths, looking back with fear at the pursuing wolves which would shortly overtake and devour them; and as their smiles disappeared the earth grew sad and cold, and the terrible Fimbul-winter began. Then snow fell from the four points of the compass at once, the biting winds swept down from the north, and all the earth was covered with a thick layer of ice.

"Grim Fimbul raged, and o'er the world Tempestuous winds and snowstorms hurled; The roaring ocean icebergs ground, And flung its frozen foam around, E'en to the top of mountain height; No warming air Nor radiance fair Of gentle Summer's soft'ning light, Tempered this dreadful glacial night."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

This severe winter lasted during three whole seasons without a break, and was followed by three others, equally severe, during which all cheer departed from the earth, and the crimes of men increased with fearful rapidity, whilst, in the general struggle for life, the last feelings of humanity and compassion disappeared.



The Wolves Let Loose

In the dim recesses of the Ironwood the giantess Iarnsaxa or Angur-boda diligently fed the wolves Hati, Skoell, and Managarm, the progeny of Fenris, with the marrow of murderers' and adulterers' bones; and such was the prevalence of these vile crimes, that the well-nigh insatiable monsters were never stinted for food. They daily gained strength to pursue Sol and Mani, and finally overtook and devoured them, deluging the earth with blood from their dripping jaws.

"In the east she was seated, that aged woman, in Jarnrid, And there she nourished the posterity of Fenrir; He will be the most formidable of all, he Who, under the form of a monster, will swallow up the moon."

Voluspa (Pfeiffer's tr.).

At this terrible calamity the whole earth trembled and shook, the stars, affrighted, fell from their places, and Loki, Fenris, and Garm, renewing their efforts, rent their chains asunder and rushed forth to take their revenge. At the same moment the dragon Nidhug gnawed through the root of the ash Yggdrasil, which quivered to its topmost bough; the red cock Fialar, perched above Valhalla, loudly crowed an alarm, which was immediately echoed by Gullin-kambi, the rooster in Midgard, and by Hel's dark-red bird in Nifl-heim.

"The gold-combed cock The gods in Valhal loudly crowed to arms; The blood-red cock as shrilly summons all On earth and down beneath it."

Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson).



Heimdall Gives the Alarm

Heimdall, noting these ominous portents and hearing the cock's shrill cry, immediately put the Giallar-horn to his lips and blew the long-expected blast, which was heard throughout the world. At the first sound of this rally AEsir and Einheriar sprang from their golden couches and sallied bravely out of the great hall, armed for the coming fray, and, mounting their impatient steeds, they galloped over the quivering rainbow bridge to the spacious field of Vigrid, where, as Vafthrudnir had predicted long before, the last battle was to take place.



The Terrors of the Sea

The terrible Midgard snake Ioermungandr had been aroused by the general disturbance, and with immense writhings and commotion, whereby the seas were lashed into huge waves such as had never before disturbed the deeps of ocean, he crawled out upon the land, and hastened to join the dread fray, in which he was to play a prominent part.

"In giant wrath the Serpent tossed In ocean depths, till, free from chain, He rose upon the foaming main; Beneath the lashings of his tail, Seas, mountain high, swelled on the land; Then, darting mad the waves acrost, Pouring forth bloody froth like hail, Spurting with poisoned, venomed breath Foul, deadly mists o'er all the Earth, Thro' thundering surge, he sought the strand."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

One of the great waves, stirred up by Ioermungandr's struggles, set afloat Nagilfar, the fatal ship, which was constructed entirely out of the nails of those dead folks whose relatives had failed, through the ages, in their duty, having neglected to pare the nails of the deceased, ere they were laid to rest. No sooner was this vessel afloat, than Loki boarded it with the fiery host from Muspells-heim, and steered it boldly over the stormy waters to the place of conflict.

This was not the only vessel bound for Vigrid, however, for out of a thick fog bank towards the north came another ship, steered by Hrym, in which were all the frost giants, armed to the teeth and eager for a conflict with the AEsir, whom they had always hated.



The Terrors of the Underworld

At the same time, Hel, the goddess of death, crept through a crevice in the earth out of her underground home, closely followed by the Hel-hound Garm, the malefactors of her cheerless realm, and the dragon Nidhug, which flew over the battlefield bearing corpses upon his wings.

