Part 34 (1/2)

So spake the guileful Knefrud mid the silence of the wise, Nor once his cold voice faltered, nor once he sank his eyes: Then spake the glorious Gunnar: ”We hear King Atli's voice.

And the heart is glad within us that he biddeth us rejoice: Yet the thing shall be seen but seldom that a Niblung fares from his land With eyes by the gold-l.u.s.t blinded, with the greedy griping hand.

When thou farest aback unto Atli, thou shalt tell him how thou hast been In the house of the Westland Gunnar, and what things thine eyes have seen: Thou shalt tell of the seven store-houses with swords filled through and through, Gold-hilted, deftly smithied, in the Southland wave made blue: Thou shalt tell of the house of the treasures and the Gold that lay erewhile On the Glittering Heath of murder 'neath the heart of the Serpent's guile: Thou shalt note our glittering hauberk, thou shalt strive to bend our bow, Thou shalt look on the s.h.i.+eld of Gunnar that its white face thou mayst know: Thou shalt back the Niblung war-steed when the west wind blows its most, And see if it over-run thee; thou shalt gaze on the Niblung host And be glad of the friends of Atli; thou shalt fare through stable and stall, And tell over the tale of the beast-kind, if the night forbear to fall; Through the horse-mead shalt thou wander, through the meadows of the sheep, But forbear to count their thousands lest thou weary for thy sleep; Thou shalt look if the barns be empty, though the wheat-field whiteneth now, In the midmost of the summer in the fields men cared to plough; Thou shalt dwell with men that lack not, and the tillers fair and fain; Thou shalt see, and long, and wonder, and tell thy King of his gain; For in all that here thou beholdest hath he portion even as we; Sweet bloometh his love in our midmost, and the fair time yet may be, When we twain shall meet and be merry; and sure when our lives are done No more shall men sunder our glory than the G.o.ds have rent the sun.

Sit, mighty man, and be joyous: and then shalt thou cast us a word And say how fareth our sister mid the glory of her lord.”

Then Knefrud looked upon Gunnar, and spake, nor sank his eyes: ”Each morn at the day's beginning when the sun hath hope to arise She looketh from Atli's tower toward the west part and the grey, To see the Niblung spear-heads gleam down the lonely way: Each eve at the day's departing on the topmost tower she stands, And looketh toward the mirk-wood and the sea of the western lands: There long in the wind she standeth, and the even grown acold, To see the Niblung war-s.h.i.+elds come forth from out the wold.”

Then Gunnar turneth to Hogni, and he saith: ”O glorious lord, What saith thine heart to the bidding, and Atli's loving word?”

”I have done many deeds,” said Hogni, ”I have worn the smooth and the rough, While the G.o.ds looked on from heaven, and belike I have done enough, And no deed for me abideth, but rather the sleep and the rest But thou, O Son of King Giuki, art our eldest and our best, And fair lie the fields before thee wherein thine hand shall work: By the wayside of the greedy doth many a peril lurk; Full wise is the great one meseemeth who bideth his ending at home When the winds and the waves may be dealing with hate that hath far to come.”

”I hearken thy word,” said Gunnar, ”and I know in very deed That long-lived and happy are most men that hearken Hogni's rede.

Hear thou, O Eastland War-G.o.d, and bear this answer aback, That nought may the earth of my people King Giuki's children lack, And that here in the land am I biding till the Norns my life shall change; Howbeit, if here were Atli, his face were scarce more strange Than that daughter of my father whom sore I long to see: Let him come, and sit with the Niblungs, and be called their king with me.”

Then spake the guileful Knefrud, and his word was exceeding proud: ”It is little the wont of Atli to sit at meat with a crowd; Yet know, O Westland Warrior, that thy message shall be done.

Since the Cloudy Folk make ready new lodging for the sun.”

He laughed, and the wise kept silence, and Gunnar heeded him nought: On the daughter of his people was set the Niblung's thought, So sore he longed to behold her; for his life seemed wearing away, And the wealth and the fame he had gathered seemed nought by the earlier day, The day of love departed, and of hope forgotten long.

