The Wayland-Dietrich Saga
Wayland in Wolfsdale........How he met his Brothers, and how they found, caught, and tamed the three Swan-Maidens.
And crossed the mountains, then o'er barren lands,
Past never-ending lakes and swampy fens,
He came at last to where the land sloped down
From a great range of hills unto the sea.
Clothed were the mountain-flanks with a black fringe
Of dense-grown fir-trees that stretched on for miles,
And on their summits still lay winter snow.
Here in a rock-strewn valley's depths there flowed
A shining river with fine fish well-stocked,
And fertile were the meadows wide and green
That lay on either bank. The swift broad stream
Widened into a loch that at one end
Opened into a fjord of the sea,
Long, deep and narrow, bordered by great cliffs
That towered above the entrance, masking it.
The deep ravines of the hills' upper heights
Were filled with snow that summer ne'er could melt.
A waterfall leapt down from the black cliff
That overhung the fjord, bounding on
From terrace unto terrace till it plunged
In masses of white foam into the loch,
In many a cleft grew the slim rowan-trees,
From the steep ledges graceful birch-trees sprang,
Their feathery light green foliage shewing clear
Against the darker firs and sombre pines.
Towards the north a labyrinth of hills
Reared snow-capped peaks, westwards the land-locked sea,
With hundred islets dotted, framed the scene.
O'er all a death-like silence brooded still,
Not e'en a breeze broke the calm solitude,
Till Schemming's hooves sharp clattered. Wayland rode
Adown the mountain path until he came
Into the grassy glen that fringed the stream
On the left bank thereof; and there he saw
Not far, where lay within a sheltered dell
A little farmstead, that a saeter seemed;
A hut where dwell the cowherds when they tend
The kine in summer pastures, and here grazed
Some mountain cattle, a few heads, no more.
As he rode down, the silence suddenly
Was broken by a harsh and startling cry,
The scream of a great eagle, which flew high,
Circling above the valley restlessly.
E'en as Smith Wayland watched the splendid bird,
The golden eagle, plunging, fluttered down,
A mass of scattering plumes; then falling, dropt,
As does a stone hurled from a lofty cliff,
Into the valley at a young man's feet,
Who stooping, picked it up. He laughingly
Waved to another youth within the hut,
"I shot it, Finn," quoth he, "and see, it fell
E'en as they say fell Thjassi the Sire
Of Viking, our famed ancestor........Look ye,
It is a glorious bird........I half regret
That I have slain it, but I want its plumes........
But who comes riding down the glen this way......
A stranger? Shall I shoot?" He raised his bow
And notched an arrow, drawing taut the string.......
Cried Wayland from afar, "Shoot not! Stay thou
Thy hand from spilling brother's blood, for sure
Thou art my brother Egil, and this Finn.......
Say, Slagfeder, how goes it with ye twain?
How came ye here, why left ye Seeland's shores?"
Said Finn, "Tis Wayland surely........Welcome thou
And come within, e'en now the sun sinks low........
Shalt sup with us and tell us all thy news."
He looked towards the west, which was aglow
With wondrous tints of purple, red, and gold.
Northwards the sharp-cut outlines of the hills
Stood clear against the jade green of the sky,
That deepened into blue as night drew near.
North-east a misty violet haze hung low
Over the hill-tops. In the depths below
The valleys lying in the shade appeared
A cold grey blue, and gloomy bleak and drear
Frowned the dark firwoods, but towards the south,
Where a black mount rose sheer from out the loch.....
A basalt bastion reared against the sea.......
The golden rays of the fast-setting sun
Encircled the cliff's head, e'en as a crown
Decks a proud monarch's brows........So fell the night,
And faded soon the glamour from the sky,
The splendour from the water.......Save a gleam
Of copper in the west, and a faint glow
Upon the highest peaks, that rosy shone
Long after the sun's flaring light had gone.
Then all that coast was wrapt in twilight dim
And sombre shadows till the brief night past.....
The wind arose, and blew a little chill
From off the sea, so came the three within,
And Wayland told his brethren all his tale.
Then they in their turn told him of their fate.......