As soon as he landed, Loki welcomed these reinforcements with joy, and placing himself at their head he marched with them to the fight.

Suddenly the skies were rent asunder, and through the fiery breach rode Surtr with his flaming sword, followed by his sons; and as they rode over the bridge Bifroest, with intent to storm Asgard, the glorious arch sank with a crash beneath their horses' tread.

"Down thro' the fields of air, With glittering armour fair, In battle order bright, They sped while seething flame From rapid hoofstrokes came. Leading his gleaming band, rode Surtur, 'Mid the red ranks of raging fire."

Valhalla (J. C. Jones).

The gods knew full well that their end was now near, and that their weakness and lack of foresight placed them under great disadvantages; for Odin had but one eye, Tyr but one hand, and Frey nothing but a stag's horn wherewith to defend himself, instead of his invincible sword. Nevertheless, the AEsir did not show any signs of despair, but, like true battle-gods of the North, they donned their richest attire, and gaily rode to the battlefield, determined to sell their lives as dearly as possible.

While they were mustering their forces, Odin once more rode down to the Urdar fountain, where, under the toppling Yggdrasil, the Norns sat with veiled faces and obstinately silent, their web lying torn at their feet. Once more the father of the gods whispered a mysterious communication to Mimir, after which he remounted Sleipnir and rejoined the waiting host.



The Great Battle

The combatants were now assembled on Vigrid's broad plain. On one side were ranged the stern, calm faces of the AEsir, Vanas, and Einheriar; while on the other were gathered the motley host of Surtr, the grim frost giants, the pale army of Hel, and Loki and his dread followers, Garm, Fenris, and Ioermungandr, the two latter belching forth fire and smoke, and exhaling clouds of noxious, deathly vapours, which filled all heaven and earth with their poisonous breath.

"The years roll on, The generations pass, the ages grow, And bring us nearer to the final day When from the south shall march the fiery band And cross the bridge of heaven, with Lok for guide, And Fenris at his heel with broken chain; While from the east the giant Rymer steers His ship, and the great serpent makes to land; And all are marshall'd in one flaming square Against the Gods, upon the plains of Heaven."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).

All the pent-up antagonism of ages was now let loose in a torrent of hate, each member of the opposing hosts fighting with grim determination, as did our ancestors of old, hand to hand and face to face. With a mighty shock, heard above the roar of battle which filled the universe, Odin and the Fenris wolf came into impetuous contact, while Thor attacked the Midgard snake, and Tyr came to grips with the dog Garm. Frey closed with Surtr, Heimdall with Loki, whom he had defeated once before, and the remainder of the gods and all the Einheriar engaged foes equally worthy of their courage. But, in spite of their daily preparation in the heavenly city, Valhalla's host was doomed to succumb, and Odin was amongst the first of the shining ones to be slain. Not even the high courage and mighty attributes of Allfather could withstand the tide of evil as personified in the Fenris wolf. At each succeeding moment of the struggle its colossal size assumed greater proportions, until finally its wide-open jaws embraced all the space between heaven and earth, and the foul monster rushed furiously upon the father of gods and engulphed him bodily within its horrid maw.

"Fenrir shall with impious tooth Slay the sire of rolling years: Vithar shall avenge his fall, And, struggling with the shaggy wolf, Shall cleave his cold and gory jaws."

Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.).

None of the gods could lend Allfather a helping hand at that critical moment, for it was a time of sore trial to all. Frey put forth heroic efforts, but Surtr's flashing sword now dealt him a death-stroke. In his struggle with the arch-enemy, Loki, Heimdall fared better, but his final conquest was dearly bought, for he, too, fell dead. The struggle between Tyr and Garm had the same tragic end, and Thor, after a most terrible encounter with the Midgard snake, and after slaying him with a stroke from Mioelnir, staggered back nine paces, and was drowned in the flood of venom which poured from the dying monster's jaws.

"Odin's son goes With the monster to fight; Midgard's Veor in his rage Will slay the worm; Nine feet will go Fioergyn's son, Bowed by the serpent Who feared no foe."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).

