The Story of Sigurd the Volsung | Page 9

the hired of Odin, his workday will to
speed, And the harvest-tide shall be heavy.--What then, were it come
and past And I laid by the last of the sheaves with my wages earned at
the last?
He lifted his eyes as he thought it, for now was he come to his place,
And there he stood by his father and met Siggeir face to face, And he
saw him blithe and smiling, and heard him how he spake: "O best of
the sons of Volsung, I am merry for thy sake And the glory that thou
hast gained us; but whereas thine hand and heart Are e'en now the lords
of the battle, how lack'st thou for thy part A matter to better the best?
Wilt thou overgild fine gold Or dye the red rose redder? So I prithee let
me hold This sword that comes to thine hand on the day I wed thy kin.
For at home have I a store-house; there is mountain-gold therein The
weight of a war-king's harness; there is silver plenteous store; There is
iron, and huge-wrought amber, that the southern men love sore, When
they sell me the woven wonder, the purple born of the sea; And it
hangeth up in that bower, and all this is a gift for thee: But the sword
that came to my wedding, methinketh it meet and right, That it lie on
my knees in the council and stead me in the fight."
But Sigmund laughed and answered, and he spake a scornful word:
"And if I take twice that treasure, will it buy me Odin's sword, And the
gift that the Gods have given? will it buy me again to stand Betwixt
two mightiest world-kings with a longed-for thing in mine hand That
all their might hath missed of? when the purple-selling men Come
buying thine iron and amber, dost thou sell thine honour then? Do they
wrap it in bast of the linden, or run it in moulds of earth? And shalt
thou account mine honour as a matter of lesser worth? Came the sword
to thy wedding, Goth-king, to thine hand it never came, And thence is
thine envy whetted to deal me this word of shame."
Black then was the heart of Siggeir, but his face grew pale and red, Till
he drew a smile thereover, and spake the word and said: "Nay, pardon
me, Signy's kinsman! when the heart desires o'ermuch It teacheth the
tongue ill speaking, and my word belike was such. But the honour of
thee and thy kindred, I hold it even as mine, And I love you as my

heart-blood, and take ye this for a sign. I bid thee now King Volsung,
and these thy glorious sons, And thine earls and thy dukes of battle and
all thy mighty ones, To come to the house of the Goth-kings as
honoured guests and dear And abide the winter over; that the dusky
days and drear May be glorious with thy presence, that all folk may
praise my life, And the friends that my fame hath gotten; and that this
my new-wed wife Thine eyes may make the merrier till she bear my
eldest born."
Then speedily answered Volsung: "No king of the earth might scorn
Such noble bidding, Siggeir; and surely will I come To look upon thy
glory and the Goths' abundant home. But let two months wear over, for
I have many a thing To shape and shear in the Woodland, as befits a
people's king: And thou meanwhile here abiding of all my goods shalt
be free, And then shall we twain together roof over the glass-green sea
With the sides of our golden dragons; and our war-hosts' blended
shields Shall fright the sea-abiders and the folk of the fishy fields."
Answered the smooth-speeched Siggeir: "I thank thee well for this,
And thy bidding is most kingly; yet take it not amiss That I wend my
ways in the morning; for we Goth-folk know indeed That the sea is a
foe full deadly, and a friend that fails at need."
* * * * *
And for all the words of Volsung e'en so must the matter be, And
Siggeir the Goth and Signy on the morn shall sail the sea.
Then the feast sped on the fairer, far into the night, but amidst the mirth
Sigmund and Signy were sad at heart. And before the sun was risen
next day Signy came to her father in secret and begged him to stay in
his own country rather than trust the guileful heart and murder-loving
hand of Siggeir. But Volsung answered that he must go to be Siggeir's
guest, for he could not break his pledged word through fear of peril. So
on the morrow