How Nordian had driven them from home,
And they fled north to 'scape death from his hands;
They two, though lads, sailing their boat alone,
For all their folk were killed or driven thence,
And they thought Wade dead, and Wayland too.
So came they to this fjord and there stayed
In the green valley. Finding there no foes,
They dwelt in peace and hunted as they would;
Some cattle bought they from a far-off farm,
Giving the owner skins of wolves and bears
In payment for the beasts.......So dwelt they here,
And like their father Wade had no wish
To mingle with the world, but lived obscure,
Happy in their seclusion. Wayland smiled,
Not to his restless mind appealed such life.
Yet for the moment he seemed satisfied
To share his brothers' house and take his ease
From toiling at the forge........So he stayed there
And hunted with the others, free from care
In this lone valley, that was Wolfsdale called.
Yet at his leisure he built him a forge,
And worked therein as he had mind thereto.
One summer's morn went the three brothers down, (1)
As they were used, unto the water's edge,
And taking boat they rowed towards the sea
Along the narrow rock-girt winding fjord
Till they came to the strand, and then each man,
Wishful to cool him, in the sea quick sprang,
As one does in the summer heat, and swam
Disporting in the water here and there,
Diving and chasing in their merry mood
As if they were three boys again at play.......
And as they swam far out they heard a sound,
A rushing through the sky as of great wings
That heavy beat the air with pinions broad......
And lo! Above them flew three snow-white forms
Like to fair swans that flutt'ring glided down
Near a green islet into the calm sea.
Next moment they seemed floating peacefully,
As t'wards the strand they slowly made their way
Not far from the three brothers. Like fine snow,
But lighter, whiter yet, gleamed their great wings
And wondrous-shapen bodies.......No birds they,
But Swan-maidens who looked like Valkyries.
Egil first saw them, Wayland next, who signed
To warn his eager brother to keep still........
Fain would he chase them........ "Swim we to yon isle,
Whence we swam out a little while ago,
For see, they land there. Quick lads! After them,"
He whispered softly. As he spake the maids
Had landed on the beach and passed from sight,
Leaving behind upon the golden sands
Their swan-dresses, for they thought none was nigh.
Then swam the daring three towards the isle,
Nor spake amongst themselves for fear the sound
Should travel far o'er the light rippling waves.
So came the three together to the cave
Where they had left their garments. Swiftly they
Flung on their clothes, and crept full cautiously
Along the shore 'neath shelter of the cliff,
Till to an inlet of the sea they came,
A tiny bay edged by the golden sands,
And there, part hidden in a cleft, they saw
Three swan-dresses not far from the cliff's foot,
But of the wearers not a trace or sign........
"Valkyries are they, surely," Wayland said,
"Who fight 'neath shields, so Shield-maidens are called."
Quoth Egil, "Aye, lads, and 'tis such as they
Who wear the swans' wings, so I have been told.
They think of naught but fighting, they scorn love,
And are wild creatures vowed to hate all men."
Quoth Wayland grimly, "Were they twice as wild
As that young falcon that I schooled last week,
We'll make them, so I hope, right quickly tame......
See one here who seems wounded; ruddy streaks
I not in this pool's surface.......O'er the sand
Look where there stretches a long trail of blood."
Cried Slagfeder, the youngest of the three,
As he knelt down and touched the feather-gear,
"And look, one swan's dress plainly shews a stain
Of still wet crimson underneath the wing........
Would I might find the maid to heal her wound"........
Said Egil laughing, "Hear our skilful Leech,
Who thinks naught but healing......'Tis his trade.......
See that thou practise not to thine own hurt,
Nor pierce a heart in curing broken limbs.......
So fair a Leech should please a lassie's eye,
Be she ten times a Swan-maiden.......But see,
These Valkyries cannot fly hence while we
Hold here their swan-feathers as a sure pledge."
Quoth Finn, still kneeling, "Ah, poor luckless one!
Surely her arm is broken; would that I
Might find the owner of this dress and bind
Her irksome wound, and save her from ill death."
He leapt up, ran towards the sea and cried,
"These garments guard ye brothers, while I seek
The poor hurt maiden." As he spake he sped
Round a great boulder and passed from their sight.