Vidar now came rushing from a distant part of the plain to avenge the death of his mighty sire, and the doom foretold fell upon Fenris, whose lower jaw now felt the impress of that shoe which had been reserved for this day. At the same moment Vidar seized the monster's upper jaw with his hands, and with one terrible wrench tore him asunder.



The Devouring Fire

The other gods who took part in the fray, and all the Einheriar having now perished, Surtr suddenly flung his fiery brands over heaven, earth, and the nine kingdoms of Hel. The raging flames enveloped the massive stem of the world ash Yggdrasil, and reached the golden palaces of the gods, which were utterly consumed. The vegetation upon earth was likewise destroyed, and the fervent heat made all the waters seethe and boil.

"Fire's breath assails The all-nourishing tree, Towering fire plays Against heaven itself."

Saemund's Edda (Thorpe's tr.).

The great conflagration raged fiercely until everything was consumed, when the earth, blackened and scarred, slowly sank beneath the boiling waves of the sea. Ragnarok had indeed come; the world tragedy was over, the divine actors were slain, and chaos seemed to have resumed its former sway. But as in a play, after the principals are slain and the curtain has fallen, the audience still looks for the favourites to appear and make their bow, so the ancient Northern races fancied that, all evil having perished in Surtr's flames, from the general ruin goodness would rise, to resume its sway over the earth, and that some of the gods would return to dwell in heaven for ever.

"All evil Dies there an endless death, while goodness riseth From that great world-fire, purified at last, To a life far higher, better, nobler than the past.

Viking Tales of the North (R. B. Anderson).



Regeneration

Our ancestors believed fully in regeneration, and held that after a certain space of time the earth, purged by fire and purified by its immersion in the sea, rose again in all its pristine beauty and was illumined by the sun, whose chariot was driven by a daughter of Sol, born before the wolf had devoured her mother. The new orb of day was not imperfect, as the first sun had been, and its rays were no longer so ardent that a shield had to be placed between it and the earth. These more beneficent rays soon caused the earth to renew its green mantle, and to bring forth flowers and fruit in abundance. Two human beings, a woman, Lif, and a man, Lifthrasir, now emerged from the depths of Hodmimir's (Mimir's) forest, whence they had fled for refuge when Surtr set fire to the world. They had sunk into peaceful slumber there, unconscious of the destruction around them, and had remained, nurtured by the morning dew, until it was safe for them to wander out once more, when they took possession of the regenerated earth, which their descendants were to people and over which they were to have full sway.

"We shall see emerge From the bright Ocean at our feet an earth More fresh, more verdant than the last, with fruits Self-springing, and a seed of man preserved, Who then shall live in peace, as then in war."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).



A New Heaven

All the gods who represented the developing forces of Nature were slain on the fatal field of Vigrid, but Vali and Vidar, the types of the imperishable forces of Nature, returned to the field of Ida, where they were met by Modi and Magni, Thor's sons, the personifications of strength and energy, who rescued their father's sacred hammer from the general destruction, and carried it thither with them.

"Vithar's then and Vali's force Heirs the empty realm of gods; Mothi's thew and Magni's might Sways the massy mallet's weight, Won from Thor, when Thor must fall."

Vafthrudni's-mal (W. Taylor's tr.).

Here they were joined by Hoenir, no longer an exile among the Vanas, who, as developing forces, had also vanished for ever; and out of the dark underworld where he had languished so long rose the radiant Balder, together with his brother Hodur, with whom he was reconciled, and with whom he was to live in perfect amity and peace. The past had gone for ever, and the surviving deities could recall it without bitterness. The memory of their former companions was, however, dear to them, and full often did they return to their old haunts to linger over the happy associations. It was thus that walking one day in the long grass on Idavold, they found again the golden disks with which the AEsir had been wont to sport.

"We shall tread once more that well-known plain Of Ida, and among the grass shall find The golden dice with which we play'd of yore; And that will bring to mind the former life And pastime of the Gods, the wise discourse Of Odin, the delights of other days."

Balder Dead (Matthew Arnold).

