The Wayland-Dietrich Saga
The Birth of Sigurd: How his father, King Sigmund,
believed evil of his mother, Queen Hjordis, who was
called Siegelind; and how she was betrayed by the
wicked Counts Artwin and Herman; and how the
babe Sigurd, being lost in the wood, was suckled by
a hind.
His father Sigmund had set on one side
His first Queen Borghild, who soo after died,
For that she poisoned Sinfjotle his son,
The child of Signy......Then did Sigmund come
Unto King Nidung, called Eylimi,
Whose daughter Hjordis was a lovely maid;
Fairest and wisest she of womenkind.........
Some call her Siegelind....This maid was wooed
By Lyngvi, Hunding's son; but she would wed,
By her own choice and with King Nidung's will,
With Sigmund, King of far Jarlungenland......
For Nidung bade his daughter choose her mate.....
"Thou art a wise maid," said he, "thy rede mine."
Said she, and ere she spake she pondered long,
"A hard and troublous thing my choice in truth,
Yet will I hve him who has greatest fame,
That is King Sigmund, though he groweth old."
So gat King Lyngvi thence in angry mood,
But on his way rejoicing Sigmund rode,
And his sweet bride he brought home in fair peace.
Later went Sigmund warring to aid him, (2)
Drasolf by name, who did his sister wed......
Eastwards to Poland rode they with their hosts;
And with King Sigmund went all his chief men,
Save two well-trusted Lords and Counsellors,
To whom he gave the charge of all his realm
And his fair Queen, whose child was not yet born......
In Swabia were they Counts and mighty men,
Proved warriors both, great chiefs and stately Lords,
Artwin and Herman was the younger man......
They rode out with King Sigmund a short way,
And as they went he much admonished them,
Bidding them keep good order, and 'fore all
In everything to act as wished the Queen.
So he fared forth with all his host, but they
Rode back unto the Palace and took charge.
Now when some time had passed and these two Counts
Ruled o'er the land, it chanced that Artwin's eyes
Strayed often where they should not, and he saw
That Sigmund's Queen was more than passing fair.
Then came he to her on a summer's day
To speak in private with her. "Lady mine,
Dost know that all this realm and treasure too,
Aye, and thy safety, Dame, doth rest with me,
Beneath my hand?......Now hearken to my will.....
I have made up my mind that I will do
E'en as I choose, for who will say me nay?
Who knows when comes King Sigmund to his home?
From this campaign maybe he'll never come......
And if he did.....Scant welcome shall he have
If thou, sweet Dame, hast the same thoughts as I.....
I am no worse a knight than Sigmund's self,
Or may be somewhat better......See ye now,
I love thee, Lady.......I have set my mind
On having thee for leman (3) and for wife....
Together, love, we two will rule this realm,
Which lies already in my power".......Then she
With horror cried, "How canst thou speak such words!
Hence from my sight, thou evil, treacherous man!
I wait......Ye Gods! How anxiously I wait.....
For my dear Lord, King Sigmund; and no man
Would I so much as see till he comes home......
And thou, my Lord, art thou not surely shamed
That thou dost speak of this to me, thy Queen?
Yet, Count, for thy good service in the past,
For the great love that my Lord bears for thee,
And that I think thy blood must fevered boil
That thou hast dared to say such things to me;
I will this time o'erlook these foolish words
That thou hast witless spoken, and will keep
Silent anent them.....On condition, Sir,
That never more thou be thus insolent.
But an thou dost transgress again, know thou,
When comes my Lord home I will tell him all
That thou hast said; soon then wilt thou be hanged."
Said he, and in his anger the red crept
O'er his dark face and mantled in his brow,
"Thou wilt not do this, Lady; thou wilt not!
Didst thou not hear that I in mine own land
Am no less mighty than King Sigmund's self?.....
Yet of a truth I do repent my words,
And see mine error......'Twas my love, fair Dame,
Made me speak rashly......Curse her for a fool!"
He muttered to himself, and stood there mute,
'Twixt baffled passion and his anger dumb,
Like some great mastiff that has felt the lash
And crouches cowed, yet stubborn, shewing fangs.