They sat down on the sand with folded arms,
And laughing, stayed the issue of his quest.
Finn came to where he saw, not far from land,
Three maidens floating. In at once he plunged,
And, practised diver as he was, came up
Between two of the maids, then caught the third,
Whose wounded arm hung helpless by her side.
In his strong arms, unheeding shrieks and cries,
He bore her 'spite her struggles to the beach.
There on the sand the gold-haired maiden lay
Helpless and swooning. With quick skilful hands
Slagfeder tended the unconscious maid,
Binding her injured arm with strips of bast
That he kept in his pouch, but first a salve
Laid he thereon of periwinkle leaves......
Then sat there by her side and watched her breathe.
The other maidens dashed towards the shore
Unto the creek where they had left their wings;
But in bewildered hasty flight they turned
When they saw the two hunters guarding them......
Cried Wayland to them, "Why not yield ye then?
Your sister is our hostage. See, with care
My brother gently tends, nor harms the maid,
But softly raises her unconscious head
And holds her in his arms........Be not afraid.
But come to us, fair Swan-maidens, and prove
How we will take your hands and teach you love.......
In honour and firm troth shall ye be ours,
For ye are worthy love of mortal men,
And we are not unfit to be your mates,
Who have the sea-folk's blood within our veins......
Moreover, maids, we have your swan-wings here......
Ye can't escape us........come then to the land."
He spoke unto the wind, for they had gone,
Diving and swimming far and farther yet,
Till scarcely might their golden heads be seen.
"Come on," cried Wayland, "Hunt we Valkyries,
It is a sport for Gods......Finn, bide thou here,
Thy turn it is to watch the Swan-maids' gear".......
So plunged through the white surf with hunting-calls
The brothers twain, nor stayed to bare their limbs,
Though they their deerskin jerkins tossed aside.
With powerful strokes they cleft the dancing waves,
Chasing the Swan-maids; Wayland laughing cried,
"If they give us the slip 'twere aye our shame"........
Pride and desire lent to them strength and mood,
Ashamed were they to be outdone by maids;
As thought their heels were finned (2) they swam apace,
Cleaving the flood as hawks through upper air,
Pouncing, strike at their prey.......Yet all in vain......
The swiftly swimming maids out-distanced them,
Nor might they catch them quickly as they hoped.
But Wade's sons undaunted doubled then
Their mighty efforts and swam boldly on.
Meanwhile sat Slagfeder and gazing watched
The pale face of his captive, till he saw
A faint rose tinge creep into her wan cheeks,
As with a shuddering sigh she moved her limbs;
Two blue eyes opening looked half scared at him
Who held her in his arms....... "Ah! 'tis a man!
A savage hunter of the wilds!" thought she,
And would have 'scaped his touch, but he held fast,
With strong yet gentle arms, her straining form.
"Nay, struggle not so wildly, little one;
Thou dost but hurt thy wounded arm, and see
How well I now have bound it up for thee."
"Help!" cried she, "Help me, Sisters!" But said he,
"Here am I, Helferich, so am I called,
Thought my true name is Finn......I have helped thee.
And often have helped others, hence my name......
Nay, lie thou still nor call thus.....None can hear.....
Nor test my patience too far, pretty one,
Lest I with kisses close thy cherry lips
And pearl-rich mouth.......Come, thou shalt be my bride,
And in my love forget all else beside.......
Be Valkyrie and Swan-maiden no more"........
He bore her to a cave deep in the cliff,
Despite her dismal shrieks, her piteous cries,
Till in his grasp she sank at last o'ercome.
Then as a stream of crystal tears fell down
Her dimpled cheeks she sobbing deep 'gan cry
In her heart's woe and shame, "What have I done,
What have I done, O traitor, unto thee,
That thou shouldst seize an unprotected maid?
Thou shalt regret thy deed that thou hast dared
To capture a King's daughter, worthless one!
May now the wrath of Odin fall on thee,
And Thor who speaks in thunder strike thee dead!"
But he said softly, "Not to Thor stoop I,
Not even Odin's might doth cause me dread,
Freya shall hear the pleadings of my heart,
And Vara who doth list the vows of love.......