When the small band of gods turned mournfully towards the place where their lordly dwellings once stood, they became aware, to their joyful surprise, that Gimli, the highest heavenly abode, had not been consumed, for it rose glittering before them, its golden roof outshining the sun. Hastening thither they discovered, to the great increase of their joy, that it had become the place of refuge for all the virtuous.

"In Gimli the lofty There shall the hosts Of the virtuous dwell, And through all ages Taste of deep gladness."

Literature and Romance of Northern Europe (Howitt).



One too Mighty to Name

As the Norsemen who settled in Iceland, and through whom the most complete exposition of the Odinic faith has come down to us in the Eddas and Sagas, were not definitely converted until the eleventh century,—although they had come in contact with Christians during their viking raids nearly six centuries before,—it is very probable that the Northern scalds gleaned some idea of the Christian doctrines, and that this knowledge influenced them to a certain extent, and coloured their descriptions of the end of the world and the regeneration of the earth. It was perhaps this vague knowledge, also, which induced them to add to the Edda a verse, which is generally supposed to have been an interpolation, proclaiming that another God, too mighty to name, would arise to bear rule over Gimli. From his heavenly seat he would judge mankind, and separate the bad from the good. The former would be banished to the horrors of Nastrond, while the good would be transported to the blissful halls of Gimli the fair.

"Then comes another, Yet more mighty. But Him I dare not Venture to name. Few farther may look Than to where Odin To meet the wolf goes."

Literature and Romance of Northern Europe (Howitt).

There were two other heavenly mansions, however, one reserved for the dwarfs and the other for the giants; for as these creatures had no free will, and but blindly executed the decrees of fate, they were not thought to be responsible for any harm done by them, and were therefore held to be undeserving of punishment.

The dwarfs, ruled by Sindri, were said to occupy a hall in the Nida mountains, where they drank the sparkling mead, while the giants took their pleasure in the hall Brimer, situated in the region Okolnur (not cool), for the power of cold was entirely annihilated, and there was no more ice.

Various mythologists have, of course, attempted to explain these myths, and some, as we have already stated, see in the story of Ragnarok the influence of Christian teachings, and esteem it only a barbaric version of the end of the world and the coming judgment day, when a new heaven and earth shall arise, and all the good shall enjoy eternal bliss.



CHAPTER XXIX: GREEK AND NORTHERN MYTHOLOGIES

Comparative Mythology

During the past fifty years learned men of many nations have investigated philology and comparative mythology so thoroughly that they have ascertained beyond the possibility of doubt "that English, together with all the Teutonic dialects of the Continent, belongs to that large family of speech which comprises, besides the Teutonic, Latin, Greek, Slavonic, and Celtic, the Oriental languages of India and Persia." "It has also been proved that the various tribes who started from the central home to discover Europe in the north, and India in the south, carried away with them, not only a common language, but a common faith and a common mythology. These are facts which may be ignored but cannot be disputed, and the two sciences of comparative grammar and comparative mythology, though but of recent origin, rest on a foundation as sound and safe as that of any of the inductive sciences." "For more than a thousand years the Scandinavian inhabitants of Norway have been separated in language from their Teutonic brethren on the Continent, and yet both have not only preserved the same stock of popular stories, but they tell them, in several instances, in almost the same words."

This resemblance, so strong in the early literature of nations inhabiting countries which present much the same physical aspect and have nearly the same climate, is not so marked when we compare the Northern myths with those of the genial South. Still, notwithstanding the contrast between Northern and Southern Europe, where these myths gradually ripened and attained their full growth, there is an analogy between the two mythologies which shows that the seeds from whence both sprang were originally the same.

In the foregoing chapters the Northern system of mythology has been outlined as clearly as possible, and the physical significance of the myths has been explained. Now we shall endeavour to set forth the resemblance of Northern mythology to that of the other Aryan nations, by comparing it with the Greek, which, however, it does not resemble as closely as it does the Oriental.

It is, of course, impossible in a work of this character to do more than mention the main points of resemblance in the stories forming the basis of these religions; but that will be sufficient to demonstrate, even to the most sceptical, that they must have been identical at a period too remote to indicate now with any certainty.