Said she in warning tones, "Count Artwin, hear!
Wert thou so great that thou rul'st the whole world,
Thou art King Sigmund's servant none the less.
I am his wife and I am not for thee,
Nor will I hear from thee another word
On this theme or another. An thou wouldst
Keep safe thy life, withdraw, Sir, instantly!
Go, seek a leech, bid him thy hot blood cool,
Nor come before me till I send for thee."
Then went Count Artwin forth and held his peace,
But as he left her presence ground his teeth,
And swore within his heart a savage oath
That he would have her or she should not live.
He sought his comrade Herman......In his rage
He told him what had passed; for these two men
Were blood-brothers, and Herman aye was swayed
By Artwin's master mind. He loved him well,
But feared him more, for he was weak of mood.
Quoth Artwin gloomily, "Now, Comrade, say,
How shall I bring what I thus want to pass?
She'll surely tell her Lord when he returns,
And I shall hang an I fly not the Court."
Said Herman doubtfully, "Good Comrade mine,
I would an that I could persuade thee now
To leave this thing alone, and of our Queen
To Think no more; but an thou wilt not hear,
Nor wilt be guided, but wilt have thy way,
In this, as in all other things, will I
Give thee such help in counsel or in deed
As lieth in me for our friendship's sake."
Said Artwin, "Herman, I'll not lie to thee....
I bring it all to pass e'en as I will,
Rather I'd lose my life......Or, by the Gods!
She shall lose hers......An she may not be mine,
She shall not lie in Sigmund's arms again."
Count Herman answered still more doubtfully,
Speaking low down with slow reluctant words,
"If thou so eagerly dost seek this thing,
May it fall out e'en as we both do wish,
Yet would I well thou hadst not dreamt of it........
I fear me some great evil will befall".....
Not long hereafter one day Herman chanced
To have some speech with his young Queen, and he
Was well entreated by her, and they spake
Of many things connected with the Court.
Then he, moved by his friendship, did attempt
To plead Count Artwin's cause and win for him
Forgiveness if not favour. But the Queen
Forbade him speak of this, and now was she
Much angered with the pair. "Go!" said she, "Hence!
Thou art impertinent, Count Herman, that
Thou dost presume to mention this to me.....
Would that King Sigmund came".....Then Herman went
And told Count Artwin all the young Queen's words.
Now they saw plainly that she wished them ill.
So the swift hours and days sped by, and still
Artwin oft tried with feigned humility
To move Queen Sieg'lind's pity, if not love;
And Herman urged in various ways his cause;
But she shewed to them both a cold contempt,
Till much they feared the upshot, for they thought
Things would go badly with them in the end.
Now ye must know that Sigmund in the East
With Drasolf, whom his sister wedded, rode,
And they in Poland warred, laid waste the land,
Slew many folk and plundered as they chose,
Doing much injury unto the Poles.
Sometimes they won, sometimes they knew defeat,
But ere they turned t'wards home, of their great host
They left full many dead upon the field;
Yet still in fair good order they rode back;
So to the borders came of Sigmund's realm,
Where Drasolf, parting, fared to his own place.
This heard the untrue Guardians of the land,
Who put their heads together anxiously.
Quoth Artwin, "I expect and greatly fear
When the King comes that saintly wife of his
Will blab out all our doings openly,
E'en to the tune that she has answered us;
Exaggerating, as all women do.......
Now when old Sigmund hears this from her lips
He'll blame us heavily......Our lives will pay....
Then let us not be tardy is my rede
To see how to avoid such evil chance,
With luck we'll win through yet....Now hark thee, friend".....
He whispered his ill plan in Herman's ear,
Who, startled, shrank, yet listened heedfully.
Before they left each other they had laid
A wicked plot how to evade that doom
That they well knew was like to fall on them.
Then went they to the Queen in humble wise
To tell her that King Sigmund drew near home,
And they would go to meet him as was fit.