I healed thy hurt, but thou hast wounded me
With the sharp arrows of a fierce desire,
Nor will I have another wife save thee........
Thy love alone can quench this burning fire......
I too am come of Kingly stock, and will
Hold thee in honour ever. Come, fair bride,
Take thou this ring in earnest of my troth;
The sapphire in it is not half so blue,
Nor shines so clearly as thine eyes........But look!
Where comes my brother Egil from the waves,
All dripping wet his limbs, and proudly bears
Thy sister in his arms........Now say, my lad,
What hast thou done with Wayland, has he failed
To catch the swiftest of the Valkyries?
'Tis not like Wayland." Quoth young Egil then,
"The last time that I looked could see naught
Save rolling waves and a rough rising sea
As the wind freshened, blowing from the land.....
Wayland had vanished and his Swan-maiden......
So turned I to the shore and brought her home
Whom I had captured; though she struggling came,
She shall be my fair wife ere comes the morn......
Yet truly feel I some uneasiness
Lest Wayland in his rashness come to harm"........
Qoth Finn, "It may go hard with him if Ran,
The wife of Ægir, should get wind of him.......
Shall we not venture forth to give him help?"
Quoth Egil, "An we lose him it were ill,
Come then........Nay, stay.........What see I there far off,
E'en at the farthest border of the beach? He comes.......
Shout! Brother, shout! for Wayland cometh home
Bearing his booty with him." Then with songs,
And merry laughs and shouts, the brethren ran
To gree their brother.......As he nearer came
His voice too was upraised in a wild song.
"O whoso goes cleaving through waves that roll dashing,
His bare limbs upheaving o'er surf round them splashing,
It is he that knoweth the joy of the swimmer,
Nor grows his joy dimmer.........He hears fleet wings whirring,
Swan-maidens are stirring, round him they are whirling.......
I'll chase her and catch her, that flying Swan-maiden,
My strength shall outmatch her.......I go but light laden......
Now flies she apace, lads, now sinks to the water.......
If none yet have taught her, by strong love compelling,
Though she be rebelling, all kindness repelling,
Yet soon will I teach her........... As though the sea rushed I,
I all but could reach her..........She is gone, her wings brushed by
My face as she fled........Yet she shall not evade me........
I have her....... 'Upbraid me not, though I so bold be
Thus firmly to hold thee, why, fair one, dost scold me
Who am thy true lover? Thy wings I am clipping......
No more shalt thou hover, no more, wind outstripping,
Shalt thou cleave through the air..........But stay here forever,
Our joy lessen never........The great waves are crashing,
Against the rocks dashing, white surf round us splashing.......
So land we........Why spurn me? 'Tis home I will take thee......
From fond arms why turn thee? Soon, soon I will make thee
Confess that thou lov'st me, in thy heart shall be ringing
The song that I'm singing......On my breast softly lying,
Cease from vain crying, on me relying, my love not denying.'"
The ringing song of triumph loud he sang,
And the two others in gay chorus joined,
Blending their merry voices.......So came he
And, all unwilling though she was, he bare
In his strong arms, held close against his breast,
The fairest of the Swan-maidens.......Said Finn,
"Now tell us, Wayland, how things went with thee?
We thought that Ran had caught thee in her net
And thou wert lost for ever 'neath the sea."
Said he, "I'm glad to see ye two, I own,
Glad too to see your chase has ended well.
Ye had no heavy task methinks to-day
In your Valkyrie hunting. Not so I,
For on my faith I came in pressing need;
Save for a miracle I had met death,
Aye, and a grim death too........I could not catch
The pretty maiden that had charmed mine eyes,
For like a mermaid she played with the waves,
And fled apace, tossed lightly on by them
As though they were in league with her, while I
Toiled in her wake.......Young Egil here had won
Her sister and had vanished........All alone,
In a wild swirl of waters I swam on..........
My breast was heaving and my head was filled
With a strange singing........Scarce mine eyes could see,
So the salt water stung them with its brine,
Yet I swam on, and thought I neared the maid;
I seemed to see her and mine outstretched hand
Would fain have grasped her, but now was I come
E'en to the Giants' Cliffs, that shore of dread.......