The Beginning of Things

The Northern nations, like the Greeks, imagined that the world rose out of chaos; and while the latter described it as a vapoury, formless mass, the former, influenced by their immediate surroundings, depicted it as a chaos of fire and ice—a combination which is only too comprehensible to any one who has visited Iceland and seen the wild, peculiar contrast between its volcanic soil, spouting geysers, and the great icebergs which hedge it round during the long, dark winter season.

From these opposing elements, fire and ice, were born the first divinities, who, like the first gods of the Greeks, were gigantic in stature and uncouth in appearance. Ymir, the huge ice giant, and his descendants, are comparable to the Titans, who were also elemental forces of Nature, personifications of subterranean fire; and both, having held full sway for a time, were obliged to yield to greater perfection. After a fierce struggle for supremacy, they all found themselves defeated and banished to the respective remote regions of Tartarus and Joetun-heim.

The triad, Odin, Vili, and Ve, of the Northern myth is the exact counterpart of Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto, who, superior to the Titan forces, rule supreme over the world in their turn. In the Greek mythology, the gods, who are also all related to one another, betake themselves to Olympus, where they build golden palaces for their use; and in the Northern mythology the divine conquerors repair to Asgard, and there construct similar dwellings.



Cosmogony

Northern cosmogony was not unlike the Greek, for the people imagined that the earth, Mana-heim, was entirely surrounded by the sea, at the bottom of which lay coiled the huge Midgard snake, biting its own tail; and it was perfectly natural that, viewing the storm-lashed waves which beat against their shores, they should imagine these to be caused by his convulsive writhing. The Greeks, who also fancied the earth was round and compassed by a mighty river called Oceanus, described it as flowing with "a steady, equable current," for they generally gazed out upon calm and sunlit seas. Nifl-heim, the Northern region of perpetual cold and mist, had its exact counterpart in the land north of the Hyperboreans, where feathers (snow) continually hovered in the air, and where Hercules drove the Ceryneian stag into a snowdrift ere he could seize and bind it fast.



The Phenomena of the Sky

Like the Greeks, the Northern races believed that the earth was created first, and that the vaulted heavens were made afterwards to overshadow it entirely. They also imagined that the sun and moon were daily driven across the sky in chariots drawn by fiery steeds. Sol, the sun maiden, therefore corresponded to Helios, Hyperion, Phoebus, or Apollo, while Mani, the Moon (owing to a peculiarity of Northern grammar, which makes the sun feminine and the moon masculine), was the exact counterpart of Phoebe, Diana, or Cynthia.

The Northern scalds, who thought that they descried the prancing forms of white-maned steeds in the flying clouds, and the glitter of spears in the flashing light of the aurora borealis, said that the Valkyrs, or battle maidens, galloped across the sky, while the Greeks saw in the same natural phenomena the white flocks of Apollo guarded by Phaetusa and Lampetia.

As the dew fell from the clouds, the Northern poets declared that it dropped from the manes of the Valkyrs' steeds, while the Greeks, who observed that it generally sparkled longest in the thickets, identified it with Daphne and Procris, whose names are derived from the Sanskrit word which means "to sprinkle," and who are slain by their lovers, Apollo and Cephalus, personifications of the sun.

The earth was considered in the North as well as in the South as a female divinity, the fostering mother of all things; and it was owing to climatic difference only that the mythology of the North, where people were daily obliged to conquer the right to live by a hand-to-hand struggle with Nature, should represent her as hard and frozen like Rinda, while the Greeks embodied her in the genial goddess Ceres. The Greeks believed that the cold winter winds swept down from the North, and the Northern races, in addition, added that they were produced by the winnowing of the wings of the great eagle Hrae-svelgr.

The dwarfs, or dark elves, bred in Ymir's flesh, were like Pluto's servants in that they never left their underground realm, where they, too, sought the precious metals, which they moulded into delicate ornaments such as Vulcan bestowed upon the gods, and into weapons which no one could either dint or mar. As for the light elves, who lived above ground and cared for plants, trees, and streams, they were evidently the Northern equivalents to the nymphs, dryads, oreades, and hamadryads, which peopled the woods, valleys, and fountains of ancient Greece.