Now she, poor Dame, thought not this was amiss,
But thinking them repentant, treated them
In kind and courteous fashion, bidding them
Go swiftly on their ways to greet the King
With good words from herself. So went the twain.
When these two met the King, he was much pleased
And greeted them full kindly. But the Counts
With heavy dismal looks asked their good Lord
For private audience. Then, when they were come
Into his inner tent, Count Artwin said,
In a low voice, dull-eyed, with downcast head,
"Ah! good my Lord, ill tidings I've to tell!
And they are true, alas! Yet this I pray,
That thou'lt not hold me guilty of a wish
To wound thy tenderest feelings. O my King!
Hear now what I must say, for I am forced
To tell the truth and may not hold my tongue,
Seeing thou left thine whole realm in my hands.....
And in the hands of my friend Herman here.....
No sooner hadst thou gone beyond recall,
Than thy wife Sieg'lind did an evil thing.....
A desperate trick she played on thee, O King,
For she cast longing eyes on a base knave,
One of thy meinie who was fair of face,
And did betray thine honour.....When we learnt
With horror of this thing we took that knave....
A stranger, Sire, but lately come to Court,
And slew him secretly, with all those maids
Who knew of her foul shame.....The Queen herself
We spake with earnestly; but she, my Liege,
Did threaten us, that when thou camest home
She would accuse us to thee, so that thou
Shouldst kill us, taking her word and not ours.
But we thought right, Lord, that thou shouldst not come
Unwitting of these things unto thy home,
An unsuspecting man.....Yet seized we not
On the Queen's peson, lest a scandal rose."
Quoth then the King, and in deep wrath he spake,
"O of a truth this shall ye two now know,
If ye have lied concerning her to me,
Aye! By one word, then it shall be your death!"
But Herman answered quickly with an oath,
In solemn fashion, kneeling on his knees,
"My Liege, what has been said is but too true".....
And Artwin also swore, and shewed the King
Letters that were in Sieglind's handwriting
That proved her guilt.....Right well King Sigmund knew
The runes that his wife wrote, who was well skilled
In all such arts, and her own seal he knew;
But knew not Artwin stole it.....Then said he,
And his dark eyes were glowing red with rage,
"Alas! Good friends, how can I punish her,
My trusted wife, who has done this foul sin?"
But answered Artwin, "'Tis for thee, O King,
To order what thou wilt, and we'll obey."
Muttered the King, "She doth deserve to burn.....
Or else, as is oft done, that she be sent
Blinded, or with feet lopped, unto her Sire.....
O Gods above! That e'er a woman should
Thus drag mine honoured name down in the mire!"
Said Artwin softly, "Lord, our counsel is
To send this wicked woman in that wood
That is called Swabian-wald......There are few paths....
It is a wilderness where no man goes....
Ten winters well may pass and yet none come
Within the coverts of that haunted wood.....
Let her live there as long as the Gods will.....
And Lord, 'twere just her tongue be cut out first,
That she may suffer who betrayed her Lord,
And yet none know how she has stained thy name."
The King thought the rede good, and grimly he
Nodded assent. Quoth he, "Do ye my will.....
I will not see this evil woman more."
So rode the two Counts home by a short road.
Next day the young Queen stood upon the walls
High on a bastion, and saw horses' dust;
Then soon she saw men riding and she knew,
Marking the riders' blazons, that the Counts
Came home with their array. So when she thought
Them near enough to hear she called to them,
"Grant God that I of Sigmund hear good news!
And what say ye of him, my Lords? Oh, tell
The truth and lie not to your Queen, fair Sirs!"
Said Artwin courteously, "My Lady, know
The King is in good health, and all went well
On his campaign. He rides in triumph home,
And lies now with the host in Swabian-wald,
He sendeth thee this message, noble Dame,
That thou shalt come there to him, and so ride
Back with him here; for he is fain of thee.
He laid command on us to bring thee, Dame,
So we will lead thee to him, with thy leave."
Then said the Queen, all flurried in her joy,
"Naught doth prevent me surely that I go
To meet my Sigmund.....I will call my dames
That they may go with me"......She called....None came....