But Hogni laughs with the stranger, and cries out for harp and song, And the glee rises up as a river when the mountain-tops grow clear, When seaward drift the rain-clouds, and the end of day is near; As of birds in the green groves singing is the Niblung manhood's voice, And the Earls without foreboding in their mighty life rejoice.

Glad then grows the King of the people, and the sweetness filleth his heart, And he turneth about a little, and speaketh to Knefrud apart: ”What sayest thou, lord of the Eastland, how with Gudrun's heart it fares?

Is she sunk in the day of dominion and the burden that it bears, Or remembereth she her brethren and her father and her folk?”

Then Knefrud looked upon Gunnar, and forth from the teeth he spoke: ”It is e'en as I said, King Gunnar: all eves she stands by the gate The coming of her kindred through the dusky tide to wait: Each day in the dawn she ariseth, and saith the time is at hand When the feet of the Niblung War-Kings shall tread King Atli's land: Then she praiseth the wings of the dove, and the wings of the wayfaring crane 'Gainst whom the wind prevails not, and the tempest driveth in vain; And she praiseth the waves of the ocean, how they toil and toil and blend, Till they break on the strand beloved, and the Niblung earth in the end.”

He spake, and the song rose upward and the wine of Kings was poured, And Gunnar heard in the wall-nook how the wind went forth abroad, And he dreamed, and beheld the ocean, and all kingdoms of the earth, And the world lay fair before him and his wors.h.i.+p and his worth.

Then again spake the Eastland liar: ”O King, I may not hide That great things in the land of Atli thy mighty soul abide; For the King is spent and war-weak, nor rejoiceth more in strife; And his sons, the children of Gudrun, now look their first on life: For this end meseems is his bidding, that no worser men than ye May sit in the throne of Atli and the place where he wont to be.”

In the tuneful hall of the Niblungs that Eastland liar spake, And he heard the song of the mighty o'er Gunnar's musing break, And his cold heart gladdened within him as man cried out to man, And fair 'twixt horn and beaker the red wine bubbled and ran.

At last spake Gunnar the Niblung as his hand on the cup he laid: ”A great king craveth our coming, and no more shall he be gainsayed: We will go to look on Atli, though the G.o.ds and the Goths forbid; Nought worse than death meseemeth on the Niblungs' path is hid, And this shall the high G.o.ds see to, but I to the Niblung name, And the day of deeds to accomplish, and the gathering-in of fame.”

Up he stood with the bowl in his right-hand, and mighty and great he was, And he cried: ”Now let the beakers adown the benches pa.s.s; Let us drink dear draughts and glorious, though the last farewell it be, And this draught that I drink have sundered my father's house and me.”

He drank, and all men drank with him, and the hearts of the Earls arose, As of them that s.n.a.t.c.h forth glory from the deadly wall of foes: With the joy of life were they drunken and no man knew for why, And the voice of their exultation rose up in an awful cry; --It is joy in the mouths that utter, it is hope in the hearts that crave, And think of no gainsaying, and remember nought to save; But without the women hearken, and the hearts within them sink; And they say: What then betideth that our lords forbear to drink, And wail and weep in the night-tide and cry the G.o.ds to aid?

Why then are the Kings tormented, and the warriors' hearts afraid?

Then the deadened sound sweeps landward, and the hearts of the field-folk fail, And they say: Is there death in the Burg, that thence goeth the cry and the wail?

Lo, lo, the feast-hall's windows! blood-red through the dark they s.h.i.+ne: Why is weeping the song of the Niblungs, and blood the warrior's wine?

But therein are the torches tossing, and the s.h.i.+elds of men upborne, And the death-blades yet unbloodied cast up 'twixt bowl and horn, And all rest of heart is departed as men speak of the mirk-wood's ways, And the fame of outland countries, and the green sea's troublous days.

But Gunnar arose o'er the people, as a mighty King he spake: ”O ye of the house of Giuki that are joyous for my sake, What then shall be left to the Niblungs if we return no more?

Then let the wolves be warders of the Niblungs' gathered store!

On the hearth let the worm creep over where the fire now flares aloft!

And the adder coil in the chambers where the Niblung wives sleep soft!

Let the master of the pine-wood roll huge in the Niblung porch, And the moon through the broken rafters be the Niblungs' feastful torch!”