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Our Fathers' Godsaga : Retold for the Young.

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Viking Tales of the North

Fridthjof's Saga

Canto XVII.

Page 1

Fridthjof Cometh to King Ring.

I.

King Ring, on high-seat resting, at Yule drank mead so bright, —
His queen was sat beside him, all rosy-red and white;
Like spring and autumn seemed they, each other near, to be;
The fresh spring Ing’brog liken’d — the chilly autumn he.

II.

Unknown, an ancient wand’rer now treadeth in the hall,
From head to foot all darkly his thick fur-garments fall;
A staff he feebly holdeth, and bent they see him go, —
That old man yet was taller than all the rest, I trow.

III.

He sat him on the bench there, right down behind the door;
For that the poor man’s station is now, and was before;
The courtiers eye each other, and basely him deride,
And many a finger pointeth to that grim bear’s rough hide.

IV.

Then like two vivid lightnings, the stranger’s eyes fierce flash,
While one hand graspeth quickly a lordling-youth too rash;
Right warily the courtier he twirleth round about.
Then silent grew the others — as we had done no doubt.

V.

“What noise is that down younder? Who breaks our kingly peace?
Come up to me, old fellow! your words to me address!
You name, your will, whence come ye?” thus the angry king demands
Of the aged man, half hidden by the corner where he stands.

VI.

“Right much, O king, thou askest, yet answer’d shalt thou be;
My name I give not, that sure can matter none but me.
In Penitence I’m foster’d, and Want was all I heir’d,
The wolf from came I hither, for last his bed I shar’d.

VII.

“In former days I , joyous, the dragon’s back bestrode;
With wings so strong, he gladly and safe o’er ocean rode:
Now lies he lam’d and frozen, full close along the land,
Myself, too, am grown old and burn salt upon the strand.

VIII.

“I came to see thy wisdom, through all the country known,
And was not made for th’ insults thy people here have shown;
By the breast a fool I lifted, and round about did swing,
Yet stood he up uninjur’d, — forgive me that, O king!”

IX.

“Not ill,” the monarch crieth, “thou joinest words and wit,
And the ag’d one ought to honor; come, at my board here sit.
But your disguise let fall now, and like thyself appear;
Disguis’d thrives gladness never, and I’ll have gladness here!”

X.

From off the guest’s high head then the hairy bear-hide fell,
And, ‘stead of him so ancient, a stripling all see well;
His lofty temples shading, bright ringlets flow’d unbound,
Like some gold wave encircling his full broad shoulders round.

XI.

And proud he stood before them in velvet mantle blue,
With hand-broad silver girdle where beasts green woods range through;
With cunning skill had th’ artist emboss’d them out to-day,
And round the hero’s middle each other hunted they.

XII.

His armlet, red gold trinket, to his arm right spendid clung;
Like standing heav’n-snatch’d lightning, his shining war-sword hung;
His hero-glance slow wander’d all calm o’er guest, and ha’;
He stood there fair as Balder, and tall as Asa-Thor.

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