"My ladies," then cried she, "where are they then?"
Said Herman quickly, "Lady, they are gone
Riding ahead 'neath charge of our own squires,
That they may make all ready in the wood
Where thou shalt meet thy Lord.....Come then, fair Dame."
But the deceiver lied, for well he knew
That Artwin had ta'en measures to prevent
The Queen's attendants coming near their Dame;
For he had told them she would go alone
Under his escort to meet her dear Lord.
Then said the Lady, "I am ready, Sirs;
But I must have my chest, and all those things
I take upon a journey." Artwin said,
"Now God a' mercy, Dame! All is prepared;
See where the sumpter-nag goes heavy laden".....
And Herman said, "Not far the way to go
That thou shalt tread".....Therewith his treacherous hand
He gave to the young Queen, so brought her down,
Her favourite greyhound following at her heels,
And set her on her horse. Then they rode forth,
They three alone and ne'er a knave or squire,
Through the dark forest, till unto a vale
Within its gloomy depths they came at last;
And it was far removed from haunts of men,
Known but to those two Counts, a lonely place,
Fit for some dreadful deed, dark, desolate.
Here they leapt down from saddle. Herman came
And with swift hand lifted the Queen from horse.....
With utmost fear and anger cried she then,
"Where art thou now, King Sigmund?.....Sigmund, come!
Why has thou bidden these men bring me here?
Now know I of a truth I am betrayed.....
And not I only, but thy child shall be
Who has not seen the light, nor ever shall
If I must perish here".......Then wept she sore
And very bitterly....But Artwin sneered,
Though Herman looked ashamed and hung his head.
Then said Count Artwin, "Now, my Lady Queen,
Must we do that we're told.....What the King bids
His faithful servants must not disobey......
He bade that for thine evil treachery,
Who shaming him, took as thy love a groom,
Which we did tell him of, as needs we must".......
Laughing, he mocked at her strained, startled face.....
"Thy tongue shall now be cut from out thy head
And taken as a token to the King;
Thus here shalt thou be quit of life.....And so
Shalt pay, my Lady, that thou didst scorn me,
Who would have raised thee high and loved thee well;
But thou didst threaten me, so must thou die......
No more....Make ready, useless screams and cries.....
Herman, hold thou her arms.....Quick man, she flies!"
For the young Queen had turned to run away......
But spake his comrade Herman, moved to ruth
For the poor Lady, who seemed like to faint,
And trembling fell in his supporting arms,
Clutching his shoulder tightly in her fear;
Yet could not speak, though her sore-frightened eyes
Implored his mercy.....He said hurriedly,
Helping her to a bank where she lay down,
"Guiltless this helpless woman.....By my soul!
We must find some way else to save ourselves......
Not this way, Artwin, an thou art a man
And not some fiend.......Thou shalt not harm her thus.
See now this hound of hers that followed us.....
Cut we its tongue out to shew to the King".....
He would have caught it, but the greyhound fled,
And snarling, did evade him. Artwin said,
"What ails thee for a craven-hearted fool?
She shall now suffer this for that she hath
Turned ever a deaf ear to our appeals,
Scorning my love e'en as she mocked thy rede.....
And we will do, Sir, just what we agreed,
Or I shall hold thee for a man forsworn
And a white-livered cur, no more my friend."
Whereat Count Herman flared up suddenly,
"So help me God, Sir Artwin, thou shalt not
Harm this poor helpless Lady while I live....
I have done wrong to let things go so far,
I do repent me of our wickedness,
And if I can I'll hinder thee from this
For all our sakes"......Out flashed Sir Herman's sword.....
While they thus spake the Queen knew suddenly
Her trouble was upon her, and she crept
Out of their sight behind a hawthorn bush,
Near which flowed babbling a swift running brook,
Where Herman had set down her travelling-mall......
So thus came Sigurd in this weary world,
A fair and sturdy boy......But she, poor Dame,
Weak as she was, contrived to wrap the babe
In a white linen cloth from out of her mall;
And round his tiny neck a golden chain
She hung with shaking fingers, thereunto
Fastening a ring of gold inscribed with runes,
That he some token of his state might bear.
