University of Virginia Library

THE STORY OF GUNNLAUG THE WORM-TONGUE AND RAVEN THE SKALD

EVEN AS ARI THORGILSON THE LEARNED, THE PRIEST, HATH TOLD IT, WHO WAS THE MAN OF ALL ICELAND MOST LEARNED IN TALES OF THE LAND'S INHABITING & IN LORE OF TIME AGONE

CHAPTER I. OF THORSTEIN EGILSON & HIS KIN.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]

[“Bade I the middling mighty]

[Gunnlaug.]
“Bade I the middling mighty
To have a mark of waves' flame;
Giver of grey seas' glitter,
This gift shalt thou make shift with.
If the elf-sun of the waters
From out of purse thou lettest,
O waster of the worm's bed,
A waits thee sorrow later.”

CHAPTER VII. OF GUNNLAUG IN THE EAST AND THE WEST.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]

[“A courtman there is]

[Gunnlaug.]
“A courtman there is
Full evil I wis,
A bad man and black
Belief let him lack.”

[“As God are all folk fearing]

[Gunnlaug.]
“As God are all folk fearing
The free lord King of England,
Kin of all kings and all folk,
To Ethelred the head bow.”

[“Evil counselled art thou]

[Gunnlaug.]
“Evil counselled art thou,
Gold from us withholding;
The reddener of the edges,
Pricking on with tricking.
Wot ye what? they called me,
Worm-tongue, yet a youngling;
Nor for nought so hight I;
Now is time to show it!”

[“My ways must I be wending]

[Gunnlaug.]
“My ways must I be wending
Three kings' walls to see yet,
And earls twain, as I promised
Erewhile to land-sharers.
Neither will I wend me
Back, the worms'-bed lacking,
By war-lord's son, the wealth-free,
For work done gift well given.”

CHAPTER VIII. OF GUNNLAUG IN IRELAND.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative]

[“Swaru's steed]

[Gunnlaug.]

And this is therein also:

[“Tell ye, staves of spear-din]

[Gunnlaug.]
“Tell ye, staves of spear-din,
How on sleek-side sea-horse
Oft this earl hath proven
Over-toppling billows;
But Eric, victory's ash-tree,
Oft hath seen in east-seas
More of high blue billows
Before the bows a-roaring.”

CHAPTER XI. OF HOW GUNNLAUG MUST NEEDS ABIDE AWAY FROM ICELAND.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]

[“Light the weather wafteth]

[Gunnlaug.]
“Light the weather wafteth;
But if this east wind drifted
Week-long, wild upon us,
Little were I recking;
More this word I mind of
Me with Raven mated,
Than gain for me the gold-foe
Of days to make me grey-haired.”

[“He who brand of battle]

[Gunnlaug.]
“He who brand of battle
Beareth over-wary,
Never love shall let him
Hold the linen-folded;
For we when we were younger
In many a way were playing
On the outward nesses
From golden land outstanding.”

CHAPTER XIII. OF THE WINTER-WEDDING AT SKANEY, AND HOW GUNNLAUG GAVE THE KING'S CLOAK TO HELGA.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]

[Raven.]

“In thine arms, so dreamed I,
Hewn was I, gold island!
Bride, in blood I bled there,
Bed of thine was reddened.
Never more then mightst thou,
Mead-bowls' pourer speedy,
Bind my gashes bloody—
Lind-leek-bough thou lik'st it.”

[Gunnlaug.]

And again he sang:

[“God of wound-flames' glitter]

[Raven.]
“God of wound-flames' glitter,
Glorier of fight-goddess,
Must we fall a-fighting
For fairest kirtle-bearer?
Death-staff, many such-like
Fair as she is are there
In south-lands o'er the sea-floods.
Sooth saith he who knoweth.”

[“The fair-hued golden goddess]

[Gunnlaug.]
“The fair-hued golden goddess
For gold to Raven sold they,
(Raven my match as men say)
While the mighty isle-king,
Ethelred, in England
From eastward way delayed me,
Wherefore to gold-waster
Waneth tongue's speech-hunger.”

CHAPTER XIV. OF THE HOLMGANG AT THE ALTHING.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]

[Gunnlaug.]

“Out to isle of eel-field
Dight am I to hie me:
Give, O God, thy singer
With glaive to end the striving.
Here shall I the head cleave
Of Helga's love's devourer,
At last my bright sword bringeth
Sundering of head and body.”

[“Thou, singer, knowest not surely]

[Raven.]
“Thou, singer, knowest not surely
Which of us twain shall gain it;
With edge for leg-swathe eager,
Here are the wound-scythes bare now.
In whatso-wise we wound us,
The tidings from the Thing here,
And fame of thanes' fair doings,
The fair young maid shall hear it.”

[“Born was she for men's bickering]

[Gunnlaug.]
“Born was she for men's bickering:
Sore bale hath wrought the war-stem,
And I yearned ever madly
To hold that oak-tree golden.
To me then, me destroyer
Of swan-mead's flame, unneedful
This looking on the dark-eyed,
This golden land's beholding.”

[“Moon of linen-lapped one]

[Gunnlaug.]
“Moon of linen-lapped one,
Leek-sea-bearing goddess,
Hawk-keen out of heaven
Shone all bright upon me;
But that eyelid's moonbeam
Of gold-necklaced goddess
Her hath all undoing
Wrought, and me made nought of.”

CHAP. XVI. HOW THE TWO FOES MET AND FOUGHT AT DINGNESS.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]

[“Grim and Olaf, great-hearts]

“Grim and Olaf, great-hearts
In Gondul's din, with thin sword
First did Gunnlaug fell there
Ere at Raven fared he;
Bold, with blood be-drifted
Bane of three the thane was;
War-lord of the wave-horse
Wrought for men folks' slaughter.”

[“O thou sword-storm stirrer]

[Gunnlaug.]
“O thou sword-storm stirrer,
Raven, stem of battle
Famous, fared against me
Fiercely in the spear din.
Many a flight of metal
Was borne on me this morning,
By the spear-walls' builder,
Ring-bearer, on hard Dingness.”

CHAPTER XVII. THE NEWS OF THE FIGHT BROUGHT TO ICELAND.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]

[“Knew I of the hewing]

[Illugi.]
“Knew I of the hewing
Of Raven's hilt-finned steel-fish
Byrny-shearing—sword-edge
Sharp clave leg of Raven.—
Of warm wounds drank the eagle,
When the war-rod slender,
Cleaver of the corpses,
Clave the head of Gunnlaug.”

[“Red is the sword, but I now]

[Raven.]
“Red is the sword, but I now
Am undone by Sword-Odin.
'Gainst shields beyond the sea-flood
The ruin of shields was wielded.
Methinks the blood-fowl blood-stained
In blood o'er men's heads stood there,
The wound-erne yet wound-eager
Trod over wounded bodies.”

CHAPTER XVIII. THE DEATH OF HELGA THE FAIR.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]

[“Dead in mine arms she droopeth]

[Thorkel.]
“Dead in mine arms she droopeth,
My dear one, gold-rings' bearer,
For God hath changed the life-days
Of this Lady of the linen.
Weary pain hath pined her,
But unto me, the seeker
Of hoard of fishes' highway,
Abiding here is wearier.”