The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs | Page 2

the People's Praise.
Thus was the dwelling of Volsung, the King of the Midworld's Mark,
As a rose in the winter season, a candle in the dark;
And as in all
other matters 'twas all earthly houses' crown, And the least of its
wall-hung shields was a battle-world's renown, So therein withal was a
marvel and a glorious thing to see, For amidst of its midmost hall-floor
sprang up a mighty tree, That reared its blessings roofward, and
wreathed the roof-tree dear With the glory of the summer and the
garland of the year. I know not how they called it ere Volsung changed
his life, But his dawning of fair promise, and his noontide of the strife,
His eve of the battle-reaping and the garnering of his fame, Have bred
us many a story and named us many a name;
And when men tell of
Volsung, they call that war-duke's tree, That crownèd stem, the
Branstock; and so was it told unto me.

So there was the throne of Volsung beneath its blossoming bower. But
high o'er the roof-crest red it rose 'twixt tower and tower, And therein
were the wild hawks dwelling, abiding the dole of their lord;
And
they wailed high over the wine, and laughed to the waking sword.
Still were its boughs but for them, when lo on an even of May Comes a
man from Siggeir the King with a word for his mouth to say: "All hail
to thee King Volsung, from the King of the Goths I come: He hath
heard of thy sword victorious and thine abundant home; He hath heard
of thy sons in the battle, the fillers of Odin's Hall; And a word hath the
west-wind blown him, (full fruitful be its fall!) A word of thy daughter
Signy the crown of womanhood:
Now he deems thy friendship
goodly, and thine help in the battle good, And for these will he give his
friendship and his battle-aid again: But if thou wouldst grant his asking,
and make his heart full fain, Then shalt thou give him a matter, saith he,
without a price, --Signy the fairer than fair, Signy the wiser than wise."
Such words in the hall of the Volsungs spake the Earl of Siggeir the
Goth,
Bearing the gifts and the gold, the ring, and the tokens of troth.
But the King's heart laughed within him and the King's sons deemed it
good;
For they dreamed how they fared with the Goths o'er ocean and
acre and wood,
Till all the north was theirs, and the utmost southern
lands.
But nought said the snow-white Signy as she sat with folded hands And
gazed at the Goth-king's Earl till his heart grew heavy and cold, As one
that half remembers a tale that the elders have told, A story of weird
and of woe: then spake King Volsung and said:
"A great king woos thee, daughter; wilt thou lie in a great king's bed,
And bear earth's kings on thy bosom, that our name may never die?"
A fire lit up her face, and her voice was e'en as a cry: "I will sleep in a
great king's bed, I will bear the lords of the earth,
And the wrack and
the grief of my youth-days shall be held for nothing worth."
Then would he question her kindly, as one who loved her sore, But she

put forth her hand and smiled, and her face was flushed no more
"Would God it might otherwise be! but wert thou to will it not, Yet
should I will it and wed him, and rue my life and my lot."
Lowly and soft she said it; but spake out louder now:
"Be of good
cheer, King Volsung! for such a man art thou, That what thou dost
well-counselled, goodly and fair it is, And what thou dost unwitting,
the Gods have bidden thee this: So work all things together for the
fame of thee and thine. And now meseems at my wedding shall be a
hallowed sign, That shall give thine heart a joyance, whatever shall
follow after." She spake, and the feast sped on, and the speech and the
song and the laughter
Went over the words of boding as the tide of
the norland main Sweeps over the hidden skerry, the home of the
shipman's bane.
So wendeth his way on the morrow that Earl of the Gothland King,
Bearing the gifts and the gold, and King Volsung's tokening, And a
word in his mouth moreover, a word of blessing and hail, And a
bidding to King Siggeir to come ere the June-tide fail And wed him to
white-hand Signy and bear away his bride, While sleepeth the field of
the fishes amidst the summer-tide.
So on Mid-Summer Even ere the undark night began
Siggeir the King
of the Goth-folk went up