She laid him in a casket that she had
Ta'en from the mall, which was of crystal made;
Then in her weakness she lay swooning there,
While the babe wept for want of mother's care.
Meanwhile the angry men who once were friends
Began to fight.....Sir Artwin with drawn sword
Ran in on Herman, and the hardy twain
Fought a fierce duel very manfully.
Count Herman proved the stronger, and at length
Artwin was forced back, fighting step by step,
Until he missed his footing and went down
Crashing at the Queen's feet, who resting lay;
And as he fell, by malice or mishap,
His right foot struck the casket, where the babe
Cradled lay crying, and it roughly cast
Into the stream, which bore it far away
Ere Herman's hand might reach it; but he smote
In that same moment with two-handed grip
'Gainst Artwin's neck, that his right evil head
Flew from his shoulders, and he perished there,
At her feet whom he slandered wickedly.
But she, poor soul, seeing her babe thus reft,
Too weak to save him, fell in swoon again,
And lay there, senses lost, as pale as death......
In truth quite dead she seemed to Herman's eyes......
He knelt beside her, chafing her cold hands
And sprinkling water o'er her face, but failed
To find a trace of life. Then he in haste
Composed her limbs, and covered o'er her face
As best he could, so hastened from that place
A conscience-stricken and a wretched man;
Leaving Sir Artwin's bleeding body there,
And eke the gory head. Mounting, he rode,
Retracing all the way he late had come,
Until he met King Sigmund riding home,
Who asked, with lowering brow and gloomy mien,
"Where is thy comrade Artwin, Count Herman?"
Quoth Herman, "Lord, the Count and I fell out
Concerning the Queen's punishment, for he
Would make her dumb, so leave her; but Sire, I
Would stay him from this, for in truth I thought
Not fitting that so fair a Lady came
To such a piteous end.....I saw her plight....
I could not find the heart to harm her, Sire......
Therefore concerning this we were at strife,
And came to blows anent it.......Ere the end
I slew Count Artwin, though he was my friend"......
He turned a deathly white and held his peace,
Then muttered in an halting undertone,
"The Queen came in her trouble while we fought,
And bare a boy......The babe was wondrous fair.....
But Artwin brought his short life to an end
Ere he himself was slain"......He told him how,
And dark grew Sigmund's face and black his brow....
"I know not if he meant to kill the babe,
But the next moment I had paid him, Sire."
Quoth Sigmund sternly, "What then of the Queen?
Did she say aught of me, or spake she, Sir,
Of that base knave? Hast thou now told the truth,
Or hast thou lied to me?".......He looked at him
With fierce suspicion and a growing dread......
Count Herman paler grew and swiftly said,
"I have not lied, Sire.....Yet it well may be
A man may do most foolishly and wrong,
Then seeing his great folly may repent
And strive to make amends....So shall he be
For ever after a far braver man
Than if he owned not he had been a fool......
I do regret this matter, on my troth....
Whate'er her faults she was a gentle Dame,
And a poor helpless woman"......Said the King
In a harsh voice and very angrily,
"Go hence, far from my sight! If, as thou sayest,
Thou hast not lied, then hast thou disobeyed.....
Why didst thou not my bidding? Why hast thou
Broken thine oath, Sir? No more will I have
Thy service, Herman; for it seems to me
Thou'rt ready to betray thy Lord, as thou
Didst but now slay thy friend. Begone!
Take thou an hour......No more.....Nor linger here,
Or, on my kingly word I will have thee
Hanged as a traitor high on gallows tree,
And left to feed the crows.....Would that I knew
The truth of this dark matter," muttered he,
As with an angry frown he galloped on,
Leaving Count Herman shaking in his boots,
Yet glad enough to come off with his life
From the King's wrath. Slinking, he rode away
With all his men far from King Sigmund's land,
And crossed the Northern Sea to Britain's Realm;
Here service took with Uther, heir to him,
Aurel Ambrosius hight, a mighty King.....
