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Our Fathers' Godsaga : Retold for the Young.
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Viking Tales of the North


Fridthjof's Saga


Canto XI

Page 1


Fridthjof at the Court of Angantyr.

I.

Now say we, ocean quitting,
        How Angantyr was then
Within his fir-hall sitting
        At wassail with his men.
Right glad he was, and bended
        His eye blue waves upon,
Where evenings sun descended
        All like a golden swan.


II.

Outside the window chances
        Old Halvar watch to be;
Right earnest were his glances
        The mead, too, guarded he:
One custom missd he never
        To scan the bottom oer,
And then, in silence, ever
        The horn thrust in for more.


III.

Now far i th hall, loud rattling,
        His empty horn he threw,
And cried: Gainst storm-waves battling
        A ship at hand I view;
On board half-dead they tarry,
        Now come they to the land,
And two tall giants carry
        The pale ones to the strand.


IV.

The jarls keen gazings wander
        Where bright waves mirroring flow:
Ellides sail is yonder,
        And Fridthjofs there, I trow;
His gait and brow discover
        Again old Thorsteins son,
Search all the Northland over,
        Yell neer find such a one!


V.

Then berserk Atle springeth,
        Fierce-grinning, from his place
(Bood-staind, his black beard flingeth
        Brute grimness oer his face),
And screams, Ill prove the saying
        That Fridthjof, all his days,
Unnerves the sword from slaying,
        Nor eer for quarter prays.


VI.

And up with him all eager
        His twelve dread champions spring;
Impatient th air they dagger
        And sword and bill-axe swing.
Then coastward stormd they, heated,
        To where the dragon lay,
And Fridthjof, careless seated,
        Full stoutly talkd away.


VII.

Right well I now could kill thee,
        With shouts gan Atle cry;
Thou yet mayst either will thee
        To battle here or fly:
But if for peace thou prayest,
        Though champion hard and bold,
Through me the jarl thou mayest
        In friendly guise behold!

VIII.

Said Fridthjof: With my voyage
        Im spent, tis true, yet may
Our falchions prove our courage
        Ere peace from thee I pray!
Then steel full soon did lighten
        In sun-brown champion hand,
And quick its flame-runes brighten
        On Fridthjofs sharp-tongud brand.



IX.

Fast now are sword-thrusts given,
        And death-blows hail around;
At once fly both shields, riven
        In halves, upon the ground.
Their fights uncensurable,
        They firm their circle tread,
But keen bit Angervail
        And straight broke Atles blade.


X.

My sword, said Fridthjof, never
        Gainst swordless man I wave;
But an thou will, however,
        A diffrent sport well have.
Then storm they, nothing yielded,
        Two autumn billows like!
And oft, with steel round shielded,
        Their jarring breasts fierce strike.



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