The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs | Page 9

abode King Volsung amid the shifting
wrack
In the place where once was the forefront: for he said: "My
feet are old,
And if I wend on further there is nought more to behold
Than this that I see about me."--Whiles drew his foes away And stared
across the corpses that before his sword-edge lay. But nought he
followed after: then needs must they in front Thrust on by the
thickening spear-throng come up to bear the brunt, Till all his limbs
were weary and his body rent and torn: Then he cried: "Lo now,
Allfather, is not the swathe well shorn? Wouldst thou have me toil for
ever, nor win the wages due?"
And mid the hedge of foemen his blunted sword he threw, And, laid
like the oars of a longship the level war-shafts pressed On 'gainst the
unshielded elder, and clashed amidst his breast, And dead he fell, thrust
backward, and rang on the dead men's gear: But still for a certain
season durst no man draw anear. For 'twas e'en as a great God's slaying,
and they feared the wrath of the sky;
And they deemed their hearts
might harden if awhile they should let him lie.
Lo, now as the plotting was long, so short is the tale to tell How a
mighty people's leaders in the field of murder fell. For but feebly
burned the battle when Volsung fell to field, And all who yet were
living were borne down before the shield: So sinketh the din and the
tumult; and the earls of the Goths ring round
That crown of the Kings
of battle laid low upon the ground, Looking up to the noon-tide
heavens from the place where first he stood:
But the songful sing
above him and they tell how his end is as good As the best of the days
of his life-tide; and well as he was loved By his friends ere the time of
his changing, so now are his foemen moved
With a love that may

never be worsened, since all the strife is o'er, And the warders look for
his coming by Odin's open door.
But his sons, the stay of battle, alive with many a wound, Borne down
to the earth by the shield-rush amid the dead lie bound, And belike a
wearier journey must those lords of battle bide Ere once more in the
Hall of Odin they sit by their father's side. Woe's me for the boughs of
the Branstock and the hawks that cried on the fight!
Woe's me for the
tireless hearthstones and the hangings of delight, That the women dare
not look on lest they see them sweat with blood! Woe's me for the
carven pillars where the spears of the Volsungs stood! And who next
shall shake the locks, or the silver door-rings meet? Who shall pace the
floor beloved, worn down by the Volsung feet? Who shall fill the gold
with the wine, or cry for the triumphing? Shall it be kindred or foes, or
thief, or thrall, or king?
_Of the ending of all Volsung's Sons save Sigmund only, and of how
he abideth in the wild wood._
So there the earls of the Goth-folk lay Volsung 'neath the grass On the
last earth he had trodden; but his children bound must pass, When the
host is gathered together, amidst of their array To the high-built
dwelling of Siggeir; for sooth it is to say, That he came not into the
battle, nor faced the Volsung sword.
So now as he sat in his high-seat there came his chiefest lord, And he
said: "I bear thee tidings of the death of the best of the brave,
For thy
foes are slain or bondsmen; and have thou Sigmund's glaive, If a token
thou desirest; and that shall be surely enough. And I do thee to wit,
King Siggeir, that the road was exceeding rough, And that many an earl
there stumbled, who shall evermore lie down. And indeed I deem King
Volsung for all earthly kingship's crown."
Then never a word spake Siggeir, save: "Where be Volsung's sons?"
And he said: "Without are they fettered, those battle-glorious ones: And
methinks 'twere a deed for a king, and a noble deed for thee, To break
their bonds and heal them, and send them back o'er the sea, And abide

their wrath and the bloodfeud for this matter of Volsung's slaying:"
"Witless thou waxest," said Siggeir, "nor heedest the wise man's saying;

'Slay thou the wolf by the house-door, lest he slay thee in the wood.'
Yet since I am the overcomer, and my days henceforth shall be good, I
will quell them with no death-pains; let the young men smite them
down,
But let me not behold them when my heart is angrier grown."
E'en as he uttered the word was