These two were brothers, sons of Constantine......
Later he served that famous Emperor......
Known to all men as Arthur, Uther's son,
Though of a truth some mystery wrapped his birth......
With him he tarried long and rose in time
To be the Captain of the Outland Guard, (4)
Wedding a daughter of Pendragon's line;
For in those days King Arthur was well fain
Of service and of aid from foreign Knights.
But Sigmund ruled his land, and oft he grieved
When thinking of his Queen, yet still believed
What Artwin told him. So passed some few years.
Now it befell that as the young Queen lay
Prepared as for her burial, there came
A peasant through the wood to gather fuel,
And snare a rabbit for his evening meal;
Against his custom, for the country folk
Not often ventured in the Swabian-wald,
Fearing its haunted glades and gloomy coombes;
But he was spurred by hunger and by need.
Then heard he a dog howl, and came to where,
Hard by the brook, he saw a greyhound crouch
Close to a lady who lay there as dead,
Near to the headless body of a Knight;
Not far three steeds were grazing. He knelt down
And found the lady breathing, life not fled.
He plucked up heart and gently brought the dame,
Laid o'er her horse with care, unto his hut,
Where his wife tended her; but the dead Knight
He stripped of clothes and armour and him laid,
With stammered prayer and many a muttered spell,
In a rough grave he scooped out hastily;
So brought the horses laden with the gear,
And the white greyhound following docilely,
Back to his hovel; doing all with fear
Lest he should be accosted, and accused
Of theft and murder. When the ailing Queen
Came to her senses she her counsel kept,
Nor told the cottagers aught of her woe,
But dwelt with them in humble patient wise;
Grieving right sorely for her bitter loss
Of child and husband and her own dear home;
Yet helping the good housewife in such ways
As she might best contrive. So passed the years.
The crystal casket wherein lay the babe,
Who now slept peacefully in that strange bed,
Was borne by the swift stream towards the sea.....
Not a great distance was it, and it chanced
It was the ebb-tide. Then the casket caught
Upon a jutting rock, and there was stayed
Until the falling tide receded far,
Leaving the sandy beach raised high and dry
Amidst sea-water channels and deep pools,
Black rocks with slippery dripping sea-weed clothed,
And a great stretch of slimy green-brown mud.......
Broken against the rock the casket lay,
And now the child awakened and low wailed
With piteous cry. It was the sunset hour....
The wind had dropped, silent was land and sea,
O'er all that lonely shore lay a great calm,
But broken by the sea birds' mournful cries.....
A bank of greyish purple clouds piled high
On the horizon lowered, parted by
An orange bar, 'neath which with sultry glow
The sun's red bulk still hovered o'er the sea,
A threat'ning crimson.....The wet mud-flats caught
A sanguine gleam from the expiring sun,
As though they were in truth a lake of blood......
Far up aloft the fleecy golden clouds
Floated in clear transparency of blue,
That faded into green towards the sea,
But deepened to dark indigo above
As night drew near. The restless hungry birds
As yet sought not their nests, but darting flew;
Plovers and curlews, and white seagulls dived
To seek their food.....the fishes left in pools....
With plaintive wistful cries they ceaseless called,
Circling and hovering o'er the gleaming mud,
That still shone blood-red 'neath the setting sun.....
The babe wailed louder......Then, from out the wood,
Came down a dun-coloured and dappled hind
To stand and cool itself within the stream,
Which, sniffing round the broken casket, licked
The weeping babe, then took it in its mouth
And brought it to its lair within the wood
In a thick copse where it had two young fawns.
Gently it laid the child down on the turf,
And with its own young suckled the poor babe.
So the young child was nurtured by this hind,
And grew in strength and stature marvellously.
Notes:
1. Völsunga Saga, ch. 11 and 12. [Back]
2. Thidrek's Saga, ed. Bertelsen ch. 264. Raszmann (155). [Back]
3. Leman here keeps its original meaning of sweetheart. [Back]
4. Cf. Thidrek's Saga, Bertelsen, ch. 322. Raszmann (ch. 239). [Back]
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