Into the Brandung whirlpool I was sucked,
That gateway to the Underworld, where lurks
The stealthy Ran for victims. In her net,
Despairing, breathless, stunned, was I soon flung,
Whirled round and round till all my senses fled,
Nor knew I more till I waked 'neath the sea.........
I saw the Sea-Queen, the curst cruel hag.........
Crowned with red sea-weed was her tangled hair,
And in her hand she did a trident bear...........
I heard her raucous voice whose strident tones
Ring yet within mine ears. I guessed me lost,
And had no strength left in me; yet undrowned,
Thanks to the sea-folk's blood within my veins,
She brought me to her cave beneath the sea.......
A grotto that doth all of blue appear,
A ghastly blue that is not of this world,
A blue that chills the marrow in one's bones.
Upon a throne of coral red as blood,
That like the flames of Hell did sultry glow,
Ran took her seat, and there on her right hand
Sat Ægir, Lord of Ocean. Grim looked he
And glared right wildly at me, but far worse
Was the fell glance of his most evil wife,
Who now prepared to tear me limb from limb......
And I, who fear not much, was sore adread,
Deeming it shameful end to be devoured,
And help to fill Ran's greedy ravening maw.......
Although she be our Grand-dam, so men say.......
As I stood quaking, there came swimming in
The nine Sea-maidens who the daughters are
Of that grim couple. In their midst they bare
My fugitive the Swan-maid through the sea,
That now had risen and raged furiously........
Amongst these mermaids there was one who saw
Where I stood captive, doomed to a vile death,
And as her glance fell on me she knew well
Of whose kin I was come. With a slight frown,
And half contemptuously, she spake with those
Who were her comrades..... "Sisters, leave this pair......
They are not worth the trouble of their death.......
Great Ran, for once relinquish them to me.......
Ægir, grant thou thy favourite daughter's boon.....
Give me thier lives, then will I thank ye well,
Nor grudge ye aught that ye of me require,
But serve ye as ye will for many a year."
They granted her desire; so we were freed.
She set us in a shining chariot......
Like to a nautilus its pearly sheen,
With coral branches latticed all, and drawn
By plunging dolphins, whose bright gleaming reins
And traces were of emerald sea-weed made;
The harness bucklers were anemones,
Deep red and purple fringed, and in their midst
In lieu of metal tongues were lustrous pearls.....
So Wachild brought us on our homeward way
From Ran's blue grotto sunk deep in the sea.
And as though the green waves we glided on,
In deep melodious voice like a great bell
That from some rock is heard by mariners,
Booming to warn them of the danger nigh,
Said she, "My grandson Wayland, I greet thee;
For thou of all thy kin doth seem to me
To have more of my blood within thy veins
Than of King Viking's........Whatsoe'er thy fate......
And it must needs be dangerous, dark, and strange.....
Thou shalt not die by drowning, be thou sure......
Now for thy sake this maid I've saved for thee......
Take her and keep her if so be thou canst......
Go, greet thy brethren, yet warn them from me
To hope for no more favours. Hardly I
Have found it in my heart to succour thee......
Go then, ere Wachild shall have changed her mind......
I've saved ye, true, but more doth lie behind.
Maybe ere all is done ye'll wish in vain
That ye lay drowned deep down in Ran's domain."
So spake she, and as now the light of Heaven
Shewed clear above us, then the Sea-maiden
From us departed; as a river mist
Dissolves before the sun, so faded she
And vanished quite away.......But we drew nigh
Firm land once more, and o'er the golden beach
Have we come hither...... I must owe her thanks,
This Wachild, Ægir's daughter, that once more
The upper air I breathe and tread the shore.......
But now night falls apace. Home! Viking's kin,
With our fair brides that we today have won."
Notes:
1. Cf. Simrock, Amelungenlied I. (Wieland der Schmied) Abent. 1. [Back]
2. Cf. Simrock Amel. (W. der S.) Ab. 1, p. 9 (verse 25) "Floszen an die
Fersen." [Back]
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