Jupiter and Odin

Jupiter, like Odin, was the father of the gods, the god of victory, and a personification of the universe. Hlidskialf, Allfather's lofty throne, was no less exalted than Olympus or Ida, whence the Thunderer could observe all that was taking place; and Odin's invincible spear Gungnir was as terror-inspiring as the thunderbolts brandished by his Greek prototype. The Northern deities feasted continually upon mead and boar's flesh, the drink and meat most suitable to the inhabitants of a Northern climate, while the gods of Olympus preferred the nectar and ambrosia which formed their only sustenance.

Twelve AEsir sat in Odin's council hall to deliberate over the wisest measures for the government of the world and men, and an equal number of gods assembled on the cloudy peak of Mount Olympus for a similar purpose. The Golden Age in Greece was a period of idyllic happiness, amid ever-flowering groves and under balmy skies, while the Northern age of bliss was also a time when peace and innocence flourished on the earth, and when evil was as yet entirely unknown.



The Creation of Man

Using the materials near at hand, the Greeks modelled their first images out of clay; hence they naturally imagined that Prometheus had made man out of that substance when called upon to fashion a creature inferior to the gods only. As the Northern statues were hewn out of wood, the Northern races inferred, as a matter of course, that Odin, Vili, and Ve (who here correspond to Prometheus, Epimetheus, and Minerva, the three Greek creators of man) made the first human couple, Ask and Embla, out of blocks of wood.

The goat Heidrun, which supplied the heavenly mead, is like Amalthea, Jupiter's first nurse, and the busy, tell-tale Ratatosk is equivalent to the snow-white crow in the story of Coronis, which was turned black in punishment for its tattling. Jupiter's eagle has its counterpart in the ravens Hugin and Munin, or in the wolves Geri and Freki, which are ever crouching at Odin's feet.



Norns and Fates

The close resemblance between the Northern Orlog and the Greek Destiny, goddesses whose decrees the gods themselves were obliged to respect, and the equally powerful Norns and Moerae, is too obvious to need pointing out, while the Vanas are counterparts of Neptune and the other ocean divinities. The great quarrel between the Vanas and the AEsir is merely another version of the dispute between Jupiter and Neptune for the supremacy of the world. Just as Jupiter forces his brother to yield to his authority, so the AEsir remain masters of all, but do not refuse to continue to share their power with their conquered foes, who thus become their allies and friends.

Like Jupiter, Odin is always described as majestic and middle-aged, and both gods are regarded as the divine progenitors of royal races, for while the Heraclidae claimed Jupiter as their father, the Inglings, Skioldings, etc., held that Odin was the founder of their families. The most solemn oaths were sworn by Odin's spear as well as by Jupiter's footstool, and both gods rejoice in a multitude of names, all descriptive of the various phases of their nature and worship.

Odin, like Jupiter, frequently visited the earth in disguise, to judge of the hospitable intentions of mankind, as in the story of Geirrod and Agnar, which resembles that of Philemon and Baucis. The aim was to encourage hospitality; therefore, in both stories, those who showed themselves humanely inclined are richly rewarded, and in the Northern myth the lesson is enforced by the punishment inflicted upon Geirrod, as the scalds believed in poetic justice and saw that it was carefully meted out.

The contest of wit between Odin and Vafthrudnir has its parallel in the musical rivalry of Apollo and Marsyas, or in the test of skill between Minerva and Arachne. Odin further resembled Apollo in that he, too, was god of eloquence and poetry, and could win all hearts by means of his divine voice; he was like Mercury in that he taught mortals the use of runes, while the Greek god introduced the alphabet.



Myths of the Seasons

The disappearance of Odin, the sun or summer, and the consequent desolation of Frigga, the earth, is merely a different version of the myths of Proserpine and Adonis. When Proserpine and Adonis have gone, the earth (Ceres or Venus) bitterly mourns their absence, and refuses all consolation. It is only when they return from their exile that she casts off her mourning garments and gloom, and again decks herself in all her jewels. So Frigga and Freya bewail the absence of their husbands Odin and Odur, and remain hard and cold until their return. Odin's wife, Saga, the goddess of history, who lingered by Sokvabek, "the stream of time and events," taking note of all she saw, is like Clio, the muse of history, whom Apollo sought by the inspiring fount of Helicon.