J. Tolkien - The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún

in my wide kingdom!

Where I feasted long

are fell serpents.

The proud pillars

are purple-stained

in the builded halls

that Budli reared.’

105

Then Beiti spake there

bale devising,

the king’s counsellor –

he was cunning-hearted:

Beiti

‘Accursed is become

thy carven house!

Better loss of little

than to lose thy all.

106

Fire still may tame

these fell serpents,

thy pillars be the pyre

of these proud robbers!’

For the ruin and wrack

wrath seized Atli;

that shame he shirked not,

shorn of glory.

107

Flame-encircled

fearless Niflungs

in riven harness

redly glinted.

Iron-bolted walls,

ancient timbers,

creaked and smouldered,

cracked and tumbled.

108

There hot and smoking

fell hissing embers,

and plashed and sputtered

in the pools of gore.

Reek was round them,

a rolling smoke;

dank dripped their sweat –

the doors were held.

109

Their shields they raised

over shattered helmets;

they stamped the brands

on streaming floors.

Blacktongued with thirst

blood there drank they;

fell one by one

on the ways to hell.

110

Out burst the brethren

blackhued, grisly,

boars bleeding-tusked

at bay at last.

The Huns grasped them

helmless, shieldless,

bare and bleeding,

with broken swords.

111

As hounds affrighted

Huns were crying;

they were rent and riven

by reeking hands.

Necks were broken

and knees sundered,

ere the Borgund king

was bound and thrown.

112

Last fought Högni

alone hopeless;

his teeth tore them

as they tied him down.

The dust was bitten,

the doom fallen,

the Need of the Niflungs

and their night was come.

113

In dank prison

dark and evil

Högni hurled they;

Huns him guarded.

But Gunnar bound

in Gudrún’s bower

was flung at the feet

of her frenzied lord.

Atli

114

‘Too long have I looked

for this last meeting,

Budlung’s vengeance

on Borgund lord.

Here lies at last

in lowly dust

lordly Gunnar!

Gudrún behold!

115

Sigurd remember,

and say me now,

is it sweet to see him

so sore avenged?

In my serpent-pit

snakes are waiting –

they bite more bitter

than blades of steel!’

116

Gunnar he trampled,

Gudrún saw him:

Gudrún

‘Evil art thou, Atli.

May thy end be shame!

By Erp and Eitill

our own children

(sons of the sister

of these sad captives),

from the dust lift them!

Their death forego!’

Atli

117

‘Let them give me the gold,

the gleaming hoard,

the serpent’s treasure

that Sigurd conquered!

The gold, the gold

that grieves my dreams –

if Gunnar will grant it,

I will grant him thee!’

Gunnar

118

‘I will give thee the gold,

goodly portion,

the half yielding

which I hold my own.

Half hath Högni,

my haughty brother;

to his latest breath

he will loose it not.

119

Let heart of Högni

at my hand be laid

from breast bleeding

with blades severed;

then gold will I give,

gold of serpents –

all shall Atli

eager take it!’

Gudrún

120

‘Yet Högni no less,

mine hapless brother,

I did beg from thee

by those born of us!’

Atli

‘Of his troll’s temper

yet true were the words!

The gold will I gain,

though Gudrún weep!’

121

Out went Atli,

evil he purposed;

but wisemen bade him

wary counsel.

The queen fearing

of cunning thought they;

a thrall they seized

and thrust in prison.

*

Hjalli the thrall

122

‘Woe worth the wiles

and wars of kings,

if my life I must lose

in their luckless feud!

The light of morning,

labour daylong,

fire at evening,

too few my days!’

Huns

123

‘Hjalli, swineherd,

thy heart give us!’

Shrilly shrieked he

at the shining knife.

They bared his breast,

and bitter wailed he;

ere the point pricked him

he piercing cried.

124

Högni heard him,

to the Huns spake he:

Högni

‘Noisome the shrieking!

Knives were liever.

If hearts ye wish

here lies a better.

It trembles not. Take it!

Your toil were less.’

125

The heart then cut they

from Hjalli’s bosom;

to Gunnar bore it

on golden dish:

Huns

‘Here lies his heart!

Högni is ended.’

Loudly laughed he,

lord of Niflungs.

Gunnar

126

‘I hapless see here

heart of craven.

Högni hath not

heart that trembles.

Quivering lies it;

quaked it swifter

beating in baseborn

breast ignoble.’

127

Loudly laughed he

at life’s ending,

when knife was come

to Niflung lord.

The heart they cut

from Högni’s bosom;

to Gunnar bore it

on golden dish.

Gunnar

128

‘I haughty see here

heart undaunted.

Högni held it,

heart untrembling.

Unshaken lies it,

so shook it seldom

beating in boldest

breast of princes.

129

Alone now living,

Lord of Niflungs,

the gold I hold

and guard for ever!

In hall nor heath

nor hidden dungeon

shall friend or foeman

find it gleaming.

130

Rhine shall rule it,

rings and goblets,

in weltering water

wanly shining.

In the deeps we cast it;

dark it rolleth,

as useless to man

as of yore it proved!

131

Cursed be Atli,

king of evil,

of glory naked,

gold-bereavéd;

gold-bereavéd,

gold-tormented,

murder-tainted,

murder-haunted!’

132

Fires of madness

flamed and started

from eyes of Atli;

anguish gnawed him:

Atli

‘Serpents seize him!

snakes shall sting him.

In the noisome pit

naked cast him!’

*

133

There gleaming-eyed

Gudrún waited;

the heart within her

hardened darkly.

Grim mood took her,

Grímhild’s daughter,

ruthless hatred,

wrath consuming.

134

There grimly waited

Gunnar naked;

snakes were creeping

silent round him.

Teeth were poisoned,

tongues were darting;

in lidless eyes

light was shining.

135

A harp she sent him;

his hands seized it,

strong he smote it;

strings were ringing.

Wondering heard men

words of triumph,

song up-soaring

from the serpents’ pit.

136

There coldly creeping

coiling serpents

as stones were staring

stilled, enchanted.

There slowly swayed they,

slumber whelmed them,

as Gunnar sang

of Gunnar’s pride.

137

As voice in Valhöll

valiant ringing

the golden Gods

he glorious named;

of Ódin sang he,

Ódin’s chosen,

of Earth’s most mighty,

of ancient kings.

138

A huge adder

hideous gleaming

from stony hiding

was stealing slow.

Huns still heard him

his harp thrilling,

and doom of Hunland

dreadly chanting.

Читать дальше